Aveline is amazed by the simplest things. I love that. Yesterday she was amazed because I pulled open the blind and let her look out the window. She stood there for the longest time, just taking it all in, softly jabbering away in her tiny (okay, it’s not always tiny) baby voice.
I love her to pieces. I love to scoop her up and kiss her all over her cheeks and forehead until her eyes crinkle shut and she giggles. I love the way her head smells, and the little microscopic curl she gets at the back of her head when she’s sweaty. I love her sticky little hands and her clammy toes.
Yesterday, she stood up all by herself. Josiah and I looked over at her, and there she was, standing up on those fat little legs without holding on to anything. She wasn’t even wobbling, and acted like it was no big deal, like she didn’t even notice. Then she “jumped” up and down in that cute way babies jump — with her knees getting all bendy but her feet staying on the ground — she jumped three or four times before she plopped back down on her soft bum.
My wee girl, standing.
I don’t know where the time has gone.
I do know that her laughter makes the world go round. I know that when she falls asleep in my arms at three in the morning, and I hear her tiny breaths rise and fall in between Josiah’s sleeping breaths, I am so happy my heart could burst. I know that I prayed for her, and I know God answered with a miracle. I know that she is a gift, and I hold her with open hands.
Aveline Alenka, my little babushka baby, I love you more than I can ever tell you.