Sunday, June 15, 2014


"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, for 2014."

Big: I look at you and have a passing thought on how perfect a mix you are. With your requests to dress in outfits that twirl, and to have your locks slicked back to form a ballerina bun and topped with a bow. There's a stereotypical girly girl in you. And then with your cars and trains and dinosaur obsession, and your need for rough and tumble play. There's a stereotypical boys boy in you. But then I stop and really reflect on all that I see, and all that you are. And you're just a kid. A stereotypical kid living life untainted. A stereotypical kid with a toy car.

Tiny: It's long and it's dewy and the strands get caught between your fingers. You hit it softly, and it bounces back. You try your hand at a little more force, but it flattens, making fistfuls more difficult to grasp. A few pieces break loose, and they make their way to your mouth. Your nose crinkles at the taste, not the smell. You certainly don't look to be enjoying it, but you do it again anyway. And who am I to stop you? Enjoy your world, baby girl. Today and always.


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