I am an admirer

of people who make things.

They show up on my doorstep in cursive letters

and even knock without notice sometimes.

They put aside routine

to satisfy an urge and

I hear it in eagerness downstairs

drumming as my sweet daughter sleeps beside me somehow.

It is a gift of butterflies

fluttering alive in me,

flying about until I decide to open my middle

and make the art that pulses in me.

This person and her sleeping, it is changing. It is slowly becoming something solid and almost predictable until, it's not and that lasts for weeks and then one night shows up that was like those solid nights of six hour sleep stretches and you realize there is progress in this little one's sleep learning and all the while she is growing immensely and perfectly and growing such big white, beautiful teeth and unfurling even more than she already had.

Bea, you are such a bounty of life. I am in awe at your every single little thing.

Oh the sweet days.

It is magical, this watching a human develop. Bea changes constantly and not just in a slew of pictures that show her crawling and then walking or chubby and then svelte but from morning to bed time. "Did you hear her try and say "cracker" so perfectly? All of a sudden she kind of runs and plays. She plays with toys and uses her imagination! I mean, I see her walking the little fisher price people around the kitchen and her baby, she takes her walking too, to see the puddle rock, to see Anna's forget-me-nots. Oh you are a delight, sweet baby girl.