I can’t tell you how many times I’ve started and stopped writing this post.
On this attempt, Lilly sits on the couch watching a movie (she’s feeling a little under the weather) and I start jotting down my thoughts laying on the floor next to her. She looks so perfect in that moment, that I kiss her little foot—which has lost all of the extra delicious baby chunk it once contained. It’s long, skinny, and it has Barbie pink toenails. It’s not the foot of a baby; it’s the foot of a little girl.