Monday, May 20, 2013

swim

Little lady, you're getting out and about. First, a music festival. Now you're in the pool.




Also you're talking. It's gibberish, of course, to everyone but your Mom.
You two have conversations. Some kind of dialogue within which I understand what she is saying. She is speaking English.









But you. You are speaking babymama fluently and it is a lovely language of pitch and tone and confidence.










You say less to your Dad. 
With him you have this silent adoration where you seem to study his features.



And you smile.



And it is brilliant, this smile. It is pleased and trusting and it looks as if you do love the water.







The only part you don't seem to love about your first swim is that it had to end.


The getting out part is the worst.




Otherwise, everything seems hunky dory with you, chic.





Today I am grateful to be part of something bigger than self.


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