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Tiny Stranger

She wears purple and ocean colors–my favorites.  She goes on long walks with me and we visit the alpacas at the end of the lane, the coyotes and elk in the field, and the neighborhood horses.  She loves milk and staring at ceiling fans but intensely dislikes being swaddled and chirps like a little bird when she’s first waking up.  Beyond these things . . . well, I know very little.

She is our tiny stranger–depending upon us for her every need while at the same time confidently demanding food, snuggles, and entertainment.  I soak in her baby smiles and sleepy chirps knowing she will continue to change at a pace I’d heard about, but only came to understand in the two months, four pounds, and four inches since her sunny, Sunday arrival in July.

It is strange to think that I’ve been with her every moment of her existence yet hardly know her at all, and it is both lovely and bizarre to realize I won’t for years to come.
tiny-stranger

 

 

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