more than

tonight at bedtime you were tired.  a big day of camp under your belt.  you were sweet talking me with baby talk.  "you more than just my mom.  you more.  you my love."  melt.  hug. 

our brains

dear little bear,

 today you said something like this to me as we were walking into the house after school: "i'm always thinking of a million ways to do things all at once." and I said: "i know what you mean. my brain works that way, too."

 we have signed you up for catholic kindergarten. you seem to want to go there. i have doubts about the wisdom of it, but i like how much it has to offer academically. we shall see. i've been thinking about which school to send you to obsessively for the last nine months, and it's time to roll with our decision now. we can always reconsider in the spring. i love you to the sky and back, and to the sky again and back again, over and over and over forever.

dear one

dear one,

you are five. sleeping in your big bed. you are a yellow belt now. you are starting kindergarten in the fall, and are worried about it.

i stopped writing because i stopped knowing what to say. perhaps i am just tired. i don't know where it came from before, back when i knew how.

your daddy is doing well. i don't know what to say to him anymore either.

i do know what to say to you in real life. i've enjoyed playing with you and reading you harry potter and taking you to the museum and making mystery boxes for you and tiny books and all the other wonderful things.

love is only everything.

xo