I am SO damn lucky.

This is all can can think some days, when I've gone beyond the feelings of depression, of repression, of frustration and impatience. I have to remember. Her Bad Mother helped me remember this time.

I'm with the Impling 24/7. There are no breaks, no babysitters, no parents to come and say: "you look so tired, sweetie, why don't you take a day for yourself while we watch the little one?"

So I cook, I feed, I clean, I bathe, I cuddle and kiss and snuggle and read and sing and play and comfort.
I watch her grow. And it is miraculous.

She is so brave in the world. Gazing at everything with that quiet sweet serious curiousity before letting out a little shriek of joy and spinning around till she falls over. I want to tell everyone how incredible she is, how sure on her feet, how she climbs, how she runs, and tries to jump but doesn't quite make it yet, how she says "shadow" and "potato" and "yo ho ho" just because they are fun to say. How she laughs.

I am trying to write of my love for this small little girl, for MY DAUGHTER, and my brain is filled with the image of her face as it looks up at me while she clutches at my legs. The look in her face is the look that says "pick me up, I want to be close to you".

So I do, and we are. Her little arms curl around my neck and I feel her little fingers stroke my shoulder. Her cheek is cool and soft against my own, and her hair smells of baby shampoo, or her sweat, or the ham we had for lunch that was transformed into a hat. She is so much bigger now, and her legs wrap around my waist with a comfortable familiarity. This weight belongs to me. It makes me stronger than I've ever been in my life. And my heart feels as though it will grow beyond this frame of mine, and spill out into the world. Into my daughter. Where all that love will be held, so someday, perhaps, she will be lucky enough to have this feeling of being a supernova, and will send her own joyous love out of herself to enfold another.