My Wild Heart

My goodness, my little Townes. I look into your face, and so much of you is still a mystery to me, but I am so desperate to know every last thing about you. I want to understand what is so interesting to you about my hair and the way the inside of my mouth feels, how you know that your brother has such a silly and hilarious sense of humor, what you are saying when you lay in your crib kicking and babbling when you wake up from a nap. You smile the biggest and laugh the loudest. Your laugh comes straight from you belly and shakes your whole body in a way I’ve never seen. You radiate joy, an infectious joy that draws in old friends and strangers alike. Your face is stunning. Your huge eyes and strong chin give you a look of insatiable curiosity for the world around you.

Papa and I have a little game we play:  every few days we ask each other what our favorite part about you is. Of course it has been your roley poley thighs, your dimples, your perfectly sloped nose. But for me, it has also been the way you scratch my back with one hand and stroke my collarbone with the other each time you nurse, continuously breaking to look up and smile at me. It is the way you rest your head on my shoulder and giggle when I sing to you right before bed. It is the way you furrow your brow when you play on the rug by yourself. It is the ferociousness with which you attack a spoon. It is the way you laugh when I clap your feet together. It is the wonder and pride that comes across your face when you lay kicking the water in the bathtub.

My love for you feels out of body. It feels wild. It hurts and it heals. My smallest little sweetheart, you keep me smiling.

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