She wants to be close but in control of the closeness, something I can certainly understand even if it is hard to resist pulling her in snuggly against my stomach and chest to feel her heart beat against my own. I settle for a hand on her stomach to feel her breath as my eyes do all the exploring, they travel across her tiny bump of a nose, her smooth eyelids and full eyelashes and the curves of her ears with a small edge of skin along the top much like my own. My skin can feel her warmth radiating from her own and my nose catches wafts of lavender mixed with the sweet smell of milk on her breath and the less than sweet bits of milk on both of our clothing. As she sleeps I dream of a future with room for her to roam in and with nature, feel soft soil squishing between her toes and with the ability to know the trees and creatures by name. I want to give her everything that I have found beautiful in this life while also watching her identify beauty all her own. Parenting is hard in ways that were incomprehensible until she was here in my arms, it is frightening and terrifying to want to do the right thing but to have to decide those right things all on your own, with no other to point blame at if those rights turn out to be wrongs. There is only growing and changing and just really it is so much of the growing on your part that is the most surprising of all. The person I am becoming is required to find confidence and a certain bluntness I am not accustomed to but that I am hopeful I can grow into as time continues to move with no ability to slow it down, I can only hope to catch it from time to time and snuggle it close for those sweet wafts of milk and lavender.
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