I run my fingers through her hair. Her soft, blonde waves. She giggles and runs away.

Later, I close my ears off to the siren of cries, turn my back to the alligator tears running down her face. I can’t respond to the wails and cook dinner and hear what her brother is asking of me all at once.

A minute later, when the sauce pan is under control and I can take a deep breath, I kneel down and look her in the eyes, coaxing away the frustrations, the sadness, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks, and ask her what she needs. I hug her little body close. She tells me, I get it, and she smiles. Finally.

Her favorite request is “Essie do it”. Her second most-used? “Can’t.” She wants so badly to be independent, but darn it if there are things she can’t do yet.

Her world is a swing. Up and down, up and down..

Smiling, joyful laughter, raspberries on her protruding belly, chasing her down the hall and tickling her neck when I catch up to her.

Screams, shoulders sagging, deaf ears when I won’t give her that second cup of strawberry milk, when her sister just wants to play by herself.

She is so small and the world is so very big.

hat by Carisa at A Little Knitting