it is with a luke warm cup of coffee at hand and a baby, who keeps playing bongos with the keyboard, on my lap that i sit here again, staring at blank screen and the occasional luhjklhjb that needs deleting. this is my
third fourth draft. i'm rusty. as akward as it feels though, it's good be back. between a new baby, a move, and a new house, i had all but abandoned this space.
we were all piled up in bed together this morning; maebell and i were nursing while andy lay next to us and august was at the helm captaining our bed/boat through treacherous crocodile-infested waters. the skies were overcast, but the spring birds happily sang outside the window anyway. it was such a simple, maybe even mundane moment, but i've been holding on to it all day. i took a mental picture, then i took actual pictures, and now here i am writing about it, which makes me wonder why i even feel compelled to share it. or share any moment, especially the intimate ones such as this.
it's been bothering me for a little while now though: for all the stories we have of august, maebelle has precious few. with six months already gone, it's become more pressing that i capture what's left of her fleeting babyhood. and so, i find myself here again. i don't know what this space will hold; how often i will write or what i will share. my intentions don't go much further than wanting a place to document this season. so i guess this is for maebelle.