she’s sitting few yards away, dark oval shaped eyes peering curiously from beneath glossy eyelashes that extend from here to forever. her chubby fingers are running absentmindedly through the soft tall grass littered with tiny white flowers. and she plucks stem after stem, creating a clearing that’s all her own. 

“mama?” she says, jolting herself into consciousness and straining her neck to find me, her protector. “right here,” i remind her, hoping she’ll turn back to the daisies. these are my favorite moments, the ones where i get to watch her transform from a bouncing baby into a precious little personality. she’s forgotten about the flowers and clammers to her

feet, 

falls, 

tries again, 

shakes the dark curls from her eyes, and 

finally,

takes

one

clumsy

step,

then

another.

“mama!” she says, smiling wide, the hint of a third tooth finally making its way to the surface. she’s bumbling towards me as i drop to my knees, opening my arms wide to receive her. she’s giggling, the auditory equivalent of dozens of glittery little stars, and she throws herself into my outstretched arms.