How many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face. – Y.B. Yeats
These days Daisy is always in ten places at once. She is crawling all over the house, pulling herself up on the coffee table and perusing the library books we checked out last week. She is peering out the window, putting her square, triangle, circle and star into her toy turtle, and playing the music on her airplane walker. She is eating Cheerios while I weed. She is laughing with delight at Casey playing with her rope. She is singing and dancing to the music that fills the room.
She is bumping her head on the desk. She is toppling the office paper recycling bin. She is diving into Casey’s water bowl. She is babbling at herself in the mirror. She is saying “hi” to the women in line behind us. She is crawling in circles around me, laughing as I dance, waiting for me to tickle her. She is splashing her daddy at bath time every night, squealing and mimicking the funny noises he makes at her.
She is pulling her toys out of her “baskets,” and then carefully places the toys back. She is pulling up on her “stand and play table,” occasionally letting go to test the strength of her legs. She is smiling as she tentatively takes a few hesitant steps hanging on to walls and futons and coffee tables. She is rolling her soft soccer ball to towards me, waiting to “catch” it when I roll it back. She is pulling paperbacks off bookshelves, thumbing through each of them.
She is taking her socks off and is laughing in delight. She is playing with her measuring cups, banging them on the hardwood floor while I prepare dinner. She crawls right toward her daddy when he walks through the door, giggling as he sweeps her up into a big hug. She is flashing me a toothy grin, asking me with a twinkle in her eye if I will play with her. She climbs up my legs with a book in hand, asking in her silent way for a cuddle while we read. She is squishing banana in her hands before she places it in her mouth.
She is making me fall more in love with her. Every. Single. Day.