I remember how I used to go walk through the infant and baby aisles at the grocery stores, at Walmart. I wanted it all. I wanted to have a reason to buy the sippy cups and the baby bibs and the jars of canned carrots and peas. I wanted the tiny green and yellow onesies and the hooded bath towels and the bubble bath. I wanted rainbow-colored stacking rings and teething toys and soft cotton blankets.
and now I look around my house and I see it all. there are pink and yellow and green baby spoons in the utensil drawer, there is a whole shelf of bottles and sippy cups in the cabinets. there is a basket of baby toys in every room of the house, dinosaurs and trolls and tiny plastic horses. there is bubble bath and giraffe-hooded bath towels in the bathroom, there are tiny yellow and pink floral dresses hanging up in her closet. there’s a shoe drawer with pink cowgirl boots and gray sparkly snow boots and black Mary-Janes.
I love it so much.
I love finding tiny Minnie Mouse socks at the bottom of the dryer and My Little Ponies under my bed. I love, love, love it.
there is so much of her around our house. you walk in and you know in an instant that a little twenty-month-old girl lives here.
I never dreamed of nice couches or a dining room set. I always dreamed of baby spoons and blocks and I’ve got them in spades, they’re everywhere, look under any chair. there is baby debris all over our house and I love it.