esmé is still a new-enough reader that she often stops herself a few times every page and smiles at me with the clearest blue seas of happy and asks can you believe i can do this?
i can believe she can do anything.
she reminds me it's good practice to marvel at yourself a few times every page. i mean, we're all probably doing something right now that would make someone else, somewhere else, catch their breath and think we just hung the moon. i'm sure of it.
sometimes she says things like man...i used to be so DUMB! i remember just laying in my crib thinking what am i? i don't know any words, i can't do anything...i'm just laying here! and then all i remember is walking around and talking and finally acting like a person! and it just gets better every day!
yes. we've all had those dummy days. who said tomorrow's money...it brings more sense? most likely, a rapper. anyway. it's truth. {also truth? esmé needs to be one of those cheesy motivational speakers. can you imagine? her tour could be called man...i used to be so DUMB! sold. out.}
last night she made me promise i'll stick around and help her grow up. because she thinks there's a lot more for her to know. she can just tell.
some days i think i'm severely under-qualified for this job. and then immediately after that, i think there's at least one person in the world who would look at whatever it is i'm doing right now in the middle of the afternoon and catch her breath and think i just hung the moon.
it's hitting me that i'm leaving my mom again. everyone, really. but, my mom...
ugh. can't put this one into words, i guess.
yep. that about covers it.
