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Waves

Some days, when I’m sitting in our rocking chair in the nursery feeding my daughter, I think of nothing.

I hold the bottle to her mouth and I think of what to make for dinner, or what groceries we need, or when I might be able to wash my hair next.

But some days, like today, when I’m holding her sweet little body in my arms, I look down at her and it’s like my heart just crawled up on a surfboard and caught the best wave of its life.

Today as I was feeding her, I was thinking of nothing in particular.

I looked down to see if she was still feeding or nearly ready for me to pop her soother in, and when I looked down, I saw one tiny golden hair sticking straight up from the rest, waving like a piece of seagrass in the current. That one, tiny golden hair was rocking in time to the rhythm of our rocking chair, and my heart just broke into a million pieces.

I looked at her crazy little patch of hair, sticking up in all directions, and realized that tomorrow, it will look different. It will wake up in a different crazy pattern. It will be a few micro-millimetres longer.

Her front teeth that have just come in will be a little further out from her gums than they were today. Her pudgy, stout little fingers clasped so tightly around her bottle that they’re white around the edges will be a little longer, a little thinner.

One day in the not so distant future, I won’t be in this chair with my daughter at this time of day anymore because I’ll be back at work and she’ll be in dayhome.

One day, I won’t even remember what she was like at this age.

I’ll need videos and photos to remind me that she was ever this small, and this perfect.

When I saw that tiny little golden hair swaying in the sunlight today, I realized that every single moment I have with her is a gift.

Every day that she wakes up, she’s a new child. A little older, a little different from the day before.