Letters to a daughter from her parents, starting from before she was born

Thursday, September 11, 2014

They say that children change you (To my little girl)

  Mother's day, 2013,
    I rearranged my life.
  "Does this look like two lines to you?",
    inquired my hopeful wife.

  The minecraft game I set aside
    was where your crib now stands;
  the little strip of paper
    was shaking in my hands.

  Fear turned into wonder,
    and confidence to doubt,
  as everything that mattered in the world
    just faded out.

  Our cats are just our pets now,
    furry kids no more,
  you chase them 'round the living room,
    across the dirty floor.

  I don't need an alarm clock,
    before the sun to rise,
  the boundless joy upon your face
    drives sleep out of my eyes.

  I used to think that I was tough,
    scars of my youth abound,
  but when you feel an ounce of pain,
    it hits me like a pound.

  They say that children change you,
    you'll never be the same;
  chaos reigns and everything you loved
    goes down in flame.

  But honestly, it doesn't matter
    if any of that's true;
  my biggest contribution to this world thus far
    is you.

love, dad.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Portraits of You (end of 6/7 months)

The evolution of eating a cucumber
Portrait with a bow

Portrait of a sleeping babe on her mother's back

Portrait of a beautiful dress

Portrait of sheer bliss

Portrait of a cat and his girl

Portrait of a girl and her dad, bucking 'traditional gender roles'

Portrait of an early age interest in dentistry

A portrait of surprise

A portrait of happiness incarnate