my little red chair...again

As the Christmas festivities continued at the Rudd house, my parents kept a (supposedly continuous, though not very consistent) slide show running on the wall in the kitchen.

As the slides passed....I caught a few. Here's my favorite.


It was a bit frightening to realize that I have now (rather obsessively) posed Maya over and over again for the same picture my mother took of me twenty-four years ago.

I should know better...

...but I've been trying to help Maya crawl. She is so close.


This morning, as she was wiggling on her belly, trying to reach for a toy up ahead, I helped her straighten her arms..to push herself up higher. She immediately dug her feet into the carpet, straightening her legs too...and did a perfect yoga "down dog"!

Watching her roll around, reaching for things, pulling on anything to sit up...it's frightening. And surreal. All of the stages happen so quickly. Everyone knows it, and yet I am still amazed. I always laugh to myself each time I have THE conversation about Maya when we encounter a friend, an aquaintance, a stranger...
Inevitably, it's always exactly the same:

"Awww....how old is she?"

me: "seven months"

"wow....she is getting so big. It goes so fast, doesn't it?"

me: "yes, it does."

The conversation is so predictable....so cliche, and yet I repeat the same words over and over. Everyone does. Because it's true.

And the wonder of how she is growing up never fades. The way she looks at everything with so much hope...confident that every new detail she sees will somehow delight her and give her more insight as to how the world works. That every new face will adore her and make her laugh.

I worry sometimes, about that one day when she will enter a new relationship or experience expectant, hopeful...and encounter disappointment for the first time.

But it's probably already happened in some ways. And in her seven months of wisdom, she seems far more resilient than I.

She remains....hopeful.

And it's beautiful.