letter to evie

Dear Evie,  

Tonight on our way home from visiting family in Atlanta you were so sleepy.  We kept you up later than we normally do and when we finally got in the car you had trouble falling asleep.  So I reached my hand to the back seat and I held your bare foot.  It took me back to the days when my mother would do that for me on long family car trips.  There was something so sweet and comforting about it for me as a little kid and even later as a teenager. After a minute or so I let go and brought my hand back to my lap and then I heard a little whine and you said in a tired voice, "feet....mama."  So I reached around again and held on tight.  Your warm little naked foot felt so good in my hand (despite your sharp toenails that I can't convince you to let me clip.) We are like puzzle pieces, you and me.  I think about that a lot these days.  You like to play 'baby' with me and lay in my lap and pretend to cry like a baby and you want me to calm you down.  I love holding you like that because it's been a while since you used to let me cuddle you and rock you.  I have such fond memories of those times with you on Bayshore Drive waking up in the middle of the night to feed you and put you back to sleep under the light of daddy rose light in Colonel Chitty's old blue lazy boy. 

These pictures of you in the pasture are some of my favorite.  We walked around the property for a long time that day while your brother slept on my chest in the Bjorn.  We marched around the edge of the fence singing The Iron Rod. You insisted on wearing a purple princess dress and gold fur boots from Momomee.  Your curiosity and love for the outside world makes me proud.

I sure love you and everything you are becoming.

Mama