Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

Our camera broke. That's a passive way of me saying that I broke the camera. Or, at least, I put it in my bag where something heavy fell on it.

I think it may be a good thing to go without it for a little while. It's nice to see Ally through my two eyes instead of one squinty eye through a lens. And I realize I'm due for some updates on her development and general wonderfulness.

Ally is saying a lot of words now and is pretty adept at repeating sounds she hears. Her vocabulary is sufficient to communicate her basic needs: hug, more, shoes, socks, hat, ball, kick, car, play, bath, eat, egg, candy (oops), diaper, papa, walk, poo poo, coat, brush, teeth, play, water, milk, cheese, bear, baby, up, down, go out, and [mommy/daddy] where go?

She loves to spin and dance and get dragged around the apartment on a blanket. She loves to give kisses through the window and take giant steps and color with crayons. We both love running up and down the halls of the building chasing the ball. Her favorite (and only) movie is "Baby Signing Time" and she asks for it all day. I even play the music in the car and she sings along; yesterday I discovered that she knows the playlist well enough to predict the next song and she tells me what it's going to be. Hat! or Wash!

I hope as long as I live I won't forget the sight of her wild curly head and small body standing on the balcony with the ocean behind her. I get such a bittersweet feeling watching her there. It's so nearly heaven; I think this feeling must be a longing to get closer.

Reminds me of a poem I love.

Haunted Importantly
by Jack Gilbert

It was in the transept of the church, winter in
the stones, the dim light brightening on her,
when Linda said, Listen. Listen to this, she said.
When he put his ear against the massive door,
there were spirits singing inside. He hunted for it
afterward. In Madrid, he heard the bell begin somewhere
in the night rain. Worked his way through
the tangle of alleys, the sound deeper and more
powerful as he got closer. Short of the plaza,
it filled all of him and he turned back. No need,
he thought, to see the bell. It was not the bell
he was trying to find, but the angel lost
in our bodies. The music that thinking is.
He wanted to know what he heard, not to get closer.