Ordinary Magic
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It’s funny. The loudest childalways becomesthe quietest sleeper. The same baby who spent the day redecorating the living room with toys, trying to eat dog food, and laughing while making terrible decisions… now snores softly with one hand wrapped around my shirt. Like she doesn’t spend her waking hours plotting against the very concept of…
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The nighthas its own wayof passing the torch. One pair of eyesfinally closes. Anotheropens. As if my daughtershave signedan invisible agreementnever to leave mealone for too long. Gabby yawns,content with the chaosshe created. Then— A tiny voice. Tiny handsreaching through the crib. Izzy,with sleep still tangledin her hair,looks at melike she’s surprisedI never left. So…
Between Bruises and Blooms 