Bean, bean, the magical fruit...

Miss M's nickname is Bean. She's just such a little bean, such a cute bean, such a baby bean... you get the idea.

I've been spending a lot of time starring at her lately. Starring at her chubby little elbow crooked up behind her head when she sleeps. Starring at her puffy pink lips as she rhythmically breathes in and out. I'm trying to commit it all to memory. Before I even have time to notice she'll be a kid, then a teenager, then an adult. I don't want to forget a single thing about her, least of all her quirky way of lifting one eyebrow when she is confused by something new.

The more deeply I fall in love with my daughter the more impossible it becomes for me to understand how anyone can ever feel anything but compassion, love, and awe at the face of a child. How is it humanly possible that so many people mess up their kids? Abuse seems to be a myth to me now - it simply can not be real that a mother or father could harm their little girl's innie-belly-button, or degrade a giggly girl's happy disposition.

I've always felt a great deal of empathy for animals. Dogs, cats, gerbils, I can't bear to think of them hungry, hurt, or alone. I never felt the same way about humans. I suppose because as a human your choices are what dictate your comfort in your life. But now I look into Miss M's deep blue eyes and I see things a little differently. She is unspoiled. She hasn't had the chance to make a poor choice yet. She will be as good and pure as I can make her, for as long as I can keep her safe from the outside world. That's a huge responsibility and a huge blessing, one that too many parents simple throw away.

I follow the good examples around me. Thank goodness for parents (grandparents) that love each other, thank goodness for siblings that look out for each other, thank goodness for friends that would offer you a helping hand. Thank goodness for Miss M.