State of Obvious

Tonight we had to cut your hair.  Three (plus) years of growth all gone with a few snips of the scissors.  You see, you decided to cut a pony tail by yourself, aiming for just the rubber band, but slicing a whole lot more away. It was traumatic, more for me than for you.  Although you were sad for a little while and very worried about the teasing that might follow. It's funny how I'm all wrapped up in you.  When I was little I had crazy curly hair too.  (I still do but that's not really important to the story.)  My mom wouldn't let me grow it out.  It was too messy, too thin, too tangled and mostly just too much.  But, oh how I wanted long, luxurious flowing hair.  (I still do, but that's not important either.)  So here you are, my very own little girl, with hair that grows so slowly and bunches up so tightly it never looks very long.  It can look big, or crazy, or fluffy, but never long.  At least not yet.  I made u...

The answer to every question, every hope, every fear.  All wrapped up in two very different children.  And a spotted dog's backside.

Summer is coming, summer is coming.  I can feel it in the thickness of the air, in the heaviness of the sun.  I can hear it in the birds and crickets, in the motorcycles raging by, in the windows down breeze.  I can see it in the blooms, pinks and reds and yellows, popping up like happy thoughts.  When time moves in such a rush, it's hard to get your feet on the ground.  One moment you're baking cakes for a birthday and suddenly it's been a year and you're searching for one more candle in the drawer.  I keep marking off the degrees of growth spurts, the blank spaces that mark inches between, and I'm amazed.  I'm amazed. Sometimes in March I can't help but feel sad.  It's like the winter hasn't really left yet and one more snowstorm is looming over my shoulder.  This feelings lasts until April, coloring all over my birthday and leaving tiny scars.  But, then, it's almost May.  And things begin to lift - sunshine, flower buds, tre...