Olive’s Home.

I am home. Our home. Where our child sleeps quietly. I go and kiss her on her tiny face, My lips so big they can touch her cheek and the corner of her mouth all at once. She quietly breaths out. Comforted. I’m here to protect her and look after her. Not a worry, only good ahead of her. She’s tired and dreaming of the big week she’s had.

Airports and airplanes. Stomping through terminals and isles. Each smile she gives away brightening up someone else’s day. It’s a big job. Momma guides her through the jungle of travelers with precision. She lands in a new world. Baby trudges through the grass barefoot in the hot sun being watched by grandparents and great grandparents, cousins, and aunties and uncles. So much love from places so far from her treehouse home. Boating down rivers and riding in big cars- I carry her through swimming pools and raise her high above my head to the sky where her strong legs kick and splash. Giggling and screaming in a language between real and child.

Now we are back safe at home base again. Missing and missed by so many. A reset between this adventure and next. Tomorrow when she wakes the house will be clean again and ready for the ceremonial tossing of the toys. The plates are clean and ready for feasts of fruits and breads and meats. Sippy cups full of tasty milks and juices ready to quench thirsts and make puddles.

Everything is ready for you my love. The world is yours. Rest up and sleep well. Dream up all the adventures to be had. Momma and I will take you to all the places you want to go. Hold our fingers with your tight fist and drag us to all the new things you discover.

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