Ok, so I’m not made of stone when it comes to children afterall. Poema broke me down, as she did when she was just a few weeks old, reminding me that I have a soft spot for little girls. The kind of soft spot that melts you entirely and says yes, give me your slobber, I don’t even care if you were sick, because this moment is worth any consequence. Poema wasn’t just a taker of attention, she was a giver- cuddling up to me when tired, giving kisses to me and D, appreciating my baking skills, and joining us for our ritualistic intake of San Pellegrino. Yes, this 18 month old drinks San Pel. Because she’s Thaedra’s daughter.
Thaedra is one of my best friends in the world and has the most calming presence I know. When she’s nearby, it’s as though everything negative fades away and life is made of only of that which matters: weekends, love, good food and coffee and the beauty in fine things. When she was pregnant with Poema I felt like I was missing out on seeing that extra glow that she embraced so whole heartedly- which is why I was extra excited when she decided to come visit SF from Australia even though she was in the midst of her second pregnancy. I selfishly got her, the family, and the pleasure of knowing baby #2 before it arrives to play.
A week with the L’s was the best present I could have asked for. I’ve sulked a little after I realized Poema wouldnt be pulling at my front door in the morning, or asking me for more sesame snaps…but at least I get to look at her insatiably beautiful face and golden hair in the photos we took one afternoon: