The bean is dancing around like a little champ, and I’m starting to feel him kick and jab. He’s like a little butterfly, fluttering here and there: left of my belly button, then over on my right side. Dear little bean, so sweet, so innocent, just a little mover with little thoughts and little dreams.
I’m writing to him, at those times thoughts light upon me that I feel are worth sharing. One that struck me today was straight from Bambi: if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all. It baffles me how some people can take pleasure in putting others down, in making people feel bad, in telling you how you make their life hard or sad or empty. It makes no sense.
And then there are some people who light up the room even when they’re not there. I found this annotated recipe and my heart melted. My husband is a treasure.
As is my pup. It’s funny, when I hear classic love songs (like “unforgettable”) I picture her little face and the way her ears move and her little sniffles.