Corner view is a weekly Wednesday gathering, originally hosted by Jane, now by Francesca. A topic is given and you can see impressions; be it photographic or writerly in form, from around the world. Come see the world’s corner view via the links on the sidebar!

Go:

The delicate lock of strawberry blonde hair that grew swifter than the rest and swirled on top of her sweet newborn head eventually growing to a lengthy thickness that she barely lets me run my fingers through these days. The soft arch of her eyebrows that curve delicately together over the sparkle in her deep blue almond eyes. The petite rounding of her small nose that just now at four and a half has the smallest smattering of freckles skipping across the bridge of it. The big apple cheeks that pull back wide and smooth with each grin that comes from her mouth that is a mirror image of my own. The contagious giggle that the baby has clearly caught and imitates when they are together. The practiced interpretive dance of her starfish hands as they come together in explanation of her tenacious speech approximations. And then their tight grip as they fist around my neck and pull me down to her, with soft, warm palms  as she leans her face in close, nose to nose and cupping my cheeks asks if I’m sad. The fury in her well-articulated “No Mommas” when she hears me say it’s time to brush her hair, do her bite-bites, go potty or turn off Barney. The delight in her questioning tone and gesturing hands that she puts up to her chest in a question of inclusion when I suggest we go to the park, the store, make cookies or read a book. The mischievous turn of her head back over a rounded shoulder as she lets me in on whatever rascally prank she’s gotten away with. The hesitant stomps and claps as she stands behind her sister mimicking her dance and cheer moves. The plaintive tone of her cries for, “My Momma” as she collapses in frustration on the kitchen floor when I leave the house too quickly on a weekday morning without her. The rounding of the consonants and vowels as her sister’s names rolls off her carefully positioned tongue in her seeking of them while they still sleep early each morning. The soft hum of pleasure that she unconsciously sings whenever there is bread or cookies with dinner. The persistent insistence of time for swinging the minute we get out of the car at the park. The persuasive and hopeful tones dancing on her lips as she tries to distract us from nap or bed time with a request for one more book.  The focused myopic daily search through her dresser drawers for a bit of purple to wear with her ensemble. The happy whispers as she pats the pillow next to her at nap time urging me to not just kiss her night-night but actually lay down with her. The cheer of excitement at the suggestion of just about any activity that includes all of her family as she runs to tell her sisters all about it. The firm and confident look she pierces you with as she stands her ground waiting for you to catch up to her intention.

These are all the small things that I think of when I picture her dear face througout my day.

Stop.