Two little bunnies in a pod

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Dear Pony,

It has never been more clear to me now that God gave me a part time job that I  love doing and your Dada as my husband because he knew, without those two things, I would smother the fuck out of you.  We would be so enmeshed and attached it would be ridiculous. Without my work to take some of my focus, it would all be on you, honey.  And that, I am sure, would not be such a good thing.  Intense, is a word that might be used.  Hovering.  Helicopter.  All of it.  But because of my work, and my new work I am creating, and the balance of your Dad, I keep my fanaticism about you in check.  For the most part.  

But I have to say it.  

I am crazy about you kid.

Every day, more and more, you continue to absolutely amaze me with your wit, charm, goofiness, and intelligence.  I am fascinated by who you are.  The person you are becoming.  And it’s happening so fast!  It feels like I wake up and there is some new piece of you being revealed for the first time EVERY DAY!  It’s crazy.  25 months.  That is how old you are.  Yet you are growing at warp speed.  

We were sitting in art class today with other kids and everyone was discussing this, what a difference a month makes in this 2-3 year old time.  You can see it so clearly too, in a group like that.  We have a 20 month, 22 month, 25 month, 26 month, 27 month, and a 28 month.  Wow.  It’s a trip.  Watching all these little people interact and figure shit out.  I love it.

After Art Class with Ms. Molly we always get a juice from the Juice Place next door.  Your mode of deciding is by color, purple, blue, green, or orange.  Mine is by ingredients, what am I most lacking today?  So you picked a purple concoction of blueberries, beets, green apple, and kale while I went for the hard core green apple, kale, lemon, and triple ginger.  Whoa. It was intense.  That word again.  Sensing a theme.  But I needed it, the intensity of the triple ginger, she said it would be best for my cold. 

I hate being sick.  I never am.  Ever.  For reals.  And now I remember why.  Because it SUCKS.  Especially when trying to run after you, my little darling.  Feeling like someone punched me in the back and that I am going to cough up a lung is not fun when you want to dance over and over again to the sound of The Whistle on our instruments app. I felt so old, bending over and wheezing.  But you were so full of life and ridiculously charmingly excited about this dance we were co creating that I couldn’t stop.  And now that I have put you to bed, I am paying the price for it.  I really don’t know how to rest.  I tried yesterday while you were at school.  I forced myself, with much aggressive coaxing from your Dada, to just stay at home all day while you were at school and watch the entire season one of Breaking Bad.  I am really behind on that show, it seems.  Sort of slipped me by during one of my TV free sabbaticals.  Anyway, I wander in this post.  I just wanted to say something to you.  So many things actually.  I want you to know, forever, how much I love hanging out with you.  That you and your Dad are my two favorite people in the world to spend time with and that I particularly enjoy whatever special thing we have now, and I pray to GOD EVERY DAY, that your teenage years are much more gentle on you than mine were on me.  

I pray you have a different karma than I.

You know what you did today that totally blew me away, you looked up at me in Art Class while you were sitting in my lap, and you caressed my cheek before giving me an upside down kiss.  It was the most loving gentle and sweetest thing I have ever experienced. 

Thank you for that Pony.  

Thank you.

Those are the moments I will cherish for the rest of my life. 

I love you.

Little Pony Bunny.

 

Mama Bunny

 

 

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