In late December of last year, I started keeping an old-fashioned journal to communicate how I felt to the littlest person I could possibly imagine. In my mind, she was very tiny and quite charming. She wore a fancy tiara and knew kung fu. She had beautiful eyes and was good at keeping secrets. She had been living in my wife’s belly for a few months.
My wife and I ended up writing to her through that journal every night until one day she actually showed up. She screamed, I cried, and we’ve all been awake since that point. From then until now, I’ve stayed pretty busy scrubbing nipples, singing songs about poopie, and folding ridiculously small clothes.
The idea to move on from the journal to this blog was inspired by our dear friend Jeni (check out her own beautiful story at youandmeandellab.blogspot.com), along with the idea of eternal embarrassment and eventual delight for our lovely and lively daughter, Loreli.
Though we want nothing more than to have this read by the world, truth be told… this is here for her. Just like everything is, at least in my mind (where you’re all wearing top hats as you read this)…