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Lucy is sleeping against my chest as I type. At eleven months and one week, she still likes to sleep close enough to hear my heart beat. I wear her now for at least two hours a day, which means that she’s both big and small. Small enough to be carried. Big enough to make her mama’s shoulder’s ache. Small enough to want to be this close. Big enough to remind me this time won’t last much longer.

Today is her papa’s 30th birthday. We woke up and made biscuits and gravy. Later this evening, we’ll feast on bahn mi and ice cream cake. Lucy barely understands it now, but she’s so blessed to have Ryan as a father. He is both strong and gentle, and he loves both of us more and better than I could have ever hoped for…happy Birthday sweet Ryan! The world is such a better place because of you.