Dancing.

Dear Malone,

I'm sitting here in Meme's living room. I've got the house all to myself. You're off on a walk with Meme and Daddy has gone for a run. I'm enjoying a small break from the responsibilty that is caring for you. It's like pushing the reset button as I sip on fancy coffee from Starbucks, feel the breeze come in through the window, and enjoy the birds singing.

This morning our little family of three went to the market to pick up a few things for Meme. As we entered through the market's doors, we were greeted with the music of steel drums.

If you were to ask Daddy, he would tell you that I hate dancing. Its true. The thing about me and dancing is that I feel like I'll make a fool out of myself- I haven't got much rhythm and so I always feel so silly.

But while you and I were standing in line waiting to order coffee, I felt the music. Together (I was wearing you via the BabyHawk), you and I started to sway and dance. I couldn't stop my feet from moving and you couldn't stop your hands from waving. I didn't care about feeling silly. We were in our own little world for a few moments- lost to the beat and sound of the drums. Daddy watched from the strawberry section and he agreed, the moment was truly magical.

Forever with love,
Mommy