letters to madeline | swoon

8 month | paperyrain.com

8 month | paperyrain.com
8 month | paperyrain.com
8 month | paperyrain.com
8 month | paperyrain.com
8 month | paperyrain.com
As I’ve watched the news over the past few weeks, it’s been hard. Hard to watch the devastation, hard to hear of the loss, hard to understand how to help change things, and hard to know that we brought you into a world that isn’t pure enough for you.
I look at your sweet baby eyes, listen to your intoxicating baby giggles, and find my own solace in knowing how innocent and content you are in our little bubble. I wish that I could always protect you from the difficult, the sad, the struggles, the disappointment, and the hurt. When you’ve got your heart walking (currently trying to crawl) around outside your body, it’s difficult not to have this overwhelming emotion when it comes to keeping it, you, safe.
As much as I want to keep you from any pain, I know that this life we’ve been given is meant to be lived, not feared. Since I can’t protect you from everything (don’t put it past me to try), I’ll make sure that in between the heartaches, tough life lessons, scrapes, and scariness, that your life is filled with as much joy as you can handle, and that you’re able to see there is good and happiness left in this world (you’re proof of that).
Sure there are bad things and bad people around (and I pray you encounter as little as possible) but there are also great things and amazing people around too. Sometimes you might have to look a little harder to see them, but they are there. So I’ll keep reminding myself, by reminding you, to laugh too much and too hard, where your head flies back and your stomach hurts. Love with your whole heart, where you’re vulnerable and you’re totally full (that’s how I met your daddy). Hug a couple seconds longer and squeeze a little tighter. Sing. Dance, even if you look like a muppet (ahem, me). Make every day an adventure and when you can, take grand adventures in the mountains, the cities, and over seas. Lastly, and maybe mostly importantly, if you can’t find the good, be the good.
Happy 8 months my beautiful baby girl.

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