Yesterday. Sunny and warm. Sitting on the front porch sharing orange slices with Willa and our 7 year old neighbor. Willa was barefoot. The dogs were doing laps around the house. The neighbor girl was wearing her roller blades. Willa carried around the pansies we bought Sunday by the handle. She put them down and screamed like, well, like a little girl. Willa is now afraid of and intrigued by bugs. A large flying ant was perched on the handle. I do not fear bugs, but detest flying ants. I was heroically brave for my daughter. When it flew away all three of us jumped.
This morning. Three am. Willa walks into the room and starts pawing at my head, finally scrambles up the bed, and next to me. Then on top of me. Then on the other side of me. All the time coughing and mumbling. Jim tries to put her back into her crib, but she follows him back to our bed. I have a two year old stalker.