I am not

"I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.
And I will not be afraid
of your scars.
...whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.

— Clementine von Radics

Chloe in March

We were somewhere in Brooklyn. She was sporting her new green bow from her Auntie Fans.

Font of choice

My all-time favorite font is Times New Roman, size 11.

Second is Calibri, but not in black. In dark blue. Size 11 also.

I used to love Trebuchet in size 10, grey, but not as much. I associate it with my MSN and Xanga days. It's also the font for this blog.

Once in a while, I like Courier New (11).

I hate:
--Lucinda Handwriting
--Comic Sans
--and Jokerman. I mean, have you ever seen that font? Looks like something you'd put on the front of a lame print-at-home invitation, with pixelated emoticons, smiley faces under cone hats, pictures of pinatas and mini tacos, printed on a card folded from an A-4 piece of paper. And just to be clear, I have nothing against cards folded from A-4s; I have made plenty of those in my bright creative days. But I at least drew my own 5 tier birthday cakes, colored in the candle flame, and most importantly, wrote the greeting in my own hand. The worst handwriting would still beat Jokerman.

Chloe in recovery

Chloe was very sick last week but she's getting better now. This weekend we drove by seven lakes and saw lots of lovely Fall leaves. Here she is, not yet fully awake from a nap. She wasn't in the mood for pictures either, and the only real consolation she had was in stuffing her hands in her pockets. She's taken a real liking to walking around with her hands in her pockets, and I think it's partly because it means she doesn't have to hold our hands. She's always loved being an independent little roamer.

But sometimes, and rarely, when she's sitting in her stroller, she'll look at one of us and say, "Hole my han." With this big smile. And I always ask her to say it again, because I love hearing it -- hearing my daughter telling me to hold her hand.