sticks.

Sometimes I wonder if Squísh's life would be better if we lived in Italy. Or France. Or New York City. And then sometimes I think about having a money bin - and sending her to all the gymnastics or dance classes we could dream up. Or maybe even a preschool... for that matter. (In a couple months though, because currently she's still two.) And then sometimes I look at travel blogs for thirty whole minutes, and wish I hadn't because it leaves me feeling odd and insecure and kind of like my life doesn't measure up to much. (Lame, but true. It happened just thirty minutes ago.)

But I closed the blog, and I found the picture of Squísh and her stick. It was terribly underexposed, but I loved her expression. (She loves sticks right now. She'll find two of them everywhere - and then hand me mine.) So I took the photo and adjusted the light - only the light. The grass went green. (As green as it is in real life.) Her messy little pigtails turned blonde (as adorable as they are in real life), and those eyes stared. straight. into. my. soul. 

And there she was offering me a stick. 

Italy was nowhere on her mind. Or France - she just wanted me to play. (Luckily I had... )

I get caught in my head far too often. I think I need to let the proverbial Jones go on. As far ahead as they will... and I'm pretty sure I need to stop reading their travel blogs. For a time at least. Because we have zero exotic travel plans and we're severely devoid of a money bin. But that is my life- and I absolutely adore my life. I adore my pirates - and watching them grow intrigues me. I adore the little things Steve and I do to make our family, and our life interesting. And I adore those little sticks Squísh finds everywhere.