Warmth. No jacket.
Library. Wind.
“I’m afraid of those big trucks, Mommy.” Bicycle with training wheels.
Stroller wheel corroded off mid-sidewalk push.
Cucumber sandwiches for lunch.
Afternoon sun.
Spaghetti pie planned for supper.
Time to wake the baby. (Oh. Can I still call him a baby when he’s nearly one year old?).
Almost a year spun by since we first met him.
Almost a year since the other children made up the song called “CJ brought spring.”