Drinking: Sweet Tea
Riding the cart at Kroger in 2008, she reached up for a Little Golden book. He handed her the one on top, Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. She concentrated on the pages throughout the entire shopping trip. Here’s an iphone pic from that day:

SB, as she is known in our house, has been with us every day since: in film, doll form, pillow case, you name it. Other princesses come and go, but the story of SB resonates with her. I am always sad for the parents in this story who had long wished for a child and yet they have to let her go as an infant with the “Varies” {fairies, but my daughter calls them Varies, so I do as well} and when she returns, she is almost immediately married. There is something so dear in the way her mother reaches to hug her when she returns and her dad pats her hair, just moments before she has to take the dance floor and leave again. It’s just a story, but one that seems so familiar.
Each night, getting her to fall asleep is a long process that is often interrupted by passing cars and their bass stereos and a vocal cat who seems to sense the moment when she is about to drift off. When I am sleep deprived too, or haven’t had any time to myself, I look at the clock and see she’s not asleep yet and think about all of the things I will do once she is asleep. I’m ashamed to admit that most of the time that I am singing the nightly songs and patting her hair, I am thinking about cases. I have solved more problems for clients in a rocking chair {or trying to get her to sleep in general} than in my desk chair. Each night, I lay down with her until she falls asleep, her head on my arm. I know that she is finally to that place where I can sneak away when she feels so light that she might float up to the ceiling. In that moment, I feel relieved for about a nano-second and then, almost immediately, I miss her. She seems to be floating so very far away and I can’t help but think, on a completely irrational level, that I should try to get to where she is as fast as I can before she floats away.
by Teaworthy
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