My Favorite(s), Continued

Addison is my favorite because she is a free spirit. She dances like a leaf in the wind, like a dainty butterfly, like a hippie. She has fantastic voices that she tells silly stories in, and makes up songs with. She is her daddy's girl, which I fully appreciate. Addison is my favorite because her goofiness, and her inability to actually smile for the camera has become rather endearing - most of the time. She is my favorite because she can paint for an hour at the table by herself, or play hard with the best of them. I love her tenderness and her compassion. I have found her crying while watching a sad part of a movie, or while listening to what she considers "sad songs" (Slower songs, usually acoustic). She shows empathy with anyone who seems sad or hurt, often telling me we should pray for them. I love her prayerful heart. Addison is my favorite because of the way she plays with Troy and talks with Mia, as if they're her own little babies. She dotes on them, not making a spectacle of herself, just going about her day tending to her loves. Speaking of loves, Addison is my favorite because she loves to sing. And read. And laugh. She is dramatic and subtle all in the same breath. She is my favorite because she has dimples, and freckles that prove that angles really do kiss baby cheeks. Addison is my favorite because I didn't think I really needed to have a daughter, until I had her. Addison is my favorite.

Comments

Lolly Caruana said…
your description of her reminds me of many of my "favorites" about you. i'm glad that little apple hasn't fallen too far from her beautiful mama tree. :)
Hippo Brigade said…
What a fun post, you captured Addie perfectly.
She is a fantastic little lady. I love the part where you said, "she just going about her day, tending to her loves."
Judy Prince said…
I love her tiny voice that has such range... and her expressive eyes... and I especially love that she LOVES to be read to for long periods of time. I will always remember when we'd sit in the rocker in her room at night and as we finished book after book, she'd lean over the arm of the rocker, point to her basket of books and say, "next one." Aaaah... sweet times.

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