mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary

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OK Apartment

Kate-- bless her little heart-- just toddled into the room with a wet head and her shirt soaked. She saw Lise wash her face in the sink earlier and though she'd give it a shot. The days I have this kid absolutely make my week, and I really can't pinpoint the time when having her around became less normal and more special. Truth be told, I really can't pinpoint the time when I changed from a caring-but-not-especially-involved Daddy's girlfried to a madly-in-love-pretty-effing-involved-Daddy's-ex. I do know that the commitment I've made to this child is so far unmatched by anything else.
Kate was born very, very early and is rightly referred to as a miracle. This was long before I came into her life, of course, but I have seen the gut-wrenching photos of her, wrinkled and red and smaller than your average baby doll, and I can safely say that although my medical knowledge is limited at best, the baby in that picture looked an inch away from death. Fast forward four years and she can say her ABC's almost all the way through. She can name every single dog she has ever met and loves them all. She has an obsession with a cheap plastic ring that came with a McDonald's meal her Mother bought her, and she carries a fuzzy Hello Kitty trinket box as a purse. Today she surprised me yet again-- with Holly's incredible patience, she learned to identify pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters (nickels are her favorite) and she learned that Argo, her faithful sidekick, is brown. The sky is blue. The grass is green. Angela's hair is black. The sun is yellow. She amazes me constantly, this stubborn, prissy, giggly little girl. I hope that someday, I can return some of the joy she has given me.
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Tree house plans are underway and I could not be more excited. Tentative ETA? Sometime after next payday. Battery operated cd player, mini-cooler full of beer and wimpy wine coolers (dibs on the wine coolers for me) plus Ethan and a few pillows = Heavvvvvenly. The bee's nest in the tree that neighbors the future location of Angela's Pretty Dreamhouse could possibly put a damper on that, though, although the guy who lives next door to me has rather generously offerred to pay for the exterminator, since the bees love his backyard something fierce. We will soldier on.