Cracking open the door

Fiona - 6 months

            I feel a little bit like the Munchkins, cautiously creeping from their hidey-holes while Glenda the good witch sings, “Come out, Come out, Wherever You Are.”
            Tessa and Chris came and spent a night at our place last weekend; Now we are at Nellie and Mike’s for a couple of days. It feels nerve-racking conceptually. When might the Wicked Witch of Corona burst forth in a toxic green cloud? We tiptoe.
            But when we’re together, playing ping-pong, hanging out in the kitchen, basking in the sunshine of Fiona’s toothless smiles, laughing at the frenzied flailing of her little arms and legs…it’s hard to feel anything but just right.
            She’s almost sitting upright on her own, eats more foods, grabs things and pulls them to her mouth. Her vocal repertoire is increasing in variety and volume. She still feels heavenly in my arms, especially when her busy body slowly relaxes, her head leans into my shoulder, and she drops off to sleep against my chest.
 
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 260: 164 words, TOTAL = 44,137; 15,863 remaining