first things first.

a journal with scribbles of firsts, flights of fancy, and a tiny lock of hair. those where the first posts. bound in soft red leather decorated only with a tiny centered heart to conjure its contents. stories of a silly papa and loose teeth.
when your story was lost along the way i thought many times to pick up where we left off. grab a journal at the next bookshop, pen what matters, forget the sentimental milestones.

but when did you take your first step. when did you loose your first tooth. my note taking days were through since i didnt have these monumental dates at hand. i felt i had failed at documenting the most important steps. where to start if not at the beginning?

first posts, round two. this story wont be shuffled around in boxes, or stored on top shelves, its here for you. present as you are. new everyday.


kisses, momma