Mom, What if the moon was always gold?
I looked over at her little face beaming up at me. I quickly grabbed my phone and snapped this photo.
She was so full of wonder, so full of magic, this one, the way she sees the world. She truly is my little rainbow unicorn.
i didn't want to forget her face.
I didn't want to forget the miracle of childhood -- of her childhood -- and her absolute knowing that
the world is good, and pure,
that moons are made of gold,
that brains have their own names, like Pinky,
that on certain days everyone one, and everything, including bones,
need a special new name to fit a certain sparkly mood.
Here are a few more from the mind of Navia from the last month or so:
Mom, when will I be a hundred?
Write a note on my head, Mom. And a picture. (I trace photos and love notes on her forehead. She does the same for me-- at every goodbye, at every goodnight.)
My brain said Darth Vader is in Hollywood.
I named my brain Pinky.
I named my bones scary. And it's last name is skinny. Middle name is Boney. So Scary Skinny Boney is its name.
Mom I changed my name to Stella.
Mom, when will I be a thousand?
Dad, did you know I've seen Superman and he's famous? Mom after i'm Princess Leia, can I be the girl superman? Can we start flying, Dad?
I like it when people can't see my skin.
My name's not Stella. It's Rebecca now.
Dolphins can't even pick there own boogers cause they don't have a hand.
(pics from when we went camping over spring break)
xxo
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