I love my daughter. I love waking up in the morning just to see her sweet face, smiley or crying. I love watching her try something new, the way she so intently holds things in her hand, watches for a second, shoves it in her mouth, removes it, stares at it some more. She manipulates things with such intensity. I'd forgotten what that is like, since now I am usually doing five things at once and planning three more. She reminds me to stop for a moment and watch her. This is special magic, being a baby, and fleeting. I need to realize her sweetness now, for she is passing as she breathes into new worlds.