Trapped

On Sunday night I invited some good friends over for dinner so that I could justify cooking the large roast in my freezer. I had a hankering for a nice roast, with all the fixings: real mashed potatoes, gravy, and homemade rolls. Heather and Doug happily obliged, and came over after church to experience my culinary creations. It's the first time since Ammon died that I've prepared such a nice meal, and it felt pretty good to get my hands back in the kitchen. During the meal, Brooklyn had graciously given up her high chair to Heather and Doug's little boy, and I had placed Brooklyn on the floor next to me with a cracker to munch on while I ate. After a few minutes, Brooklyn started to fuss. I looked beneath me, and was startled to observe her presence directly beneath my chair. To the best of my estimation, she managed to crawl underneath the rungs, and was then trapped below the seat. Her attempts to free herself were pretty cute to watch, and I'm glad that the camera was handy. I'm sure she'll forgive me someday for leaving her trapped for a few minutes so I could capture the perfect shot of her predicament.



I know there has been an overabundance of Brooklyn pictures lately, but I have been intent on trying to capture her babyhood. I'm worried that in the fog of my grief, and in the stress of everything closing in on me now, that one day I will look back and have forgotten these days with her. Every day is so precious at this age, and I don't want to miss anything or have it erased from my memory.