Nice wedding ring, Mr. Gay. ::runs:::
Enola picked up the blanket that had been left behind - further proof of a very tired child - and had the same realization she'd had every day for the past year. They were still making most of this parenting stuff up. And that was okay, wasn't it?
The short walk to the bedroom was all it took for Izzy to fall into the deep sleep that only a child could manage. As mothering instincts went Enola had none. Not in the traditional sense. What she felt for the little being curled up on the bed was still new and at times overwhelming.
She draped the blanket over her daughter's sleeping form and noted that it didn't quite cover Izzy like it did a month ago.