Hello Sometimes Sweet readers! My name is Allie and I'm a newly married, newly mommed gal from Savannah, Georgia. I am so excited to be writing here today, thanks for having me Danielle!
Growing up, my mom always took the time to tell us magical stories. I fondly remember refilling the silver thimble on the window's ledge with water so that the fairies would have something to drink at night. One time she handed me a glass bottle of glitter and told me it was pixie dust (I was really into Peter Pan) and I spent a good half hour in the backyard, sprinkling it on my head and jumping off rocks in hopes of flying. I was that kid who believed in Santa for an uncomfortable amount of time.
My mom was always coming up with these little stories, fun and silly things to believe in. And every time she told us a new one I believed her. This curiosity she sparked within me made life seem so....special. I mean, if there really is a fairy in the fridge who turns the light on and off then what other amazing things does this world have to offer me? With each tale, my imagination blossomed. I realized that there are greater things out there and that we are just a small part of a bigger piece. That there is so much to discover.
As my own baby grows I am even more thankful for the sense wonderment towards the unknown that my mother instilled in me. Henry's own amazement for new discoveries is more apparent to me and it's something I will never grow tired of watching. As he enters toddlerhood, I am looking forward to passing on some of the stories my mom told to us. I want him to trudge through the woods with a spy notebook and really believe he's solving a great mystery. I want him him to look up at the stars and wonder what else is out there and how he can get to it. I want Henry to believe in the impossible for as long as he can and to grow up with a profound curiosity about everything around him. Isn't childhood beautiful?
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