Alice does this thing where she has to look over the edge of the bed. She’s already toppled onto the floor (head first, might I add – way to go mom skills …) and yet keeps making a beeline for that mysterious view. It’s like she expects to see something amazing each and every time rather than a dirty floor and unwashed laundry. And it doesn’t matter that she already knows the danger. She is unafraid of falling. She would rather risk it than potentially miss out on the magic.
Children see things that we’ve somehow forgotten how to see. That wonder that shines in her eyes as she rushes to the edge of the bed is something that I’m beginning to remember. That uncertainty unfolding before her in each moment is reminding me to look at everything differently; almost like new. This is why we have kids. We have kids to relearn how to see the magic in the world.