From dollhouses and mud pies to bonds and bills.

There is magic in being a child.

There's beauty in the little things, a butterfly fluttering past the playground on a sunny afternoon.
The smell of crayons on your fingers.
A drawing of two stick figure people holding hands.
Falling asleep in the car and having your father lift you(light as a feather) into his big arms and carrying you to your princess bed.
Having a teddy bear for a best friend.
Ive been longing for those dreamy days.
falling stars that really are just sparkly delicious four point creatures of magic, not a culmination of gas and rock and hard stuff that can hurt us.
i miss that Love was still Romeo and Juliet. Not Sid and Nancy.

Remember the time that when it hurt you cried out in pain unashamedly.and with pure of hearted-ness.
A time where Jumping off the monkey bars without fear resulted in soft green grass between ones toes.
Ah what bliss to be a young little person filled with endless possibility.

I swapped my dollhouse for a real house recently and my collection of puppy in my pocket has trasnslated into adulthood by becoming a collection of shoes and vintage sugar spoons.
The crayon smell on my hands have been replaced by the sharp scent of coriander and garlic as i throw a dinner party for all my grown up friends.
The only thing that hasn't changed...are the stars.
I still look at them, and imagine them shining and winking at eachother, shyly watching the people down below, lit up by their luminous golden light of night.
my journey from child to woman has been filled with bruises, stumbles, little scratches, big happiness, even bigger love and a sense of utter bliss.

I can have my cake and eat it now..without someone yelling at me for spilling crumbs on the floor, because its my floor and my carpet bought by my very grown up money from my very grown up job.
Sjoe its nice to be a redlipstick wearing girl of 26.