nothing new

I am always amazed at how the week goes by and nothing new ever really happens. I almost dread when people ask 'What's new?' because it's been kind of on repeat for months now. Nothing is really ever new. She eats Cheerios with milk. She said "up". It certainly doesn't make for good small talk. She is in her routine, her groove - finally - and we just replay it over and over again at the start of each day. It is quite comforting, actually. Comforting in that just-out-of-the-dryer feeling and your favourite t-shirt. Comforting in the sense that I feel like I know what I'm doing now and I'm not just flying by the seat of my pants. What does that even mean, anyways? But with every new day, she seems to be a teeny bit better at whatever she is doing than yesterday. More words spoken. She points to the ball in the book. She makes the noise of a cat. The little things are the ones that you'll forget.