I watch my baby slowly dance her fingers through the air. She follows them with her dark brown eyes as I reflect on all the ways in which she embodies perfection, overwhelming myself with the extensive list. The back of my mind takes regular notice of the time passing by. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. But time itself is irrelevant, as everything is in this moment. Everything except the tiny dancing fingers, the perfect baby they belong to, and my impossible task of giving her the love- the life- she deserves.