Amelia's povSunlight curls lazily through wide windows, warming the floors and casting its rays on the low coffee table before me.I am on the floor seated with my back against the couch, legs folded beneath me and with a stack of books spread out in front of me, on the table and on the floor. Parchment, notebooks, charcoal pencils, pens.....history books on one side, language on the other. Ink stains my fingers.The lesson is half finished, though I've paused more times than I care to admit. I was easily distracted by the small little human with the cutest giggle a few feet away.Finishing school at home was my choice. I wanted to spend every single second with her. Especially for those special first months. I wanted to be present for every laugh, every frustrated huff when the building blocks wouldn't stay upright.Across the room, my daughter, Aida, sits on a thick blanket Raiden's mother made for her before she was even born. I giggle softly as I recall how she struggled to do it
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