He smells better than a thousand lavender fields bathed in Dreft. Sometimes I pretend his feet stink (Ooooo, stiiiiiiinky feet!) but both he and I know that isn’t true.
He hums to himself in his crib. He hums.
He has a crooked smile (that’s my 50% working there). It's the one you’ll see in his little boy and adult face. You’ll need pictures to remember, though. You have already forgotten so much.
At 7 months old, he already finds things silly: loud, one-syllable words, being catapulted anywhere, bending his legs up and under and then face planting.
That belly laugh reinforced by all that gummy goodness in his mouth.
The face he makes when you’ve come to rescue him from his crib… the sleepy bags under his eyes, and an occasional handprint from sleeping on his doughy face.
He’s showing you that your worth is not and cannot be attached to the completion of the noblest of tasks. Sometimes you feel like crying because you don’t believe this yet.
He is showing you what it means to say, everyday, my life for yours.
He hums to himself in his crib. He hums.
He has a crooked smile (that’s my 50% working there). It's the one you’ll see in his little boy and adult face. You’ll need pictures to remember, though. You have already forgotten so much.
At 7 months old, he already finds things silly: loud, one-syllable words, being catapulted anywhere, bending his legs up and under and then face planting.
That belly laugh reinforced by all that gummy goodness in his mouth.
The face he makes when you’ve come to rescue him from his crib… the sleepy bags under his eyes, and an occasional handprint from sleeping on his doughy face.
He’s showing you that your worth is not and cannot be attached to the completion of the noblest of tasks. Sometimes you feel like crying because you don’t believe this yet.
He is showing you what it means to say, everyday, my life for yours.
