You’ve been antsy today – not able to settle down. I worry that you are uncomfortable, but can’t seem to soothe you. You seem, though, to like the Baby Bjorn. Your Dad thinks you’ve crossed a developmental threshold and are trying to find your legs. Indeed, every day you are more alert, more present, with clearer interests – lights, sounds and increasingly good control of your hands – you’ve found your mouth repeatedly today and car reach for your toys [drawing of floor toy]. When you sleep, your lids appear translucent, with fine delicate red veins visible below the surface. Your eyes are large and so the lids command your face and you are breathtakingly beautiful and so peaceful. I love to nurse you when you’ve just begun to stir. You take my nipple in your mouth with a question – like a treat you think will be delicious but have never had before. It rests against your bottom lip  and you explore it with your tongue. You then begin, slowly, deliberately, but assuredly to nurse, and when my milk lets down, you swallow with the same deliberation, eyes closed and look so satisfied…

When we dress you up in your lion suit – but really whenever we take you out, we are transcendent – somehow, in others’ eyes, more than ourselves. Last night at El Taqueria, we got an extra glass of my banana liquado and people, as I always have, smile on the street. At Mr. Crowley’s wake and funeral you gave people hope – a glimpse of the future – you gave a reason to be happy when they needed it – reminded me of the truth that life’s a cycle.

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