Hank has been earthside for half a year.
He's spent most of it sleeping, smiling, dirtying diapers and slurping down milk.
And I've spent most of it marveling at him. The ancient knowing of his eyes, the fragile grace of his fingers, every breath a miracle.
I've also spent the past six months matching tiny socks and rinsing sippy cups and reciting nursery rhymes. I haven't paid much attention to the calendar or the clock. I rock him and kiss his cheeks and nibble his toes. I change his clothes and interpret his cries and encourage his explorations.
Sometimes, this fourth go 'round, I amaze myself when I feel like I know what I'm doing.
And then I put my keys in the refrigerator.
Sometimes, behind the milestones, lurks the shadow of his sister.
But mostly I'm simply consumed by the dream of him coming true.
Mostly, I'm extremely grateful for these first few spectacularly fleeting months with him.
Half a year -- already? Thanks for sharing some of these precious cuddly times with us. You do know what you are doing and your keys are between Tollie's trucks and Tucker's latest invention near the downstairs diaper bin!
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