My littlest guy is a dream. He is enormous, but I just know that his heart is bigger and mushier than his second and third chin combined. I already hope and dream that his heart is never broken and his grins and coos are never interrupted with even a twinge of sadness. I was reading a blog today that I really love, and this poem was included in a post, and it really made me think of the miracle of an emerging little person, part of me and Ben, but wholly his own. Sorry to be so deep, but I am feeling deep today.
Yours is the only face I recognize.
Bone at my bone, you drink my answers in.
Six times a day I prize
your need, the animals of your lips, your skin
growing warm and plump. I see your eyes
lifting their tents. They are blue stones, they begin
to outgrow their moss. You blink in surprise
and I wonder what you can see, my funny kin,
as you trouble my silence. I am a shelter of lies.
Should I learn to speak again, or hopeless in
such sanity will I touch some face I recognize?
Almost six months old, and you can already see what kind of little guy he is. He is patient and takes it all in. He is rarely bothered by Lucas' near constant hugging and pinching and good-intentioned 'attention'. He giggles but rarely just throws out major hiccup inducing laughter. He can just stare at your eyes for ages and is great at reaching and pulling things to himself.
Especially food. This past week he has really starting to pack in the food. As if he needs to gain weight, but whatever. Lucas and I made applesauce from our freshly picked apples and of course there is always rice cereal. He likes sweet potatoes and rice crackers too! I have a feeling I only make large babies. Really large babies.
Lately, I just can't stand how snuggly and dreamy he is. I just want to drink that little guy up!
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