dear huck // 1

you are 104 days old today, and when you woke up this morning it was 2 o'clock and you knew that you were ready for the day. mother was not so sure. the second time you woke it was 7am and with that our morning had begun. my favorite part of every day is the very first minute that i see your wiggly body on the monitor beside my bed. your knees curl up to your chest and your hands float around your mouth as you fight to catch a fist-full of fingers for a morning taste. your hand-eye coordination has some work to do developmentally, and we giggle at the way you clasp one hand tightly around the other fist while simultaneously using every effort you can muster to lock eyes on your morning catch, hold your fists as still as possible, and then, but only after you're sure those pesky hands won't slip away from you first, you pounce. your forefingers and the tops of your hands are raw and bright red from your constant game of cat and mouse. some day you will find a way to mash a full two fists in your mouth at once. until then we are all entertained while you try.

your room is dark, and your humming sound machine softly vibrates the table beside your crib. when i pull back the curtains your eyes watch me move about as i shut off your sound machine, turn on the light, then walk over to you splayed out in your crib. your arms are stretched towards either side of your crib now and your feet reach up to the ceiling, stuck together in your sleep sack. you stare up at me with serious eyes and without a smile. your feet slam down onto the mattress, then shoot up again towards the ceiling. "good morning baby." you smile up at me and try again to capture both fists in your mouth while your feet slam down onto the mattress like bricks. "how did you sleep?" you smell like fresh laundry and i smile at the sound of your voice catching in your throat as you readjust to the new altitude in my arms. you take a deep breath and burry your mouth in my shoulder. your hands are at your sides, your arms locked tightly to your body with the aerodynamics of a luger. in this moment you are sleepy and content, and if i could bottle up the feeling of absolute fulfillment that i have every morning with you in my arms, just like this, i would need nothing else at all. you. you're it, henry.