I watch their days mostly from above them. I lean over his crib and tuck the blanket up around his frogged legs, from above he takes up a humorously small area of his mattress. I walk into the play room where he is crouched over a recycling truck making sound effects, loading and unloading the… Read more »
This baby thing, man. Can’t get me enough. What is it about the everywhichway hair that is maybe sort of balding along the back that gets me? Why does it make me giggle and feel all bubbly inside? And his daddy’s eyes. How on earth is it possible to have exact replicas – but miniature… Read more »
I can’t even say the word g-r-a-p-e-s in my own house. Well, I can’t say that in my own house if I don’t have anything with which to back it up. (Pardon me for still ending that sentence with a preposition, but ‘up with which to back it’ just sounds pretentious.) If I were to… Read more »
It’s midnight or 2 am or maybe 3, I don’t know. All I know is this is ridiculous. I look down at my first born son, mere weeks, months old, crying and flailing, latching and unlatching, and I groan out a sigh. Loud and heavy I sigh and I hope the air leaving my lungs… Read more »
