Post-Trader Joe's shopping trip, in the parking lot at Daddy's school. We brought him coffee and cookies and then we nursed in the car between bags of lavash bread and daffodils and coconut milk ice cream slowly defrosting. The sticker on your sweater, given to you by the fatherly cashier, gradually un-peels as you pick at it again and again. You are so curious now. I have to stay your grabby hands in the grocery store, and in the kitchen, and when I carry you past anything interesting anywhere. Tonight I saw the first gleam of true perseverance in your eyes as you determinedly reached for the rails of the crib from where you sat, arm's length away on your bedroom floor. You grasped the bars tightly and pulled yourself up until you stood. And when you looked up to me, you smiled so proudly and began to bounce with unadulterated triumph. May this be the first of a hundred thousand hard-earned joys.

February 25, 2015