You’ve been alive now for 644 days, and this morning I fell in love with you for the 644th time.
I rolled quietly out of bed so I wouldn’t disturb you where you were lying next to me and slipped through the door.  I walked silently from room to room, collecting the trash we needed to set out on the curb for the “big truck” to pick up. When I came upstairs from gathering the recycling, I heard you yell, “mommy!” You didn’t know mommy was off at the gym, and I crept to our bedroom and slowly opened our door, pushing my head through the widening crack until our eyes met.
There you were, sitting up, smiling, your eyes wide and expectant. Your smile didn’t diminish at all when you saw it was me and not your mommy. You bounced a little on your knees and brushed your beautiful hair away from your face. You said, “Eggs!”
Someday, when you grow up, you will know what it feels like to have your whole body filled from top to bottom with a love that catches you at random moments and causes a hitch in your breath. Know that this is the love your mommy and I have for you, and it grows with each day. It starts in our hearts and runs through our tummies and arms and legs down through our hands and feet to the tips of our fingers and toes. When we rub your back at night as you fall asleep in your crib, it’s the warmth you feel on your skin. It will never go away.
Love,
Daddy