Dear tiny son,
I loved how during the first few weeks of your life, whenever you were sleeping in your bassinett or stroller and then you woke up and one of us would pick you up, you would come out still cross-legged. Like a little floating buddha, floating up to the sky. And you were all squinty eyed, squinting at the light after a snooze. A squinting floating baby buddha.
I want to remember this, because it’s already finished. You’ve already stopped doing it. You’re getting to be a big boy, so I suppose your legs are heavier and it’s not such a reflex anymore.
Everything is going by so fast.