Hugo’s site seems to grow in one-month increments… every day. We look up and another week has passed! Some moments are treacherous, others are (for lack of a better word) priceless. The smiles and stare-offs often lead to mental meanders about how brilliantly orchestrated our global existence has been. Three months down the line, I wonder why we couldn’t leave the hospital without watching videos about not shaking the baby; sometimes a mild shake is the only motion that leads him to sleep. I muse at the ergonomics that placed a nipple in the crux of an elbow—exactly where a baby with no sight can find a source for all its sustenance. Smiles are some of the first human facial expressions; we are all gifted with innate abilities to coax a meal from the sleepless. It’s too easy to take for granted until observed through the eyes of parents. The time has been sacred and the words are lacking!
Truly sweet words. Hugo is a lucky little mister. And cuter than shit too.
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