You are the light of our lives: this morning I was reminded of that fact
in such a beautiful way.
Everyone in Minneapolis was charmed by you, Orion:
your smiles are infectious, your laughter and coos just as much so
and your evening fuss has become adorable and nuanced:
you have a language for your complaints just as you do for your joys.
When you are hungry and no boob is forthcoming you say, "Iiing Iiing Iiing" in a very conversational way, trilling up and down the range of your new voice
showing your gums
until you're fed.
I liken you to a grumpy old man at a town hall meeting, complaining about the stop sign on Grant;
"And another thing!!...."
until you fall asleep in your soup at Denny's.
I kiss your forehead right where your temple makes an indent.
It gives as only young skin can,
like spongecake under my lips.
Two flights under your belt now and you are a champion
mostly sleepy from the white noise of the plane's engine, ears unbothered by the rise and descent
eating and napping in my arms
getting diaper changes 31,000 feet above the earth, all smiles while we sweat
with the fearful trembling of the New Parent...
Tiny Tatey, we love you beyond love:
thank you for choosing us
Mama the happy Nomulan Milk Slave