Dear Samory

You are 8 1/2 weeks old, and I haven't been away from you for more than a few hours.  For the past eight and half weeks, we've spent the days learning one another.  I've learned exactly how your eyelids flicker and your perfect little mouth puckers up just before waking, I've learned what cry means you're hungry and what cry means you're tired and that little yelp that you sometimes make just before smiling that precious gummy grin of yours.  When the weather's been nice, we've gone on walks through town and you'll crane your face up towards the sun and squint your eyes--which have officially turned a perfect, chocolaty brown.  Mostly, though, we've stayed in the house-shipwrecked on the bed or the couch-lost in a sea of blankets and pillows.  Mostly, I spend my time just staring at you and taking you in.  I love tucking my nose in the crane of your neck and just breathing you in.  I love memorizing your every little noise as you sleep-and you make a LOT of noise when you sleep.  You're always humming or moaning or sighing in your sleep, and I just can't get enough of you. 

Baby Boy, you are so loved.

Love,

Your Mama