First Father's Day

Baby, whom we thought was immune to such things, has her first cold. Whether brought on by allergies, teething, a combination of the two, or something else entirely, she is in the throes of it – with a fever and an amazingly productive nose. Given how uncomfortable she seems to be, her disposition is sunnier than mine would be, singing and talking as much as she ever has. She and her mom made me strawberry pancakes for Father’s Day and it was wonderful to be at the breakfast table with them.

Time to Go to Bed

When I left on Friday morning, baby gave me the first honest-to-God hug she has given me. Between that moment and when I arrived home twenty minutes ago, I thought of her hug eighty or a hundred times. Besides being impressed that she could decipher that I was going to be away from the house longer than normal, I was struck by the strength of baby’s personhood. She is capable of intentionality in a way I did not anticipate. That I get to celebrate Father’s Day with her when the sun comes up in the morning is good enough reason to go to sleep now.