Dear Morris,

Happy one month, little Morris. This month you exited a human body, conquered a lung infection, lived through a global pandemic, met both of your grandparents, learned to lift your head and grab (and pull) mom’s hair, shed your first tear, and developed a shrill, teradactyl-like scream to keep mom and dad in line. You love bath time, when mom and dad sing, and are completely fascinated with lights and shadows, stubbornly preferring to gaze around you with big, wide eyes on your feet, not back.

At 11 lbs, it’s no surprise that you like to eat. You seemingly become an animal, grunting and snorting as you search for your human milk machine, leaving mom and dad laughing every day. Your eyes are dark, tempting us with wonder about what color they will someday be and your hair is light, growing by the day. As you adapt to life outside of mama’s warm belly, your skin has reacted with lots of little red dots and your scalp with some dry skin. You are the most beautiful little human. Your favorite spot to sleep is right in our arms or on our chest; you’d stay there all day long if you could. Well actually, you do stay there all day long and we love every moment.

We love your little smirk, how you have to be touching one of us at all times, and your adorable little coos as you start to chat. Really, we’re just obsessed with you (and maybe a little sleep deprived) and love you, endlessly.

Love,

Mama

Love,

Mama