Part of me wants this time to go faster, to stream through so that we can watch you grow & learn. But a much bigger part of me is terrified of letting this era slip through my fingers. Because there will come a day when your hands won't be so little, they will grow, you will put your hand against mine, and they will be mirror images of each other. Sometimes, when you're asleep, and it's just Chris and I again, in our tiny old kitchen, cooking, it feels like life is still the same. We carry on the same as before, we chat about work, our friends, our plans for the future, all our ideas and projects. But then I think about the three of us, bundled up in bed together, the afternoon sun turning our eyelashes gold, & I can no longer remember what life was like before you came.
Everything else does sort of just, fall away.