You’re a little over six month’s old as I write this. Here’s the morning routine in the Frymire household these days:

I wake up around six in the morning. I take Jessica downstairs for her morning constitutional, then I have some “me” time – journaling, meditating, learning a new language. I’ll eat some breakfast. Then I eventually check work e-mails, and figure out if there’s any client needs I need to immediately address.

Sometime around seven, that’s when you start stirring. You babble. You play with sounds. You’re trying to find words. This morning, it sounded distinctly like you said, “Dad”, but I know that’s just hopeful thinking on my part. When I come into the bedroom and look at you in your crib, you’re almost always on your stomach, pressing up, looking around, and when you see me, you give me big smile. I’ll pick you up out of your crib, and sometimes sing the opening lines of “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” from “Oklahoma”.

There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow…there’s a bright golden haze on the meadow…

And I open the blinds to let the sun in while I sing.

This is so incredibly dorky, and one day I’m sure you’ll come to be annoyed by it, but for now, it makes you smile.

By the time I’m done singing, your mom is sitting up and getting ready to nurse you. I’ll go off and start getting ready for the day, and then a few minutes later I’ll come back, and all four of us (Jessica Jones too) will snuggle on the bed together, you the center of all the attention. We all lay together for maybe five, ten minutes, and then it’s time to start the day.

***

These few minutes we have together every morning have become the highlight of my day. We have other good moments during the day, of course, but these mornings in particular are some of most precious times I’ll look back on.

You’re taking a nap as I write this now. I’m watching you on the baby monitor, and you’re starting to stir awake. We’re all about to go grocery shopping, and enjoy this Sunday weather.

Whenever and wherever you’re reading this, I love you, kid.

Your Dad