happy morning

At around 6:00 this morning, I heard the familiar sound of the key in the door, the creak of wood on wood as it opened. My heart smiled bigger than it has for days because I knew Steve was home from his three-day business trip. I managed OK while he was gone, though. I missed him a lot, but family and friends made sure someone was with me around the clock — even helping with Ben when he needed to be fed in the middle of the night. It was good for Daniel to spend all that time bonding with his aunts, too.

I know Daniel was happy to see his daddy, too. We'd had a couple of moments in the middle of the night where he woke up and sobbed for him for long minutes before falling back to sleep.

Last night, as he was falling asleep next to me, out of the blue he said, "Mama?"

"Yes, honey," I said.

"I'm sorry," he said in his sweet, clear little sing-song voice. His r's still sound like w's.

My heart just about broke. What does one say? "You don't have to be sorry," I said. "Mommy loves you so much. Daddy loves you, too."

"Mommy sad," he said. "Daddy sad."

He is so sensitive. Just like his mother. (And his father, for that matter.) I hope for his sake that he doesn't take on my tendency to carry the weight of other people's sorrow. But moments like that make me think he may.

He's also very silly. And skinny. See?