Happy Baby black and white

Hank’s Half

The other night Hank went to sleep and woke up the next morning closer to his first birthday that he was to the day he was born. It’s been a whole beautiful, crisp autumn and an entire dark, frigid winter. Still, it’s clear nothing pays better testament to time’s unforgiving metronome than a baby. The speed at which they go from brand new to someone all their own is astonishing, even with our third as it was with our first.

He’s my kid so obviously he lives to eat. His fondness for food, especially peas and scrambled eggs, is surpassed only for his love of the boob. When he wants it he calls me by name and snuggles me close and holds my hand. In those moments I understand that regardless of the ambling heartache that led me to him, and him to me, the universe has shown me a great kindness in making me his mama.

In many ways, Hank is the amalgamation of both of his siblings. When this boy was born he was Indy’s twin but now he looks a lot like Harper did at this point in her first year. Easy-going and calm, his demeanor is much like his sister but his ambition rivals that of his record-breaking brother.

He’s speed crawling, cruising the couch and getting more daring with each passing moment. Unfortunately, he also has a special talent for falling face first into every single Duplo in our house and the thunk of his head connecting with our wood floors is all too common. Still, nothing stops him. I see an Indy-like brazenness growing in him as his strength increases and his dexterity continues to sharpen.

It’s bittersweet, to watch him grow. He’s long and tips the scale to nearly 20 pounds. Healthy and by all measures, an easy baby. Still, each inch and ounce and newfound ability takes him a little farther from the baby he was just a few months ago.

Happy Half Birthday, Hank. From chicken legs to thunder thighs, gummy grins to sharp little teeth, newborn squeaks to belly laughs. From two babies to three. You’ve healed so many heartaches. We love you so.



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