you love
having your forehead
lightly brushed with kisses
and we love breathing you in

you smell
sweet and slight
you fill the room with your scent
after each lovely, long nap
it is the smell of contentment
and addictive as opium

it is, ultimately, the reason mommy and daddy
forgive you
after hours and hours of screaming blue murder
until you are hoarse

that, and your involuntary
gurgle of laughter
and your smiles
melt even the most the stern and sleep-deprived heart
even though we’ve been told
it’s just gas
not love

you’ve turned mothers
into every grand cliche about
just by folding your hands
and sighing

you stare
and stare
and stare
at Mr and Mrs Owl on the wall
behind the chair
in which you feed
day and night and midnight and twilight

you hate being swaddled

you will work your way out of your
blankets and covers
and with a loud “Hai… YAH!”
you free both arms
before you finally fall asleep
spread eagle
or resembling a plucked chicken
depending on what you’re wearing

you hate having your head covered
and it’s taken mommy
exactly 4 weeks
to work out how to put on a singlet
without incurring
the wrath of baby

you absolutely abhor
the bouncy net
but you fall watchful and
as soon as you are placed
in a car seat
because you know we’re
going places

social butterfly, you

sleep through noise and crowds
which means
lots of walking around
shopping malls
which means
the church
has never seen your eyes open
which means
you sleep through
worship and bible class
thus sparing mommy the slight agony
of feeding you in the back room
in winter
where it’s freezing
you gorgeous child

you sticky beak
you oompa loompa
you sweetie pie

demon child


my funny valentine

you make me smile with my heart
and take pictures twenty times a day
and fall in love more deeply
with you and your father
every day

as if it were possible
but it is