Discovery

I have less clandestine time to write about you while you sleep, as you are sleeping less during the day. You are more curious and interested in the world around you, wanting to play, desperate to explore. Your dad said you crawled today, but you didn't really - more sort of wriggle-wormed an inch or two.

But one discovery you most certainly made yesterday: while in the shower with your dad before bed, you discovered the toes on your right foot. Grabbed them, toyed with them, bent them around. Today when I got you dressed I didn't use footies, so you could be barefoot and spend some time thinking about your toes, if you are so inclined.

Your friend Peter was born on Tuesday, his due date, exactly 16 weeks after you. I have been fielding questions from his mother about sleep, and diapering, and all these things that I now know about. It's weird, that I now know these things. The most recent picture of Peter showed him in a terrycloth dinosaur onesie which you wore a time or two, which was a hand me down from Burl. I like the secret underground economy among mothers. The abhorrence of waste. Peter is sleeping in your co-sleeper too. One baby after another, arriving in a poof on earth, with mothers whispering secret knowledge to each other to ease your way.