Wide Open

Tate has entered a new stage of babyhood. This is the stage that most babies are born into, but that Tate altogether skipped during his early frantic months that were instead filled with writhing, screeching, arching, howling -- defying all expectations of what newborns are supposed to do.

(Apparently, they sleep. What??)

He has entered the stage of cuddling, and it is bliss. He has never let me truly hold him until now. I mean "hold" in the sense that his body goes limp, his head rests heavy against my shoulder, his little hand wraps around my neck, and he just drifts off to la-la-land.

Perhaps in his maturity he has become more, not less, dependent on me to soothe him, but for now I am eating it up. I know that this stage will soon pass and he will be too busy running or digging or splashing to just let me hold him, so I am savoring every second of it. Right now, he is wide open to me and to the world - arms, eyes and heart.