On sweet/difficult days.

Mr. No Hair
Look at that little bald head.

I wake up every morning, walk down the hall to his crib, peer over the railing, whisper “Good morning, handsome” to him, watch him smile at me in reply, and scoop him up into my arms.

Then I kiss his little bald head.

When I lay him down on the couch or our bed so I can prepare myself to nurse him, I look at his sweet face and hold one-sided conversations with him: “Why hello, good-looking! What’s on the agenda today?” I pick him up and get him ready to fill his belly.

Then I rub his little bald head.

I strip him down to get ready for bathtime: onesie off, diaper off, bath water running at a comfortable lukewarm. I stick him in his whale-shaped bathtub and sing softly to him while I’m cleaning his itty bitty body.

Then I scrub his little bald head.

When he is at his grouchiest, his grumpiest, his bitchiest…I sigh loudly, speak to him calmly, let him know that I hear him and want to help him.

Then I pat his little bald head.

When it’s nighttime and I am preparing him for bed, I go through the whole routine…diaper change. Check. Food prepared. Check. Pajamas on. Check.

I cradle him in my arms, sometimes so tightly that I think I might hurt him accidentally. I whisper to him how much I love him. I tell him I will always be around to watch him grow into an amazing man.


I kiss his little bald head.