One Month

Dear Will:

I’ve heard that when it comes to parenthood, the days (and nights) are long but the months and years are short.

As you turn a month old, I understand that completely.

It’s starting to feel like you’ve always been ours. Like you’ve always been part of me. Even though when we started this year, you weren’t even a glimmer in our eye.

You sleep like you’re lounging on a beach in St. Barts, you put up with Indiana’s kisses with remarkable grace and good humor and I know that every parent thinks their kid is a genius, but buddy - you are really good at lifting up your head and you seem to know exactly when we’re talking about you.

With the exception of your long legs, you don’t look a thing like me.

You are pretty much the spitting image of your daddy - blueish eyes and fair complexion - and I am certain that when we go out, people will assume that I am your nanny.

It’s only been a month and there are times when it’s been tough, but for the most part? You are a pretty chill kid and I hope this remains part of your personality.

I started reading to you in utero and we’ve continued that tradition. Yesterday, we read Grumpy Monkey by Suzanne Lang and Gus and Me by Theodora and Keith Richards.

Yes. That Keith Richards.

The day before that, Mommy was reading to you about Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis and Gram Parsons.

I’m hoping this will inspire you to tickle the ivories or learn how to play guitar and not actually emulate any of these guys because holy shit, they were a wreck when it came to addiction, mental health and interpersonal relationships.

We’ve been listening to a lot of Surfaces lately and there’s a line in Take It Easy that makes me think of us and the hope I have for our family - “Your life is sweet like Minute Maid.”

It’s a corny line but it makes me think of how good your life will be growing up in South Florida.

I didn’t grow up in the sunshine, but I’m so glad that you will.

You’ll spend sun-splashed afternoons playing in the yard with the dogs and you’ll learn how to swim underneath palm trees.

We’ll wake up early, go to the dog beach and then, get bestbestbest huevos rancheros for breakfast.

We’ll pick mangoes, avocados and coconuts on our walks through the neighborhood and we’ll go on empanada runs and grab fresh tropical fruit juice and batidos at excellent Cuban joints.

You’ll get tan and hopefully, start to look more like me.

We’ll see so much of this state - feeding tarpon in Islamorada, sailing at sunset in Sanibel, flying broomsticks and the Millennium Falcon in Orlando and chomping at the Swamp with Daddy and Sarika Masi.

Happy one month, Will.

It only gets better from here.

We love you.

xx

Mama