OK, I'll stop with the baby talk since the kid doesn't even belong to me but I can't resist a few more photos from my trip to meet him. I don't know if he has any idea how many people love him but I'm afraid the guy will never learn to walk since he pretty much spends his days being passed around by a mob of relatives.
I knew I loved him the day he was born but now that I've held him and smelled his little neck and giggled at the spindliness of his legs and wondered if he's going to swim like his uncle or bike like his dad or throw a baseball like his momma, if his eyes will be Clifford or Archuletta, he is real. I looked through my photos in the cab last night and got the kind of weepy homesick that makes me feel like I'm a freshman in college again. He's going to be smiling soon and I can't believe I'm not going to see it. He'll grow out of his Tom Waits onesies and into his Tretorn tennies before I get to whisper secrets in his baby ears about the stuff I'll let him do when he comes to visit me in a few years.
I know he's not the first baby ever born but he's our first and thus, he's our best. He's our favorite. He's the cutest. He's the snuggliest. He smells the best. Other littles will come along and we'll love them just as much and they'll get smothered in attention I'm sure. But Morgan, you will always be our first, the one we will all practice on. I'm really glad you picked us.
Great Grandma. (Please bless I look this good when I'm a great grandma)
mommy. glam mommy who wears earrings and lipstick and looks amazing three weeks after baby. Woot!
Broken Arm Auntie.
Aunt k8. Already planning his trips to come see me.