The other morning we went to the beach before anyone was awake. Out in the water I could smell burning toast.
You were moving around as we rode waves and I cheered for you and the wave that was carrying us. When we were sitting waiting for other ones, I pictured you learning to swim someday and I imagined me looking at your face and telling you that you already knew how to swim once because you swam around my tummy, you'd just have to remember how.
We also spent some time looking at the sky thinking about Maureen and asking her questions like "Was it always going to be this way?".
Everyone tells me "good luck with your new baby" and sometimes I think, I guess that's all they can say, but I think we'll figure it out. I guess that's all I can say too.
When we get out of the ocean, I tell you it's ok to leave even when you still want more. I think Maureen feels that now too. And when we get home we burn some toast too.