I haven’t written a longer-form “Dear Henry” post in awhile, but I did want to capture what it’s like to have a 7 month old.
In a word, delightful.
Despite the still-not-sleeping-great, despite the fact David and I haven’t been out together since prior to Henry’s birth, and despite the fact I saw not one of the Oscar movies this year… it’s still delightful.
This is a wonderful age–Henry is happy and snuggly and loves nothing more to ride around perched on our hips. He’s laughing and babbling and sweet-natured, and everything is fascinating to him–from light switches to forks to junk mail.
And oh my god, his face when he sees us—it just lights up. We are his sun and his moon, and the great love of his life. But if we’re his sun and moon, our little son is our entire universe. He enfolds us and envelopes us and holds our hearts in his chubby little fist. And everytime he smiles at me — even after seven months — it still makes me catch my breath.














