Today, Quinton....

It seems like only yesterday that we carefully drove home through a blizzardy winter evening for the first time. You were all bundled up like a perfect delicate package. Tucked inside that hand knit sweater was one shriveled little baby with all ten fingers and ten toes. All we could do was stare in amazement and dream of what you would become. Who would our new little creature turn out to be?

Today, Quinton, you turn six months old. You have come so far in a matter of moments. We see glimmers of who you are becoming. Those moments take hold of us, like the wind being taken from our lungs. They glimmer with hope and joy. Today, you squeal in laughter as Brutus and Daphne pass your outreached arms. Today, you cry out of frustration because you cannot do all the things your mind tells your tiny little body to do. Today is the one time in your life where you can relish in the fact that you are completely dependent and yet you strive to be independent. We see you roll to get where you need to go, drink from a cup, communicate through babbling. Today, you do not know anger. Instead when you don't know what else to express, you show us love. You reach your tender little hands out to our face and lay a bit wet one on our lips - to our delight. Today, you study the most mundane with such curiosity. In the same turn, you become a clown and make everyone in the room laugh. Today, you bring joy to all who see your smile and laughter. Today, you take solstice in my arms and in your father's voice. Today, you have grown to be nearly 17 pounds and 26 inches long. Today, we have a better idea of who you are becoming. Today, we wait to see what other surprises you have in store.


Our family's strength and love grow every day. Today, we love you, but not as much as we will tomorrow.