Smiling

Dear Libby Lee:

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and I sure hope so -- because I take a lot of pictures and write somewhat fewer words.

Granted, not everybody may be surprised by this but -- you're growing up. It's crazy how you're growing up. Nearly six months we've had you around. What a treasure. I'm regularly dumbfounded by your buoyant spirits -- and whenever in doubt, I'm reminded by the delight when you encounter ... well, pretty much anybody.

You are just such a happy baby. I wish that for you throughout your life. But -- in case of glum times -- here are some things you should know: You smile at strangers, without hesitation, without reservation.

I've rarely seen you be scared or alarmed by anybody who professed a fondness for you.

On an occasion or two, while napping, I've known you to wake up to my gentle patting, smile at me, and languidly close your eyes again for some more rest.

These things are delirium for your mom and I.

The way -- when you were younger -- that you would crumple in with your smiles, your whole body squeezing in — before discovering that smiling could be contained to the face. The way now — when Mom holds you and you stare and me, and when I look back, you smile and cave into her, as if you've lost control of everything except your mouth.


For over five months now, we're just dazzled by you.