Dear Gracie

Oh the things we will do to entertain you. I have danced a jig for your amusement, I speak gibberish at high octaves just to see you smile, and I sing now more than I ever did when you weren't around. Your mother will sound like a crazy woman as she does whatever is needed to get you to smile and I hear her reading to you and I just laugh. To hear a grown woman read "One Berry, Two Berry, pick me a Blueberry" from another room is such a silly thing to hear.

You have a pensive stare that has intrigued us. You stare at the ceiling fans and especially at "your pictures". That group of frames that resides above the sofa has been our saving grace in times when you won't calm down. We still marvel at how you can be so engrossed in them.

I had you resting on my legs, facing "your pictures" and was singing you a ridiculous song that I was making up. It didn't rhyme, which bothers me to no end, but you were enjoying it. It was clear you were tired and slowly my song was putting you to sleep. Your eyes closed and I stopped singing because I assumed you were out, but resting on my legs you let your eyes peek open and you made a slight "huhn" to let me know I needed to continue.

So I did. I made up more verses to the ridiculous picture song and you kept looking at me through those little slits. I would stop and you would smile and "huhn" again for me to continue. It was one of those moments that made me smile.

Love,

Your Father