Wonder In Aliceland

The days are a blur.

We are up with her at dawn, our eyes hardly open, gulping coffee to wake ourselves, then feeding and rocking her. 

In the afternoon, we laugh at her funny faces, or call her Sugar Monkey, a nickname we gave her right after she was born. We look at one another, helpless, when we can't soothe her crying. We pull her socks up over her tiny red heels again and again and swaddle her to make sure she's warm. 

If we're not too tired, we'll give her a bath and afterwards, attempt to comb her fine dark hair into a baby mohawk. 

Late at night, we sing her to sleep, then fall into bed and whisper to each other across the rumpled sheets: "I love you. We're doing okay. We're doing okay."