Dear Evan –

It’s been months since I wrote last, and I apologize for that as always. I took a new job, as you might remember, and while I love what I do, the hours are long. Once a 10-hour day was unthinkable. Now it feels like I’m leaving early. Eleven or 12 is normal. I think about writing to you, though. Daily. Hourly sometimes.

You grow more every day. Most startling, most lovable, is your laugh. You smile when you see your mommy or me. Not just smile. You flat-out grin. You cackle when I get home and envelope you and your mommy in a family hug. You can go from tentative giggles to flat-out belly laughs when I swoop our faces near to each other, or when your mommy speaks Spanish or when I whistle.

You can’t crawl yet, but you’re close. You roll — always in motion — and prop up on your elbows and stare around open-mouthed. You reach for what you want.

You’re eating solid food. You loved whipped prunes and bananas and peas and carrots and squash. You aren’t fond of spinach yet, which makes me sad (though you love when I whistle the Popeye theme) and you aren’t fond of avocado, which makes your mommy sad. You’ll get there though.

I miss my time away from you and your mommy. I know the job lets me stop worrying about your future. It lets me have peace of mind that your mommy can devote time to her doctorate and to you. But it takes away from my time with you. I’ll do better.

I love you,

Daddy