Life Just Outside The 617

OCTOBER 5, 2021 – TUESDAY MORNING – DAY THREE

The night ... well, the early morning hours ... had ended in this fragile pocket of peace, the kind that almost convinces you the chaos is over. Chris had padded past the windows with Bella tucked against his chest, her tiny face pressed into him, needing that steady beat of his heart more than anything else. He pulled back the curtains and tilted her just enough so her sleepy eyes could catch the faintest glow in the sky.

"There's the moon, sweetheart ..." he whispered, his voice like velvet in the dark. "A crescent tonight ... it's smiling just for you."

I'd watched from the bed, half-awake, half-dreaming, as he shared his favorite thing in the world with our brand-new little one. Daddy's love of space ... passed down from day one, before she could even hold her head up, before she could even understand a word of it. And yet, he was already giving her the universe above us.

But of course, the morning came anyway. The birds outside were chirping ... something you'd normally think was soothing. Not this morning. No, today they were like little trumpets blaring outside the window, announcing the cruel arrival of daylight after what felt like thirty seconds of sleep.

And the brightness. Why did it feel like a spotlight had been angled right into my eyes? I groaned and squinted against it, silently cursing whoever invented the sun, only to realize the culprit wasn't the universe itself ... it was Chris.

By 6:45, the first streaks of sunlight slipped through the bedroom windows, proof that he had never closed the blinds again after that sweet little astronomy lesson. Lovely for Bella's first look at the crescent moon, not so lovely for my pounding eyelids.

Before I could even nudge him about it, Bella snuffled in her bassinet ... perfect timing, like she knew it was her cue. And just like that, any slim chance of falling back into the bliss of sleep vanished. Morning had claimed us.

We'd put her in one of the newer swaddles after her last diaper change, the kind with velcro straps that kept her snug as a bug with zero chance of pulling another Houdini act. She wriggled, made a soft little sound, and just like that, the curtain was rising on a brand-new day. The real show came when Chris undid the swaddle ... those tiny arms shot straight up, fingers splaying wide, while her legs stretched long as if she were reaching for both ends of the world at once. She arched her back with a determination that made her look very pleased with herself, like she'd just conquered Everest instead of escaping a blanket. Chris and I exchanged a look that was equal parts laughter and awe ... because honestly, it was the cutest stretch in the history of stretches.

By the time 7:30 AM rolled around, the television was humming in the background ... Boston morning anchors chirping about weather systems moving in off the coast. We weren't going anywhere, but still, it was comforting to hear the rhythm of a normal day outside our four walls. Then came the sports segment.

"...the Bruins dropped one last night 50 seconds into overtime to the Flyers, 2 to 1." WBZ's Dan Roche informed the morning viewers.

I groaned, head falling back against the couch. "Overtime? Seriously? They couldn't hang on for five more minutes?"

Really guys, it's pre-season ... you're fighting to stay up in Boston with the team and not get sent back down to Providence. Or worse, shipped out of Boston to some other team.

Chris smirked from the kitchen, where he was moving around like a man determined to ignore his exhaustion. "Maybe some of the guys on the Bruins have newborns at home too? And were exhausted when they showed up at the Garden? Easy prey for the Flyers."

"That's so not funny ... " I muttered, though the corner of my mouth betrayed me with a smile.

He returned a few minutes later with plates ...scrambled eggs, avocado toast, and slices of apple. Nothing fancy, but surprisingly healthy for a man who once used to consider Froot Loops a food group at one point in his life.