It came from the blue,
Not quite true,
For we had been scared a time or two to be true,
But now,
WOW,
Such a tiny "+" symbol can change so much.

You now rest in your Mama,
Just the size of a jellybean,
but our little Bam beano.
how you'll grow.

Will you love Harry Potter,
Star Wars,
both, neither?

In my dreams I see you playing the guitar,
but I'd be just as happy if you decided to play the bassoon,
to follow your dreams,
and love the journey for the beautiful chaos that it is.
To be foolish and terrifying,
because like Willi Carlisle says,
"It takes a certain kind of fool,
to make a difference in the world."

I imagine you being kind,
and these acts bring tears to my dilated eyes.

Speaking of eyes,
Will you have your mother's or my eyes?
Here entrancing green or my steely blue?
Will the world harden your eyes to what you see,
or will what you see soften you to what you can do?

Sweet child,
are you my daughter or my son?
Will you have me wrapped around your finger?
Or will you have me thinking of my own old man,
trying to not do what he failed in and copy what he had succeeded with.

I think of the future,
the danger,
the cost,
the sheer time.

God the time.

When you learn to drive, I'll be 44,
graduate with the class of 40 or 41.

My God the time.

We can't wait to meet you, my child,
Our sweet little bean,
Whether you're a Wyatt or an Ellise,
Just know that Mommy and Daddy love you,
and can't wait to show you the world,
with all in it to be seen.