Another morning breaks as spring shows her face. It is quiet here. Very quiet. I better go and check to be sure. Yup, everything is fine. Just the lull before the day gets started. The tick, ticking of a diaper filling and a belly emptying. It is the measure of time that has replaced a watch for me. Looking out over the square full of sun and empty of parents with their children I feel the last few years peeking in to check on the progress.

Jackets still worn but soon to be hidden away until next year. The green of the trees lit by the morning sun. Little things that mark just far I have traveled...

In a little less than two weeks it will be two years since I first set foot on Greek soil. Since the first time I met my wife and we began walking together without even knowing we were doing so. That took some time after to really sink in. After all, it is impossible to know where the future will lead you. But it was spring and this is the time for new growth. After all, you don't always know the color of the new flowers that come up along the road until those petals unfurl.

This seems to apply even more for our son...

Each time I sit to write how quiet it is the volume changes. Then the kid needs to be changed. And fed. It is the turbulent weather of spring personified. Calm and warm one moment, stormy and cool the next. The changes come without warning, usually at about three in the morning. When a well fed kid decides sleep is for the weak. Yeah, some nights are kind of like that. So I sit again thinking of spring, tempting fate by talking about how quiet it is at the moment.

Waiting for the next storm...

Such is the way of growth, of the spring. Each time something new with burst forth, it has to burst out. Not exactly without some growing pains. I think this is what we are living through now, this sudden growth. James has become impossible to guess at the moment. His last weigh-in put him up an astounding 45 grams per day. Even making the assumption that he could have been a bit "extra full" this is still considerably above his 30 per of the last few weeks. It does seem to coincide with his insatiable appetite and grouchiness.

Let's just chalk it up to spring...

One nice thing though, he is almost ready to be able to leave the house on nice days. To go down to the square where his mommy played as a child. It is different now of course. The playground no longer has stones to run across but instead the safety matting. The trees are much bigger. The statues have been worn down low by countless little hands rubbing along the surface as they pass. It is those smooth surfaces that speak about the passage of time.

Very soon the hands of my boy will contribute to that passing...

Looking at those markings, realizing the soft hands that made them really drives home just how much impact those little ones have. We see them as soft and fragile yet, they are able to leave such impressions. They are the spring runoffs that can carve their way into a mountain over time. It is not just the surfaces that they touch, but the lives.

How many along the way will be affected?

So our little bit of spring is gathering strength for his next storm. Nearly silent as he does but when it is your little one, you know. All to well do you know how those winds can suddenly shift and you will drop everything you are doing to tend to that storm. To temper it with experience and kindness. To help those hard edges soften and flex with anything that comes along. For now though, for them, everything is a storm.

I'm good with that, just a bit tired...

That first time we are out with James in a stroller showing him that his world is much larger than he can yet know will be exciting. To see his eyes dart from place to place. To watch him reaching for things that are brand new. To pry something out of his mouth before he can swallow it. Yeah, so much road yet to travel.

Such is parenthood...