It started out all pink and wrinkled, or in your case, pretty yellow with jaundice. Then it was soft and flaky, adjusting to the air out in the real world. Around your tiny toes- red and peeling. And on top of your little knees it was full of folds when you lengthened out your spindly legs that, for a baby, seemed too long.
The skin you live in, that will accompany you through all of your days, after that wrinkly phase, started to fill out.
It got plump as you did, and stretched to fit around your squishy, squeezable thighs. And showed us signs of sitting in the sun too long (fair, like mama, any time is too long).
It’s gotten sticky with bandaids on your legs after shots, and on your little hand, where your IV was placed during your hospital stay.
The way it creases around your eyes, like Daddy’s, especially when you’ve just woken up.
The way it dimples in; one on your chin, and two more on your cheeks.
It’s smooth and soft when Mama rubs your back before bed, or when Daddy pats your belly to make you laugh.
On your cheeks, Daddy says, they’re his favorite, when it’s cold and wet.
And now that you’re insisting on growing and moving, it’s losing that softness around your knees and your elbows. That little bit of toughness, showing that you’re no longer brand new.
And with time it will toughen and wrinkle in a new way, in so many new ways. And Daddy and I will watch you change and grow and move in that same skin. That skin that I gave you, that I fell in love with the moment it warmed mine, when you were handed to me for the very first time, all pink and wrinkled.