I had a dream about David last night.

In the dream I'm watching him in a blue jumper standing with his hands against a wall supporting himself since he wasn't strong enough to walk. The wall is the bottom part of a stage and the observing me is sitting in the front row. Then I see myself scooping up him and sitting in the same seat that the observing me is sitting in, thus moulding the two selves together. I feel the weight of the baby in my lap. A wonderful weight, heavy, warm and full of life, his head against my chest, turning as he takes in the scene on the stage. He's calm and content, safe in my arms, I'm also calm and content, feeling protective.

He would be about 2.5 months old now, not old enough to be standing. In the dream he was about 4-5 month old. Still not old enough to be standing, but that was his size.

From baby to babe, Firestone James had nothing but smiles for me when I came in this afternoon for new shocks. I told him I was taking a road trip and to do basic check of stuff and to check out the popping noise that I'm hearing. When I picked it up he smiled and said, "Have a good trip." With those baby blues to think about while I'm driving past the winter wheat, you know I will, handsome.