between the salt water and the sea strand

Here are the days of sandy toes and little faces slathered in white sunscreen. It's summertime in South Florida, made loud, clear and apparent by the smell of heat rising off the pavement that hits you when you walk out your front door.

Today was a beach day, the first in some time. Ethan loves to watch the waves -- which today were extremely rough and loud -- cautiously watching as the water trickles up to his toes. The same feeling of adoration he has for the crashing waves, I have for watching him examine his surroundings the way that he does, so full of curiosity and caution and wonder. These days, everything is dat (that) or dis (this), words he utters constantly throughout the day while pointing his finger in the direction of the object in question.

We are fully submerged in June in South Florida. The days end with long, warm baths, scrubbing the slimy sunscreen off of impatient little limbs. The hum of the air conditioner lulls me to sleep at night as even at nighttime, it feels like 85 degrees. Despite the sticky heat and the disturbingly quenching smell of chlorinated pool water on the air, June means more than just summertime. It means Ethan's birthday month. It means counting down the days until he is one.

And suddenly it is me filled with wonder, trying desperately to figure out how an entire year has nearly passed since the moment Ethan came screaming into this world.