I was thinking of my daughter all day, remembered the first days and weeks of exhaustion and chaos, mixed with moments of joy and wonder. She told me that Robin is waking up every hour, looking to be fed. She said her first day home with her new daughter she felt like they had gotten hit by a freight train, but in a good way.

I know what she meant. In two days, I will head to New York City with Maria, I’ll get a look for myself at this new arrival in my life, this granddaughter. She looks to be the essence of peaceful, but I know better. That piercing cry, coming day and night.

Emma estimates she’s had about six hours or sleep in four days, we won’t be staying long, but maybe we’ll be able to help. We’re coming and going in the same day.

I’m great at changing diapers and if it isn’t too soon, will love to take Robin out for a stroll. I’m bring two cameras and two lenses, if I can get the first fine portrait taken of Robin, that will be a contribution that will make me happy. I’m told her hand is blond.