gray skies smiling at me

i woke up this morning to a beautiful landscape of grays.

out the window beyond our gray drapes lay heavy gray skies, bent low to kiss the cold, gray buildings deeply rooted in murky, gray concrete.

in his gray and white crib, my huckleberry grunted and kicked against his tight swaddling, as the dogs yawned and brandon rolled over and i pulled off the heavy covers and fought through the gray haze of sleep to find my squirmy little chub of a baby.

i pondered the day ahead as i lifted my gray shirt so henry could suck furiously with his eyes shut tight. i pointed my toes hard and thought about what a cold diet coke could do for my disposition, and whether the rain would clear up in time for an afternoon walk.

as is the case on dreary january days, the rain never stops, and the dogs come inside from their walks all wet and excitable, the husband leaves for class with his black umbrella in hand, and the two of us make our way to the couch to watch the fat gray drops fall against dark red brick.

tiny apartments turn to suffocation on bright, sunny days, but when the gray descends my cramped quarters are right cozy. i can honestly think of nothing better than a day spent humming to a baby and singing to a baby and maybe also cooking up a hefty bowl of oatmeal and eating it as fast as possible. on gray days like today, you get to make your own sunshine, is i suppose what i am saying.

luckily, when it comes to sunshine, i've got it covered.