The stuff I miss most

I love everything about him.  I miss it all.  I miss the way he smells.  I miss his drooley lips.  I miss his edible cheeks.  I miss the way his ears stick out a little.  I miss the dimple on his right cheek.  I miss the birthmark (exactly like his father's) on the back of his head (where his head meets his neck).  I miss the way he chews on his hands.  I miss clipping his tiny fingernails while he is in the bath.  I miss his big beautiful eyes (blue with one corner of brown).  I miss his beaming smile all day long.  I miss changing his diapers.  I miss singing to him.  I miss nursing him, both of us quiet, cuddling together and sharing a peaceful moment.  I miss making baby food.  I miss feeding him.  I miss watching him sleep on his monitor.  I miss watching him sleep in his swing.  I miss watching him watch the mobile on his swing.  I miss reading Baby 411.  I miss holding him in my arms.  I miss him sitting in my lap.  I miss reading to him.  I miss dancing with him in our living room.  I miss picking him up at daycare.  I miss hearing about what he did that day.  I miss missing him all day at work.  I miss wondering what kind of a boy he will grow into.  I miss his expressive eyebrows.  I miss trying to make him laugh.  I miss singing, "Maxie Moo Moo!  Maxie Moo!".  I miss being a mommy.  I miss being his mommy.  I miss feeling like the luckiest woman alive.  I miss the part under his chin, where his skin is so soft.  I miss his perfect belly button.  I miss his tiny feet.  I miss watching his face light up when he sees me.  I miss my own face lighting up when I see him.  I miss the way he makes me feel every minute of every day.  I miss being happy.  I miss being me.  I MISS MY MAX.