I have a new motivation to write again. Well, motivation was there, but now I have a reason: so one day you can read the story of your life. I am already narrating your life with pictures in Persian, and I have no clue what you'll think about it later. As of now, I have no plan to force on you a formal education to read and write in Persian. But maybe you can read this later, assuming I continue to write. There has always been my long-lost dream of writing better in English. Did you know I would imagine my future as a writer? Then I migrated, and many dreams died to give room for new ones. Why write in public? Not sure. I doubt anyone reads this blog anymore, and even if they do, they will choose to read it in English. But again, I have never written anywhere else.
You are seven months and a few days now; we are in Iran, and you are now used to your grandparents. You smile to everyone and never complain, and we keep telling people that even though you look like me to the eye, you are a copy of your mom when it comes to what matters: your personality. You are the heart of every party we go to, and people are mesmerized by how little you complaine and how happy you are always. Then, they tell us something we know very well: that we are blessed.