I’ve already packed two boxes of clothes up for Miss C3… for the chick who lived in her newborn onesies into the third week, the irony that she is now in six month onesies (at two months old) is not lost on me. My daughter is growing like a weed. By my estimation, she’s nearly 14 lbs and more than 24 inches. She’s a giant.
And she’s not the only one who’s growing. Both K and I have stretched and grown in ways we could not even have anticipated. Watching my husband with my daughter is mind blowing. It’s not that he’s just sweet (which he is), or that he’s so tender (ditto), or that he plays with such good open heartedness (again, he does)… it’s watching him morph into this entire “other” being. He’s a dad. He’s my daughter’s daddy.
Having been close to my father, it’s a relationship I understand. Or, thought I understood… I’m not doing a very eloquent job of describing how I see my husband. I’m going to blame a round of cluster feeding and a looooong day of work on that. Instead, I’m going to post some pictures that show how delightful I find their relationship.
I knew I’d enjoy seeing my daughter grow. I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d enjoy seeing my mate grow into his new life too.