It seems like every evening, K and I look at each other and one of us says, “It is so good.”
This whole parenthood is just so smashingly wonderful. Even when it’s exhausting, it’s just so amazingly good. I know I’m like a broken record – believe me, I had no idea I’d gush this much. I thought I’d be one of those cool moms who only posts on facebook once a month about their kid, who never ever blogged about poop, and was able to leave the child with a caretaker at week four. I’m totally not a cool mom. I manage to keep it together a little bit, but it’s so SQUEE!!1!1! in my life that I cannot make myself stop. Coolness be damned.
One night a week, I’m home alone with my daughter while K has a lawyers-only meeting. It’s those nights – when it’s just the two of us – that the blessed feeling of being a part of C3’s life washes over me. I was holding her last night, but not paying nearly as much attention as she wanted me to (what? I was catching up on RHONY). I turned back to face her and she had this total scowl on her face, complete with a pout and crinkled eyebrows. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh, and immediately she smiled and giggled back at me. How can I focus on anything else? What in the world is more important than paying attention to those chubby cheeks?
My boss, a father to FIVE boys, described the sensation perfectly. He told me that it was delicious to see the world through the eyes of your child. It is – it’s delicious. Watching her grow, explore, and attempt new things absolutely blows my mind. She’s a genius! She’s a diva! She’s braver than Amelia Earhart! As we approach the 11-week mark, I see more and more of this person emerge. Yeah, I get why people have babies.