He really is. He gets pretty annoying at around 4:00pm every day when he won’t calm down and take a nap. But other than that, he’s so cute it’s just disgusting.
I think back to how terrified I was when I was pregnant, how I worried I wouldn’t like him, how I worried that every day looking after him would be positively hellish.
But even in the early days, in the nursing nightmare, when he would cry in the middle of the night, when I would wake up thinking, “Shit fuck motherfucker fuck shit!” but by the time I got to the crib- 15 feet away- I’d be eager to see his face again. And this was before smiling. Oh, the smiling and the laughing!
I’m not going to lie. There were many days early on when I would stand at the window and anxiously wait for my husband to appear at our corner, practically shoving the baby into his arms before he opened the front door. But these days, that doesn’t happen much. Maybe once or twice a week I will need to escape for an hour in the evenings but that often seems to coincide with a diaper bag obsession that needs to be quenched or a new lipgloss that my sister has recommended.
Really, it’s nauseating. I never thought I’d be this sappy.
I talked to a former colleague of mine who asked if I was tired of changing diapers yet. The answer is, “Fuck, no!”
Baby is extra-special-cute when getting his diaper changed. He smiles in gratitude. He kicks his legs playfully. He lifts them up obligingly, helping you fit the diaper under his ass. He laughs when I sing my random diaper-changing jingles: “Freshening up your scrotum…with a wipe!”, “Nothing says love like a clean…scrotum!”, (ok, I can’t take credit; that one is my husband’s creation), and, “Pants…YEAH!” (sung only when attempting to put pants back on), and finally “Fingers are amazing!” (sung while wiggling fingers at him- not exclusive to the changing table).
Baby has a new thing: when I’m about to pick him up, I swear he lifts his forearms. I try to encourage that by raising my own forearms and saying “Up? You want up?” and I swear, he does it. Like a dog! Like a dog trick!
He sometimes tries to imitate you when you blow a raspberry at him, but he can’t quite do it so he just ends up sort of doing something with his lips and tongue that isn’t really much of anything but is still positively enthralling.
It’s really important to me that he learn to amuse himself, plus the book says to give him lots of floor time, so I give him lots of floor time. And he just plays! He’ll just kick and laugh and suck on his fingers and roll over and try to crawl. I’ll attach a mirror to the top of the activity mat and he’ll laugh and babble at the baby in the mirror. It’s pretty great.
I realize that this isn’t exactly a revelation. I can imagine other moms reading this and totally going, “Duh.” Or worse, “Yeah, he’s cute now but wait ’till the blah blah blah.”
I’m still terrified for when the (insert “blah blah blah” noise here) teething shit hits the fan, but oh! Consonants should be coming soon! We’re already getting some “Mblah” and “Puh.” Maybe I’ll be thinking “Shut up!” when the hardcore babbling starts, but I can’t wait to find out.
Our basement is mostly empty and I’ve already started browsing online for floor mats and little tables and chairs for his future play area. I hope he likes drawing and doing crafty stuff because I want to bolt a roll of paper to the wall and baskets of the best crayons and jars of googly eyes and yarn things and other useless crap from Michaels to play with. And, if he’s not into that, I can compromise. I can do trucks and trains and we can pretend to make stuff explode. Dinosaurs? Not my favorite, but I can try.
He only turned 5 months the other day, so I guess I need to calm down with the crayons and the pom poms. I realize he’s not going to be drawing for quite some time! But he’s just starting to discover his feet and soon he will get his toes in his mouth! If you’ve ever spent much time with husband and I, you would think toes in the mouth was our primary reason for procreating. So, this stage is all pretty exciting.