The boy is now two months old, and is exploding onto the scene. He's gone from someone who eats, sleeps, fills his diaper and stares at nothing to someone with a personality. He smiles all the time, which of course melts my heart every time he does it at me. He recognizes us. He giggles, especially when I rub the bottom of his feet. He has "conversations," mostly with himself. He's discovered that he can make other noises than just cries.
He is amazing. A week or so ago I was nestling him in my arms as he was falling asleep when all of the sudden his eyes shot open and he smiled at me. Then he fell fast asleep. There may never have been a more perfect moment in my life. When I die, I hope I have the chance to make that the last thing I remember about this world.
Kristen and I are adjusting, but we are still stumped by a few things. He had his first vaccinations last Friday, and even though we knew he could be a little fussy for a while afterwards, we were still a little stunned by how loudly he screamed, how persistently. Even though it's normal, it's hard to hear a baby that you would do anything for be that upset. He calmed down after an hour or so and slept for the rest of the night, so all is well. We know that he is not a crier unless he's hungry, needs a diaper change, or gets startled while he is sleeping (those cries can be very startling for us too) and we are good at recognizing which cry it is. And now we know the "I've just had multiple needles plunged into my legs and you're damn right I'm going to howl" cry, so we'll be better prepared next time.
He is a pork chop. I can't believe how different he looks, how he has plumped out all over the place. He has rolls on his legs and his neck, and multiple chins. His belly sticks out over the sides of his torso.
I know 99.9% of people with children saw all this when their first child was an infant. Still, because it's new for me it feels so individualistic, like I am the only one who has ever gone through this. It will be interesting to see how I react when number two comes around (no, that is not a breaking news story-that is still a ways away).
Having Desmond in December (though not specifically planned) has done wonders for my mental being. Normally around this time of year I get significantly blue as I get full sick of winter. We are actually having a winter in Chicago this year; multiple snowfalls and cold temperatures, in contrast to the last few years when it seems like we get shipped to Seattle for three months. Forty degrees with rain and low, gray clouds really head me into a funk when they last for weeks at a time. They shouldn't call what we've had in the past winter; it ought to be called blah, or something a bit more vitriolic.
(By the way, no offense to Seattle. I like it there. There's enough to do to overcome the iffy weather most of the time. I'm just not used to it)
I am already thinking to next winter when Des will be able to go outside and experience what it feels like in the snow. Of course before that he'll have the opportunity to roll in the grass. Having a kid is like being a kid again, because I get to see the things I did again, this time as a witness. I never really thought about that before.
Man, I love my son. I knew I would, of course, but I did not think it would be this much of a rush. I feel like I just climbed Mount Everest in an hour.