The first 31 days

The boy turned one month old Monday.  He and I celebrated during his normal witching hours by watching Braveheart, though I don't think he understood most of it.  However, when he woke up the next morning he looked at me and said "They can take our lives, but they can never take our (sound of him filling his diaper)!!!"

Many people warned me that time would go by quickly, but I have to say that it has not.  It feels like Desmond has been around for a lot more than just a little over four weeks.  My life has changed a lot, obviously.  I knew that it would.  Still, it has not been easy.  This is not a complaint, but I find myself doing nothing except tending to my son and trying to keep our house under control.  I can't imagine how my wife must feel, since she is on call 24/7.  Every time Des needs to nurse, she has to drop everything.  It's amazing.  She has never said anything about the loss of personal time since our son was born.  She is a natural mother.  Both Desmond and I are lucky to be going through this experience with her.

I can't say what my favorite thing about Desmond is.  I love it when he falls asleep on my chest.  That happened a lot in the first two weeks of his life, but since then it has only happened once.  I love his wide eyes.  At times I think my son is the reincarnation of Marty Feldman.

I just realized that link doesn't have a picture of Mr. Feldman.  Excuse me while I hunt...ah, here we are!

Des has really big eyes, and I love it when they just stare out at anything.  They widen and he looks completely enraptured.  I've been told that he really can't focus on much yet, but I don't care.  As far as I am concerned, he's studying the details of the cracks in the ceiling.

I'm fairly good at calming him down whenever he is upset (except when he is hungry, for obvious reasons), and I usually can get him to sleep just about anytime.  I have a secret weapon that I call "The Redeemer."  Resting Desmond face-up on my arms, I cradle his head in my hands. His arms go limp, hanging over the sides of my arms, and he falls asleep quickly.  I call it the Redeemer because he looks just like the statue in Rio (if someone knocked it over) when he lies like this. 

This is normally the only time, when he falls asleep on me like that, where I want time to freeze.  I want to be able to pick him up in forty years and have this still happen.  Just the thought that I won't always be able to do this saddens me.  So I guess that this is my favorite thing about him.

That will change soon, I reckon, because he is days away from smiling voluntarily.  We can tell that he is trying but not yet able, which leads to some highly comedic moments.  He has an enjoyable smirk.  When he smiles now, it is usually when he is asleep.  He's got a penchant for letting one slip out just after I have said something somewhat inappropriate.

I still can't quite believe that I have a son.  At night, he sleeps next to us and I am constantly staring at him.  His involuntary jerks and spasms are like signals from a faraway place, telling me that there is something else out there.  It's like a bolt of reassurance going through me.  It reminds me of how different things are now, how life will never be the same as it was before December 21, 2007.

Most of all, it reminds me how freakin' lucky I am.