Am I Crazy, Or Does He Just Get Cuter?

Call me crazy - I've been called worse - but he just gets cuter every day to me. His face, his hands, his tummy, he is just an incredible all-consuming beauty. He flashes these little smiles at me from time to time, and while I know they are only "milk burbs" those sweet little smiles make me coo like a dove.

he has the most delightful eyes, and while I know that he can't see much further than his just past his nose, he looks at me sometimes with such intensity that I think I am going to explode with joy.

We sit together in a sunny spot some days, quiet and alone, warm together, and I am overwhelmed with the sheer beauty of the experience. I like being an Abba - I like it a lot! It is awesome - the no'rah Jewish kind of awe, not the surfer kind, by the way. There is something truly awe inspiring, humbling, and incredibly hopeful about parenting, and in particular in fathering.

We sit and listen to music together (his Aunty Steph sent the sweetest compilation CD) and I cry like a professional mourner. I just can't help myself, it is too much to contemplate sometimes.

There will be any number of days ahead when he will try my last nerve, and I will, I am sure at some point have to yell at him. But, for right now, I am happier than a pig in shit (to coin a phrase much used rural New Zealand vernacular). I can't believe that life can be this good, sweet, and joy-filled.