Oooooh, ahhhhh

LGO will soon be eight months old. Shocking, isn't it? Well, it is a shock to me at least. The time has both flown and, at times, dragged. It feels, if not exactly an eternity, that we have known this little man our entire lives. All the cliches, about not knowing what it is to be a mother until you are one, unfortunately ring true. I love him fiercely, but at times I am less enamoured by how unrecognizable my life is with him in it. Sometimes it would be nice to have leisure time, time for the brain to idle just a bit instead of revving through the gears. Time enough for boredom to set in... and sleep to nourish. Ah!

Still, every week is marked by some amazing progress in his development. Funny how every minute milestone becomes a mammoth event in a parent's eyes: the famous firsts. How he can sit now without toppling over. How his two bottom teeth sparkle when he smiles up at you. How he giggles over some silly expression you've just pulled, and how you willingly make a fool of yourself over and over again so he'll keep smiling. And you're convinced all the while that that little smile is the most beautiful smile you've ever seen... The wonders are seriously manifold, and true to form, words seldom do them justice. His quirks are as remarkable to me as they are mundane to others. The way he rubs his bare feet together as if to generate sparks. How he delights in nibbling his toes and thus despises having socks on. How he has discovered how to squeal, and click his tongue. You memorize every last detail about him the way you do when you first fall in love. A baby has the power to infatuate. Deep down, I think I never really believed this, even though I hoped it to be so.

Enraptured, you notice all his little quirks, and the same spell is cast over you as if fairy dust were blown into your eyes. He is yours; he is divine and beautiful. The smell of his soft, pure skin intoxicates you, just as with a new lover. And through the hectic routine and the cumulative early morning exhaustion that at once distances you, he has somehow drawn you and your partner closer together. Between you, you feel an almost godly power, for together you have created this little prince, who is a wonder and a thrill to you both. You are in love again, and even though it is with a third party this new love unites you in a way you never thought possible. That is the magic of children. There is an addictive element to it, a magnetic pull that I now understand, though the element of hardship remains very fresh, very real in my mind. And despite everything, I scarcely believe I have the mental or physical wherewithal to do it all over again.

For us, Little Green is it. He is precious, and he is enough.