metaphortunate son (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
metaphortunate) wrote2014-04-03 09:54 pm
metaphortunate) wrote2014-04-03 09:54 pm
what I know now
Thinking about this because my body has decided to let me know that we are ready! To try for another baby! In other words, this is your periodic reminder that the natural wisdom of the body is frequently an enormous load of horseshit. No more babies. Rocket is my last baby. And yes I am sad about that, but sad in that way that anything you do or have for the last time always has a bit of a breath from the grave. It’s me I’m mourning, and the narrowing of possibilities in my life, not hypothetical future babies. Because I love my guys but they are enough. I’m good.
However, one thing I am truly savoring about my last baby is something I did not know enough to know was a special joy of the baby phase when I had it with the Junebug. See, when the Junebug was a tiny baby I wanted to kiss him basically just all the time. He was always covered in lipstick. But, see, what I didn’t know is that that urge to kiss him all the time, it wouldn’t be going away. It’s still there.
From something Mr. E’s mom said once, it may not go away when he’s in his thirties, either.
But people who are nearly three, they don’t want to be kissed all the time. There are logs to climb and songs to yell and trucks to push around and scooters to ride and racecars to vroom and who’s got time to stand around and be kissed all the time? Hell no. So - while I cannot precisely say that I am enjoying every moment - at midnight, 3 am, and 5 am you will hear me murmuring in a soothing voice that this is exactly why nobody likes babies, you tiny jerk - I can say that I am delighting in every moment that I kiss Rocket’s fat little cheeks or soft little belly or tiny toes or delicate little fingers or squishy little elbows, and he beams all over his face or even breaks into laughter of joy. Me kissing him is the highlight of his whole day. Oh man, if I zerbert his face, it is the funniest and funnest thing that has ever happened to a baby. I want to kiss him all the time, and he wants to be kissed all the time, and for this brief brief moment, I hug him and kiss him, and we are one in our delight.
However, one thing I am truly savoring about my last baby is something I did not know enough to know was a special joy of the baby phase when I had it with the Junebug. See, when the Junebug was a tiny baby I wanted to kiss him basically just all the time. He was always covered in lipstick. But, see, what I didn’t know is that that urge to kiss him all the time, it wouldn’t be going away. It’s still there.
From something Mr. E’s mom said once, it may not go away when he’s in his thirties, either.
But people who are nearly three, they don’t want to be kissed all the time. There are logs to climb and songs to yell and trucks to push around and scooters to ride and racecars to vroom and who’s got time to stand around and be kissed all the time? Hell no. So - while I cannot precisely say that I am enjoying every moment - at midnight, 3 am, and 5 am you will hear me murmuring in a soothing voice that this is exactly why nobody likes babies, you tiny jerk - I can say that I am delighting in every moment that I kiss Rocket’s fat little cheeks or soft little belly or tiny toes or delicate little fingers or squishy little elbows, and he beams all over his face or even breaks into laughter of joy. Me kissing him is the highlight of his whole day. Oh man, if I zerbert his face, it is the funniest and funnest thing that has ever happened to a baby. I want to kiss him all the time, and he wants to be kissed all the time, and for this brief brief moment, I hug him and kiss him, and we are one in our delight.
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