Babies. We make them. This is a fact that is known by everyone, and it might just be the most obvious statement a person is capable of uttering. And yet, when you make one of your own, the whole process seems strangely impossible. When I watch my son, it’s unfathomable that I had a hand in creating an entire human being. The strangest part of it all? This feeling is somewhat new to me. This sense of absolute wonderment wasn’t around when he was born, or it at least paled in comparison to the feeling’s recent severity.
Cute, but strikingly potato-like.
During the first few months, our kid was basically a potato. A potato that cried. And pooped. A LOT. Now, granted, he was a very sweet and cute potato, he just didn’t… do very much. I mean, staring at him was neat, but, as a potato, he didn’t have a lot to offer entertainment wise. Then, he started figuring stuff out.
Now I understand what people are talking about when they gush and prattle on about how much fun they have with their babies. This being my first, I honestly felt as though I was missing something. There I was, holding our little potato (affectionately nicknamed Babby Spanch), wondering where all this “fun” was to be found. Before I elaborate further, let’s go ahead and separate the concepts of joy and fun. The joys of creating a person were never lost on me. But, if you’ve ever heard somebody describe taking care of a newborn with colic, reflux, a list of food allergies as long as my arm, a tongue tie, and a lip tie as fun, then I would have to call that person a big, fat fibber.
These little problems, while desperately hard to deal with at the time, have slowly (mostly) eroded away with time. After a double frenectomy, several prescriptions of infant zantac, and a seemingly endless string of sleepless nights, I can finally say that I am having actual fun with this kid. No longer just the “this is my baby and I have to convince myself that I’m having a good time before I burn the house down” kind of fun, but rather the “OMG HE FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW TO GRASP AT HIS TOYS AND HE’S COMPETENT AT TUMMY TIME AND LOVES BEING TICKLED” kind of fun. This kid is an absolute riot, and being excited about the end of naptime is a welcome lifestyle change.
 He found his tongue. It's my favorite. |  His bath is his happy place. His very, very happy place. |
Watching this little guy develop into what is mostly a fully functioning human being is just about the neatest thing ever. Before, while he was obviously going to grow up into a real person, it was hard to mentally conceptualize him in that way. Now, when he hears my voice, turns his head, and looks genuinely happy to see me, I get all kinds of giddy inside. He has his very own personality, and it’s manifesting itself in more ways than I even thought possible. He loves to be adventurous, just like me. He loves being flown around and flipped upside down, and he’s starting to learn what spoons and his favorite foods are. He’s growing out of being “Babby Spanch,” and is starting to act more like Sullivan Church. I couldn’t be happier with his progress.
-MC