This is just a self-indulgent post about Vincent. Mostly.
Post bath, V climbed up on his bed with his ‘Puppy book’ and said “Mama too? Mama too. Mummy too!” How on earth is one supposed to resist that. Really. Must have a total heart of stone.
Since I am a huge sucker, up I climbed and proceeded to marvel at all of those puppies. Puppies are right at the top of the ‘love’ list at the moment.
While he sat on his bed and turned those pages, my fingers toyed with the most adorable baby curls you have ever seen in your life. Slightly damp from the bath curls. Hair sticking up all over the place. Sweet little tender neck, smelling like Dove bodywash. Fat little tummy peeking out between diaper and slightly too small pajama top.
While he counted those dogs and giggled and squirmed away from my kisses, I stroked those curls and tickled that fat belly.
And why? Well, one of my favorite ladies in the whole world (and a genetic lady at that). Ok, my sweet cousin. Who might as well be my sister, we are that close (that’s what you do in Canada).
Well, that sweet lady is in labour with her first little boy right now. So while I was driving home this evening, talking to her quickly between contractions. And then while I held on when she told me “Here comes a big one” and it went silent for quite a while. And then, while I was holding, I got all teared up.
The first baby is a special thing for every single woman and man. And looking at my little man and thinking of Tal and Sean embarking on this awesome voyage that is parenthood…
Apparently all I can do is stroke some sweet baby curls, wish I was there to offer my arms to lean on and support and cry just a little bit.
It’s just a little bit, Tal, not a lot.