About a Boy

It was inevitable. I had a baby so: A. I don't update my blog anymore & B. I just write about motherhood. How predictable of me. But, I do believe you're here reading this out of your own free will, so I don't really feel that bad about it anyway.

Moving on…

This baby. Oh where do I begin talking about this baby? Well I'm sure if I really began where this baby began, it would be a much more interesting blog entry, but hey…It's not that kind of blog people. Okay, it is. But I'm not really in the mood to talk about that, I'm a mother now remember?

Moving on again…

I'll begin with how incredibly adorable that baby is. He actually did turn out looking like little bit of me and a little bit of Scott. My money was on another Carol look-a-like but he actually bears more of a resemblance to Grandpa Jim. I just hope that doesn't mean he'll spend his adulthood checking the Weather Channel every 2 minutes. But the most stunning feature that baby possesses are his eyes. He has the darkest peepers I have ever seen. They're beautiful, I just can't figure out whom he inherited them from. And no, "Maybe from his dad?" jokes ARE NOT FUNNY.

Then there's his personality. He oozes it. In the matter of thirty seconds this kid can give you every expression he's ever seen someone make. It's like watching a flip book. He's so animated in fact, that even I am impressed with his ability to properly associate the perfect facial expression for the occasion at hand. Like when I tell him 'no', he will shoot me a look that makes me think I should protect all my vital organs. It's really quite terrifying remarkable. I'm still wondering whom he got that look from though. It remains a mystery.

And now he's almost a year old. Sometimes I wonder how we made it this far, but mostly I can't believe how much I like this kid. You've probably heard it, how you'll never experience a love so deep as the love for your children. And don't worry; I made myself vomit a little with that sentence too. That's not exactly what I'm saying here either. It's just that when I think about that baby or when I'm holding him and he nuzzles that sweet little head with the mounds of dark mane next to my chin, I can't help but be incredibly happy.

You know how some memories just make you laugh every time you think about them? Like how my friend used to fart and then try to blow it away as a way of being polite…that shit cracks me up EVERY. TIME. Similarly, every single time I think about that baby I feel a giant flutter in my cold, black heart.

Now, I know what you're thinking…"Did she really just compare her feelings for that baby with a fart joke?" And yes, I did in fact compare my feelings to a fart joke but in my defense, Arlo thinks farts are hilarious too.