But First...
I can't love my son enough. I can't kiss his forehead enough, hold him enough, look at him enough, rub his back enough, let his fingers wrap around one of mine enough, smell him enough. I can't love him enough so I spin inside with the clutch pulled in so that I don't hug him too tight in over enthusiasm. It's a good thing we see each other every day so that I may at least gently hug him often.
Our doulas said that the smell of new babies is the best and they were right. I think about how crazy-fanatic our friend Mitra gets about the smell of puppy breath. She thinks it's the best in the world. When Monte was a puppy, she use to go crazy over his puppy breath every time she came over and saw him. I always thought she was funny about the puppy-breath-smell-thing but now I understand; it's not just amusing, it's an addiction. For me the addictive smell is of Enzo; this sweet comforting smell, like the most perfect laundry detergent smell EVER. A smell that wafts over to my side of the bed sometimes at night and makes me smile. This smell I get when I kiss Enzo's chest or forehead. It's the best and I can not get enough.
Today I got to enjoy a lot of this baby smell. It was a PERFECT morning. The kind of morning that makes any vacation perfectly justifiable, all by itself. First, Enzo, for who knows what reason, slept through the night with only two diaper changes and breast feedings between one a.m. and seven a.m. What? I don't know how, but it happened so that at seven a.m. Tami and I were awake and feeling pretty good. And with this unexpected wakefulness, we were perfectly prepared to truly enjoy going back to bed, which we did. We all laid back down, even Enzo. Then, after the next feeding and diaper change we... went back to bed again. Awwwwwwwesome. Tami scratched my beard under my chin for at least five minutes. I love that. Yes, it's a little like scratching a dog under the jaw. Yes, I understand why dogs like it so much. It's excellent. I tried scratching myself but it doesn't compare. Then, Enzo and I were pretty much lying face to face over Tami and just staring at each other for a long time. I loved that too. Enzo is getting more and more muscle power so it was fun to watch him look at me and repeatedly move his arms as if to touch me. A couple of times he grabbed into my beard and I wondered if he could have been mimicking what he watched when Tami was rubbing my beard. Speaking of mimicking, Enzo is starting to look as though he is mimicking facial expressions. He definitely has some interesting looks that vary from grumpy old man to happy smiling baby. But as of last night, and twice today, it looks like he is mimicking my smile when I have him close and smile at him. It is beautiful weather by coincidence or any other cause. It could be his happiness at seeing me, or learning through mimicry, or gas. Just the same, I love to see that baby smile.
As an extra bonus for the day, I took a motorcycle ride, the first one since Enzo's birth, on the Valkyrie. I just went for a short ride and then to a coffee shop to prepare for a homework assignment. The last semester of my master's degree program begins at the end of January and on the first day of class we are to turn in a ten page paper. Tami said she was okay with me leaving for a while to ride to the coffee shop to start my paper and then to stop by Whole Foods for some groceries. The ride felt so good and refreshing. Just to be on the bike again and take a couple of twisty turns in the Stevens Creek foot hills was beautiful. I actually ended up stopping at the winery where Tami and I had our first date years ago. Then I went to a coffee shop in Cupertino where the latte was excellent. The paper I intended to begin typing did not progress very far, however. I spent all of my time just getting my mind around what I will need to cover in the paper and then going over some of my reference material. I expect it will be two more days of reviewing before I start typing. Anyway, the afternoon was nice but I missed Tami and Enzo.
When I got home, Enzo and I danced to Birima. I love this song. YouTube does not have the version I have but you can click here if you want to get an idea. The song is so happy and there is a part 2/3 of the way in where it just sounds like a celebration. From what I gathered at another site, the song is about a ruler named Birima who was so great that he brought the people of different classes together, spread music, and made everyone happy. The song makes me happy and dancing with Enzo made it even better. This whole dancing in the kitchen episode was after changing a diaper which brings me to the original inspiration for this post.
The Confession...
I have to admit that there are times when I imagine it's time to change Enzo's diaper and I think... "Now? Maybe just a couple more minutes?" It's sad. I want to stall. I don't want my son to sit in his poop and pee but sometimes, so tired, it is difficult to get up. I do get up and change his diaper, but I feel bad about the little stall that some times takes place while I have the conversation in my head that goes something like:
"-Dude! You can not just leave your son in a dirty diaper!
-I know! But maybe just a minute more?
-You mean like the minute you have been stalling and having this discussion with yourself in your head? How about that minute? Was that enough of a minute already? Are you comfortable thinking this over in your nice dry boxers?
-Okay, okay, you are right, I am getting up.
-Damn right I'm right."
Son, if you are reading this years after the fact, I am sorry. I admit, you spent a few more minutes in your wet diaper then was absolutely necessary. But only long enough for me to shame myself into getting up and to be awake enough to walk straight and get a new diaper. Sorry. I console myself with the assumption that most parents must have tangled with this issue at some point. It does seem kind of forgivable in light of the fact that I often become aware of your wet diaper before you are actually done using it. That's right son, it's not as uncommon as I would have imagined that just after your diaper comes off you decide to let out a little more. Sometimes we can hear you toot/poop and I tell Tami, "I'll change Enzo, just give him a few more seconds to get it all out." She sometimes let's me get away with this for a total of 3 more toots maximum. Then I get the "Babe! That's four already, he's done! Get up!" So, your mom keeps me in check when it's my turn to change you. The funniest ones, and they just make me laugh so much that I can never get even a little bit frustrated at these, are when I just get your new diaper on and hold you up only to hear the sound that means "let's change another diaper, dad." The record was set yesterday at a wet diaper to change, two separate pees between diapers (meaning I changed the mat under you twice before a new diaper even got back on to your cute butt) and then a poop as I just finished clasping your new diaper around you. Oh, you are a funny one. And a considerate one as you played this trick on me in the day time when I was in the best mood to enjoy the laugh, thank you for that. Also son, if you are in fact reading this, go tell your mom you love her right now. She is working her butt off to keep you fed and happy as I type this in your youthful past and she loves you a whole lot. Then go give me a kiss on the cheek because I love you and because I said so.
By the way, your mom just told me to check your diaper, mother's intuition I guess, as I finished the above. It was wet. Guess what you did in your fresh clean diaper while I was buttoning up the last button on your sleeper? Yep. You think you're so funny don't you? Good comedic timing with this blog post. Well, played my son. Well played.