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have so much to say
about the feelings of being a father, about all of the new responsibilities
I have, about everyone I know coming up to me and congratulating me (I
don’t know why, though, because I had the easy part). But I’m not going
to, because in reality, it’s not important – the only thing that is important
is my son (wow – it sounds weird to say that! Very cool, but weird). So,
this is his day.
My son is about a week old now – my, how time flies – and a week-old
baby doesn’t do much other than eat, sleep, and go to the bathroom. But
I’ve already found a whole list of things that I love about him. Let’s
see:
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His eyes. Most Caucasian babies have blue eyes, of course, but his are
actually a dark grey. I would guess they’ll eventually turn dark brown
like mine and Mom’s. Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean -- it's amazing
how much expression he has already. He looks around the room, trying to
take everything in, and then stares at the person holding him. I have to
admit, I caught myself looking into his eyes once, and couldn't stop.
-
His nose. I'm not intentionally going to create a list of every body part
he has, but I can't pass this one up. The debate rages on with everyone
who visits as to which of his parents he looks like. But there is one place
that I have declared no contest, for myself at least -- he has his mom's
nose.
-
The way he whimpers before he cries. It's enough to make me want to cry,
too.
-
The way he curls up into a ball when you hold him close to you.
-
The funny faces he makes. I'm sure they're not really of his doing -- gas,
probably -- but they're still cute. Maybe my parents' favorite thing about
him (other than the bragging rights they now have).
Things have been going fine in general since he was born -- he is healthy
in every way, although maybe a bit small for a full-term newborn. He has
a rebel yell of a cry, that he has utilized every night since the first
night in the hospital with him, which, at three in the morning, made me
wonder for a split second what I had gotten myself into. But in general,
I'm just in awe over suddenly being a father, and over the amazing creation
that I have the opportunity to hold in my arms.
And strangest of all, every once in a while, when I am watching him
sleep, or look around the room, I'll look at him -- and see myself.
(And did anyone get that cool Elton John reference in point one up there?...)
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