Not a lot of updates lately, there's been a lot I've wanted to talk about, but there doesn't seem to be enough time in a day anymore to do everything I want to do. With the year wrapping up I'm going to try to get a few end-of-year posts out (best movies, best comics, best things of 2005, and maybe even a little look forward to 2006). Today's is “Why Ryan probably thinks I'm gay”, or how my baby girl changed my life.
I knew the moment that I laid eyes on that floppy little battered up face that she was the most profound thing to have happened to my life up until that point, and that the struggle Char had gone through for 12 hours had made us closer as a couple, but I wouldn't know until months later just how much Kaylin would mean to me.
In the beginning I loved her, you have to, it's your one job. You hold her, cuddle her, rock her, talk to her, and coo over her, but it's all one-sided. Sure she would grab my finger, and open her eyes, and occasionally “smile”, but everything there was instinct. There are elaborate scientific names for why she grabs your hand, or why her feet move a certain way, or why she falls asleep on your chest…but most of it is unconscious.
It's this last two months that she's become my favourite person in the world (next to her mommy of course). I look forward to going to bed just because I know I'll be awake sooner. It's like every night is Christmas eve, and you know that the next morning there's a big ole whack of Matchbox cars waiting for you under the tree.
She's just awesome. She smiles all…the…time. She giggles now (which is just about the most awesome sound in the world). She grabs for my hand, feels my beard, and even giggles when her feet rub on my prickly face.
Every day she makes a different sound. She mimicks us, one day you'll stick out your tounge and blow at her, and two days later she's making the same sound. If you laugh at something she does, you can rest assured that she'll do it again. She goes through her repetoire of sounds, and then throws in one that she hasn't made in a couple of days just to “change it up”. She reaches out with her tiny hands to touch every surface she can, and will often absent mindedly scratch her head in the cutest way possible. She sqeals with delight when she sees herself in a mirror and giggles hysterically when we play the “boo” game.
She's so cuddly, and I just love to hug her. She loves to hang out in my “daddy nook” (the crook of my left arm), and will sit in my lap for half an hour as we play X-Box (okay, I play X-Box, she plays with her linky-doo's).
A couple of weeks ago we went to Tim and Nikki's daughter Sofia's first birthday party. Kaylin was in a really bad mood and didn't want to be touched by anyone other than Char or I (and even that was tenuous at best).
It was really stressful as we did the “daddy bounce” and the “mommy sway” upstairs in Tim and Nikki's bathroom, trying to get her under control. She eventually did calm down, although a mere look from someone else was enough to send her into that abject look of sadness that all babies have which says “back off, I'm gonna blow”.
I have to admit that when I was sitting downstairs and she was snuggled up in my lap, happy however tenacious that contentment was, I was secretly glad that she felt safe with me.
Everyone says it gets better, but that's the thing…I don't want it to get better. I love the gummy smile, I can't imagine it with teeth. I love how cuddly she is, and don't want her to push me away. I love the squeals of delight, and don't want to hear them turn into “NO's” of anger.
I just wish I could take every moment of time with her in some ziplock bag of life and flash freeze it. Then whenever I wanted a “hit” of baby Kaylin, I'd be able to pull a bag out, microwave it on high for 2-4 minutes, and dive into the goodness.
I know that in the next couple of days I'm going to get a one-word email from Ryan that says “gay”, and you know what? I'm okay with that.