My Son Gives My Heart the Feels

[Baby Watch: Day 191]

After receiving loving criticism from friends and family about the lack of blogs in the past month, I have decided to share 6 stories in (approximately) 6 days to celebrate Baby Oliver’s 6 month birthday.

Story #6

My Son Gives My Heart the Feels

As the old cliche goes, my mother taught me that “if I have nothing nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all.” (Note: The “old cliche” is the quote, not my mother. I mean, she’s not THAT old.) In my past blogs I have rambled about teething nightmares and a total disregard for the importance of sleep and all other manners of devilish behavior in which our little angel has partaken. I really haven’t written many positive things about Baby Oliver over the entire course of this blog. I was raised better than that. For shame.

So, in a karmic attempt to subtly and subconsciously change Oliver’s behavior for the better (and because I have developed a fear that if something happens to me before Oliver comes of age, he’ll look back at all the venom from my writings and think that I totally hated him, which is totally, completely . . . and only partially . . . true), I’ve decided that I should post a (mostly) positive blog for once.

Really, it’s not like having to think of his positive traits is some kind of chore. He’s an adorably sweet, and incredibly personable baby that only happens to be perpetually covered in snot and excrement. He’s started giving us little hugs and kisses, which are really just open-mouthed slobbers on your cheek (his mother would tell you he got his daddy’s kissing skills), but the effort is there all the same. When he wakes up in the morning, after a lengthy and complicated blinking recital, he always gives us the biggest, most genuine smile. It’s infectious and makes me happy every time I think about it.

He’s developed the most delightful laugh (I say “delightful” unbiasedly), which just so happens to sound exactly like mine (like I said . . . unbiased). If you know me, you’d know that my laugh alternates between a dopey, deep belly guffaw and a piercingly shrill, almost girlish cackle. It’s Foghorn Leghorn meets Lisa Simpson. It is not a laugh for an adult to be proud of (oh, and you’re so perfect?). It is, however, exceedingly adorable for a baby. And it’s pretty much my favorite thing in the world right now.

I’ve started playing a game I call Zombie Baby Eaters, which is essentially just me acting like a zombie and “eating” my baby in a blatant attempt to get him to laugh and thereby give me a self confidence boost (someone likes me!). If he had any idea how inappropriate and horrific this is, I’m sure he wouldn’t love it. He would call social services and report me as the big narcissistic baby cannibal that I am. But he’s a baby, and babies are dumb. So, for now, I’ll continue grunting and moaning as I take big pretend bites of my baby’s belly as he screams in delight. It’s crazy how much he likes it, and it’s crazy that this paragraph was typed sincerely, and no I have not been consuming bath salts.

But the absolute best part of his laugh is when he cracks up while we’re mad at him. Imagine any other scenario in life where this would cause boundless joy for all parties. You get cut off in traffic, the angry guy leans out his window and screams obscenities at you, and in response you giggle uncontrollably. Does he jump out of his car and assault you? Nope, cause he’s too busy laughing at the cuteness of your hysterical defiance. THAT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN. But when it’s a baby? Cutest damn thing ever. It’s the perfect way to cut the tension, and I promise I will personally start to use this same trick with the wife. “But baby (puts on sad puppy dog face), I don’t know whyyyy you’re mad at me (smiles . . . blinks slowly). You still love me, riiiiiiiight (smile grows wider . . . begins to chuckle . . . chuckle turns into all out laughter)?” Annnd, scene.

So there, I had nice things to say and I said them (which makes my mother happy). And I publicly said nice things about Oliver’s cool personality and silly laugh (which makes my wife happy). And my son is gunna get extra love and attention from his parents today / tonight cause writing this is giving my heart the feels (which will make Oliver happy), and I think I’ll make myself happy by posting a picture of the world’s cutest baby (I AM NOT BIASED!!!):

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