We're one of Those People Now?

"Naaaaah," We said together. I giggled.

"What so funny?" my husband asked, with that little wrinkle between his eyebrows that only appears when he's confused.

"We both agreed to say no to yet another invitation to go out. Our poor, estranged friends. I feel bad, but it's funny what our alternative is." I smiled.

"Yeah," he agreed, "it's not like we're tired, or have something we need to do that..."

"We do," I interrupted him as I looked down at the baby I held in my arms. He flashed a two-tooth grin as if he knew I was talking about him." My husband smiled too, leaning in to kiss the top of his blonde head, then paying my lips the same favor on his way back up.

"They understand, you know." He said, almost sighing, like he was worried that I was feeling guilty and trying to hide it.

"What do they understand? That we are completely self-absorbed and out of touch with the world?" I frowned, upset at how true that statement really was.

"No, that we are just two 60 year olds in their 20's." He smiled that same sly smile that I carry with me, have carried since the day we met.

I laughed. And laughed some more. Joshua wiggled excitedly in my arms, and began laughing too- thinking it was some sort of game, I'm sure.

"So we're one of those people now?" I smiled because I liked the sound of it, knowing the only person I would ever, could ever, grow old with was the one I was facing now.

"No," he said quickly. "We're two of those people now." He leaned in to kiss me again, and Joshua reached up, grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged.

We laughed our Saturday night away. At home.

Everyday Miracles

It's happened. Officially. I cannot for the life of me remember what my life was like before Joshua. I know how absurd this sounds since he hasn't even reached his third month of life yet, but I assure you it has happened. I realized that tonight when I heard him let out a little whimper while we were visiting his great-grandparents. Not even giving it a thought, I pulled him into my arms and began unbuttoning his little jumper, because it was clear to me that he was starting to get a little warm. Joshua let out a lil sigh of relief and turned his sweet lil face toward mine and smiled. My dad, sat across the room, nodding in disbelief. "What?" I asked. He replied, "You are a mother in every sense of the word." It was the sweetest compliment I have ever received in my life. I know in a lot of ways he was saying it to himself, or rather trying to convince himself that it had really happened and that he had not imagined it. Lord knows I wasn't like that before him. Not in the least bit. I was self-centered, synical, and unbelievably impatient. Joshua was of course, not planned, and when I found out that I was indeed going to welcome a son into the world at the age of 21, I wasn't sure if I could be a good mother, or even an acceptable mother at all. And now, with each day, I am more and more sure that there is no human on the face of the planet that is ever really ready to be a parent, definitely not a mother. There is no way any individual can prepare themself to take complete responsibility for another being. Thankfully, what we lack by nature, can be taught if we really open our hearts and pay attention... to our children. I know that Joshua has already taught me so much more than I could ever imagine to teach to him. His sweet little face is innocence in human form. When he reaches for me, he reaches without hesitation, with complete and total trust and adoration. He laughs at the most unusual things, but as I look a second time I remember a time when I wasn't too busy to notice such "normal" things. And finally, when he cries, I know he cries because he needs me, hopelessly needs me, and as I soothe him, I smile because I know I need him just as much.