In about half an hour, it will be exactly six months since I first heard this little guy’s voice, and saw his face, and my life changed completely. It all seemed so surreal at the time, but I remember it all with crystal clarity – the two sets of big double doors. You walk in one set of doors not knowing what to expect, no matter how much you’ve read up on it, and you walk out the other set of doors as a father. It’s as simple and as mind-blowingly complex as that. It seems like it was just yesterday, and yet today marks six months since a doctor handed me a screaming infant who has since become my best buddy.
Today Evan and I celebrated by just doing what we do best – hanging out at home, reading a couple of books, and watching what has turned into the only hour of TV he has any affinity for (Curious George followed by Clifford the Big Red Dog) while I folded lots of clothes. He got some napping in too – he’s still recovering from getting two of his shots yesterday, something which doesn’t really improve his mood for days on end. I also made my first-ever homemade batch of lemonade, which is so stout that it actually causes the molecules of your mouth to collapse in on themselves until there’s just a kind of mouth-shaped singularity left. I was happy with that achievement. It’s a sipping lemonade, not a gulping lemonade. (At least if anyone did gulp it, their head would probably implode.)
By the way, his vital stats as of yesterday are: 18 pounds, and a little over 29 inches – the 120th percentile for height. Evan’s going be a big kid, and probably not a fat kid like his daddy. While I’m scratching my head at the thought of having to stand on a stepstool to look my son in the eye someday, I’m not gonna complain. (And I can’t figure out where the height came from genetically, either…those of you who have seen us both in person know that neither my wife nor myself are exactly toweringly tall people.) And he’s literally within arm’s reach of being half my height when I stand him up on his feet. That’s kinda hard to take in. He’s also holding his own bottle, we’re feeding him cereal twice a day, and he’s already acquired such vital motor skills as cat-petting.
And all that in just six months. Where has the time gone?
I do know one thing – every second of it has been well spent.
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