31
Jan
07

Unconditional


I type with Jude heaped over my left shoulder. Out cold. Today is a particularly bad day, uncharacteristically so for little man. Typically fairly independent, he will not even consider sleeping unless he is touching me. Nothing seems to occupy his mind for more than a minute, except the desire to be held. We tried walking, singing, dancing, bouncing, stillness, inside, outside, the rattle, the mobile, total silence. Nothing. This afternoon he actually reared back (with his newfound head strength) and spit up all over my face. So there I was, splattered in my own milk, loving him more than yesterday and twice as much as the day before. This love, it’s madness. The compounding pace is incomprehensible. I will burst before his first birthday.

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