Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Has It Been A Week Already?
I always joked that wife was and is part machine, part Russian immigrant with an attitude. I figured her pregnancy would progress something like this: Push, Push, Birth, Send Thank you notes, make breakfast, and be awesome.
Alas, things did not turn out that way - but darn close. After our son was born and she rested for about 30 minutes. She proceeded to stand up and walk to her wheelchair to be transferred to her new room. Epidural Smepidural. My wife. My beautiful, bad-ass wife. No Super Bowl winning touchdown could have compared to the look on the nurses' faces.
My son is beautiful. I'm biased. Incredibly so. How it's possible to fall instantly and completely in love with something that looks like a cross between a California Raisin and a Smurf that took a shower under Gene Simmons' blood spitting routine I'll never know. But I don't care. Future dads, take note... your child does not come into this world wiped off. But somehow a midst all of the crying, and smurfedy smurfness, you find a way to discover that unconditional love for your child. With any luck it will follow them the rest of their days.