Ten weeks? Ten years? How long?

They grow up right before your eyes, don’t they? Indeed. Another old statement of the very obvious is proven right again: our son is definitely growing… well, not up, but more outwards. What Brits and Scots (and some Americans, probably) would call “bonny,” Ray weighs in at a hefty six-kilos-plus now.

But at least he’s a happy, if somewhat chubby, chap. Or happier. Yes, he still does the reverse of turning a frown upside down (i.e. frowns) and cries his little socks off (literally: his socks do fall off) and wails and wails as if it’s the end of his cossetted little world. But he’s also started to gurgle and coo and to smile and to hold our eyes as we gaze at him. He even “talks” back as we chat about our days and (in my case) how tortuous they’ve been.

This is truly a magical time and an experience to be treasured and it makes all the crying and the ridiculously unpleasant farts* all worth it, although that opinion can take a severe knocking at 10pm when he won’t sleep.

It’s also a time when we know we can really shape his development, so we’re playing music, reading and talking, and encouraging him to crawl, look at things and all the other stuff that could help boost his little brainpower.

It also brings us closer as a couple, although I still wander off absentmindedly sometimes on some little mission (forgot the remote, forgot to take my socks off, forgot what I was doing, etc.) and have to be called back loudly. But we can really share in the joys of togetherness where before, it was crying Ray with me and contented Ray at Rebecca’s breast. I can also confidently send Rebecca to bed as I take the 8pm-12am shift, feeding Ray at 11:30 as he dozes in a pillow with me softly whispering to him.

Fatherhood’s great, mostly. But that said, would we go through the first 10 months again in a hurry? Probably not. That’s why humans are built so we can’t. And so we forget over time, too. So I’m told by those older and wiser than me, and who am I to contradict them?

Ray at play in what is laughably called a "gym." He barely breaks a sweat!

Ray at play in what is laughably called a “gym.” He barely even breaks into a sweat!

*Yes, among the things they don’t tell you in the “things they don’t tell you about parenting” lists is the horrendous guffs that babies can emit. Or maybe it’s just Ray’s special gift.

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