Magic Baby- Someday December Somethingth

I think it’s Tuesday.  Or Wednesday.  I just looked in the corner of my computer screen and learned it’s Thursday December 22th.  It’s the second best Thursday I’ve ever had in my life- the first being last Thursday.  Hazel and I are still getting to know each other but so far I’ve noticed that not only is she a beautiful creature, but she’s also magical.

Hazel is still in a womblike state of sleepiness and peeness and poopiness.  One of her magical qualities makes her pees and poops utterly charming, especially when she does them at the same time while naked and creates a pool of pee and poop that she splashes around in it like she’s at a day spa while her mom and dad rush around the room bumping heads and shouting “where are the diapers!” “where are the wipes!”  The rest of the time she practices making adorable faces and waving her arms and legs around.  Under Hazel’s spell, we alternatively gaze and smile at her, at each other, hug, kiss, sigh, and say “I can’t believe this is real.”

Most babies say “Wa Wa Wa” when they cry.  Magical babies say “La La La”.  This might not sound like a big difference, but that’s because as you read this you probably aren’t staring down a screaming baby.  If you were you’d understand that hearing a baby say La La La, even when red faced and chin quivering, makes it pretty hard not to laugh.  And when you and your partner are laughing it’s pretty hard to panic, especially when you know as soon as you get a diaper changed or boob out the baby will stop crying.  In fact, when Hazel starts LaLa-ing Tom and I like to join in and make a family chorus.  Hazel is the only one who isn’t off-key, but she never makes fun of us.

Magical babies absolve their mommies and daddies of feeling guilt for being so happy when their other child is in heaven.  Magical babies make their mommies barely notice their new weird body and only obsess a few minutes a day about how their nipples will soon be tough instead of cracked and scabby but they’ll never point upwards without a bra ever again.  Magical babies make you see how good and bright and lovely the world is, even when it’s 4 am and you’re watching a documentary about Heidi Fleiss and debating if it’s worth it to go to bed for the hour and a half you have left before the next feeding.

I know that it won’t always be like this.  Some days will be hard and scary and tiring.  Some days we’ll long for the awesome grown up life we had, when we traveled and ate and drank like yuppies.  But magical babies make you understand that one milligram of their love is more valuable than anything you ever had before they arrived.