Guess Who's 1 Month Old Today?

This guy! (Click to enlarge)

A month already? Crazy. Before we know it he'll be crawling, and toddling, then walking, and running and falling and banging his head off of the coffee table and....sheesh. Time flies.

We got this nursing shit down, and I swear he looks chubbier every day. And he seems to be growing longer at a freakish pace so today I took out the tape measure and...23 freakin inches already. Almost 2 feet tall. I'm gonna be buying jeans and sneakers every damn month. 

It's fascinating watching and waiting for him to reach the developmental milestones that he should. Pretty sure I caught him smiling the other day (there's an almost smile in one of the individual photos above) and most times when I hold him to my chest, he grabs onto my shirt with super-baby strength. Seriously, it's difficult to get him to let go sometimes. Breast milk, it does a body good.

Taylor's first lesson in editing. He slept through it.

It seems he's put himself onto a sleeping schedule at night: midnight - 4 am, then he nurses for about 30-60 minutes, and then back to sleep until 6:30 or 7. There's times when we're ready to go to bed well before midnight, but he refuses to fall asleep, and that can suck, but he more than makes up for it. 

My favorite part of the day is after work, when I make the long commute (about 13 steps) home to the family. Most days, I get about a half hour with him while Beck showers, but she is definitely taking care of him 95% of the day. So when I finally get out of the edit bay, she's more than willing to let me snatch him up a while, and I quickly oblige. 

Tough first season, buddy...I know.

I must admit, I have this tiny little fear that we're not getting enough time together. Maybe if I worked outside of the home I could more easily fall in line with the rest of society, but I can't shake this nagging little suspicion that I should be spending more time with him every day. The worst part is that I'm only about 20 yards directly above where he and Beck hang out most of the days so I can hear everything that's going on. I hear Beck change him, I hear him cry, and I hear her shhhhh him back to calm. I hear it all and it's extremely difficult to stay focused and not call it a day at 10 am. I mean, I've never really truly loved the shit that I work on every single day, but it's never been THIS difficult to go to work and get accomplish something. I've even started entering the bay a little earlier in the morning hoping that if I get away from Taylor sooner it won't be as difficult. 

I think it was two weeks ago when we finally gathered enough courage to venture outside with the boy (it's scary out there for a new parent when you start thinking about all the shit that could go wrong and all the toxins in the air in Southern CA that spawned those mutant stray dogs that roam the alleys eating nothing but baby boys that I keep hearing about...).

On our first trip, we put him in the stroller, but all I could think about was that scene with Maggie Gyllenhaal's character in Sam Mendes' Away We Go:

LN: [to Roderick] They bought us a stroller. 
Burt: What's wrong with a stroller? 
LN: I LOVE my babies. Why would I want to PUSH them away from me?

Eccentric? Sure. Weird? Maybe a little. To some people. Do I understand that quote more now than when we saw the film for the first? Oh yeah.

No, that quote isn't entirely the reason why, but we started walking him in the Moby, which is really great. Taylor must feel like he's back in the womb when he's all bundled up close to Mom's bosom. The Moby is perfect for short trips to the store or just around the block to get some fresh air. I really can't see us taking the stroller (and pushing him AWAY from us) unless it's a long excursion that will require multiple diaper changes and such. Besides, he cried quite a bit when he was in the stroller, but the Moby knocks him out. Maybe there is something to that quote after all.

So happy 1 Month Birthday, son.

I'm done trying to figure it out, but it amazes me how much I can love and care for you without even knowing you all that well yet. You haven't said a word to me IN A WHOLE DAMN MONTH - not a single hello, what's up, or how was your day - but I'm not mad. You can't even be bothered to keep your eyes open most of the times I talk to you and you slept through your first lesson in editing, but it's cool. And you've shit on me three times and pissed on me countless others, but you know what, we still boys. Why? Because you're mine, that's why. And that's the only reason I need.

How's that for unconditional love?