Cosmo is a gift. Somehow, every day, despite the craziness, he and I manage to fit in a stretch of just talking, looking at each other, gazing into each other’s eyes. He locked eyes with me yesterday, and smiled for the first time, and it was magical.
He will be three weeks old tomorrow. For reasons entirely unrelated to adorable babies, the past month has been a hard one. But Cosmo is perfect, and we all love him with ferocity and tenderness, and sweetness and joy. I don’t think that I’m delusional in experiencing each baby as more effortless than the last. Things really do seem to flow—we sleep, we wake, we do our thing, and Cosmo happily comes along for the ride. Oh, there are lots of things that are a crazy disaster right now, but not my experiencing of mothering this new one.
All three of Cosmo’s older siblings shower him with cuddles and kisses at every waking moment (and during sleeping moments, which is somewhat irritating, but also irresistible). Felix has coined a new word: “Holdem! Holdem!” he cries, constantly wanting his baby brother in his arms. As soon as Cosmo has a little pee or poop, the others crowd around, ecstatic to help with a clean towel, or a fresh cloth for wiping.
I believe that we are all who we are, at birth. Life just expands on that essential self, or soul, that we possess from the beginning. Cosmo seems to me to be easygoing and wise, tolerant, somewhat serious, but with a full, soft sense of humour. I love that mothers love their babies best, and see the best in their children. These kids of mine just glow.