As I begin to write this note celebrating the one month mark of my second child, this one, same word comes to mind again and again. Perhaps I should switch to infatuated by, overflowing with love, consumed, engrossed, fascinated by, or my love abounds...for I have used the word obsessed when describing my children far too frequently. And I don't really feel like it captures my true attitude, feeling, whatever it is, toward them. And now that there are 2 babies!? You can imagine how bad it has become.
As long as I can remember, I've had this bizarre habit of rolling up and biting my tongue when holding or petting something adorable. As a child, it was mainly geared toward animals, especially baby animals, and it was glaringly obvious. As I have grown and matured, I am a bit more selective in who/what causes me to bite my tongue, and I have also learned to generally keep my mouth closed, or just clentch my teeth (the rolled tongue appears every so often, some things are just too extremely cute). Let me just say ever since Curtis' arrival my jaw has been really sore, my tongue is a bit raw, and I am fairly certain I now have micro-cracks in more than a couple teeth. It also takes quite a bit of self control to not squeeze the child to death; you just can't hug or kiss them hard enough.
My mother may or may not have taken me to see a psychiatrist as a youngster due to my "torturing & tormenting" of animals - as this is a well known trait in many psychopaths. Honestly, I don't think I was ever torturing them to actually cause harm, I just didn't know any other way to express my extreme love. (Okay, I'll be honest, I am also very antagonistic in nature, so I am sure some of my tormenting was to actually elicit a response, but that is a completely different issue.) And that is how I feel still, to this day. I have not yet figured out how to express my love to its' maximum potential. Though I have about a million things going on in my life, and a million things I still want to accomplish in life, I am currently (and I am guessing, always will be) consumed by my children.
After just 30 days of existence, Curtis has absolutely stolen my heart. I will never be the same person I was just one month ago. Outsiders see the tangible ways a child changes your life. They see you with your hands constantly full, and that the house is just that much messier, and spontaneously going out to eat has simply disappeared. They hear his adorable little warning cries, that say, "I am not really upset now, but absolutely will be in about 3 minutes if I don't get food or a diaper change." They can see his sporadic arm and leg movements, and the little kissy face he likes to make. They can watch him attempt to blow bubbles while he lies on the changing table. But these things are so minor compared to the changes that have taken place in my mind, in my soul really.