something magical happened to me recently.
I knew it was coming - you could even say I'd made it happen. but it caught me unawares in the intensity of it, the smallness, the sweetness, the aww of it. suddenly every storyline in every sappy movie that involved a baby - oh, a baby... - had me cooing like a pigeon. every sticky little mitten, each formerly sacharine-sounding word to describe these creatures was suddenly capable of reducing me to a pile of goo. "precious," "angel," "pumpkin pie" (that was the night nurse's way of not learning any babies' names: "and how are mommy and daddy and little pumkin' pie?" she'd ask at 3 am...)
it's been quite a ride, and it's just getting started, and I'm loving it so deeply. I think irony is dead, at least on this blog, at least for the time being.
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