There are certain pictures of both Jake and Nate that just melt my heart… a phrase that seems particularly overused in the female social media sphere. I’ve never seen a guy I know post a comment like, “Oh, my heart melts.” I bet Jerry Seinfeld could do miraculous things with that little observation. In any case, the metaphor is just so apt.
And when I spend a lot of time with my boys, I just can’t help but attempt to cradle them with their long, gangly limbs and their sharp knees and elbows. If I touch foreheads with Jakey, I get the perfect view of his face that takes him back to his two-year-old self. It’s like when I put hats on them both. Something about covering-up their hair that transports their faces back to when they were bald, pint-sized pipsqueaks.
Recently Nate’s been trying to comfort me in my inevitable and cliché realization that they’re growing-up too fast. He consoles me by saying, “Mommy, I’m always Baby Nate. I am Baby Nate because I’m Nate.”
And I say, “Yes, I know.”
And then he says, “And you’ll always be Baby Mama…”
“MmmHmmm…”
“…and Daddy is always Baby Daddy.”
What I still see when we touch foreheads…