Malcolm's drink. My drink.
It's coincidence that I write this on Valentine's Day, I swear. And yeah, that's a "holiday" for relationship love, and not so much for other kinds of love, but, well, it's in the air, or so they say. And that being said....
There is no love like what I have for Malcolm, or extrapolating, like what a parent has for a child (and I think Pam feels the same way).
Last weekend I said to her, "If I'd known it was going to be like this, I'd have wanted to do it sooner. But then, we might not have had Malcolm."
She agreed, saying, "Yeah, he's what makes it perfect."
"Everything in its right place. Everything in its right time."
And of course this love is going to be different from the love of siblings, the love of friends, the love of lovers, and the love of couples. But it's not just different, it's mad, crazy, wicked awesome, spin-me-round like a record player, big-wow-finish of the fireworks on the 4th of July different. Looking down on him sleeping in his crib in the semi-darkness of his still room, his fists balled and arms raised up by his head like he's cheering, his face turned to the side in a series of plump, curved lines like Hitchcock's silhouette, his growing body pushing against his clothes, and all of it punctuated by the occasional stuttering grunt that accompanies a contorted, back-bending stretch, it is very hard not to be awed by his perfection. All you want is for his life to be full of happiness and success and love and goodness. And even though you know it won't be perfect, that there will be disappointments, that yours isn't the charmed storybook you dreamed of, that doesn't make you want it any less for him.
The way that he turns and looks at you and his face lights up with recognition. Then he smiles and laughs and shakes his hands at you and speaks a word of baby-talk gibberish. Gibberish that you can't help but be pleased with and repeat back to him, hoping that he'll keep going and that the next sound will actually be a word.
Almost every day, he does something new or different. Watching him grow and develop is probably the most fascinating science project ever. He'll get fussy and start to cry (luckily there have been very few of the big, loud, holy crap screams) and we get to try and figure out what's upsetting him, and can we stop it before it's too late. It's kinda like CSI: Baby.
I'm not here to proselytize. I'm not here to criticize. But if you ever thought about having a kid, I do recommend it.
Malcolm had his first doctor visit this past Tuesday. It was the 2 month visit. He weighed 12 lbs 10 ozs, up 4 lbs 11 ozs since birth. He had grown from 20 3/4" to 23 1/4", up 2 1/2". That's a better-than-average growth rate so he's clearly getting enough nourishment.
There was definitely some trepidation with this visit because it's typically when the kiddos get the first round of vaccinations. To vaccinate or not to vaccinate, and if so, when to do it, is a hot-button topic in parenting and child care. Just this week, a vaccine court (!) ruled on a family claiming vaccines gave their child autism (not proven by the science). There are questions regarding the ingredients of some vaccines, the schedule proposed by the government, and the potential reactions of the still-developing immune systems.
We've decided that we'll be giving him the vaccines, but not at the recommended schedule. He can grow a little more before we get started. Many of the vaccines are things he won't face (polio) or he can get the illness and then lifelong immunity or get the vaccine which won't last his whole life (rotavirus, chicken pox). There are kids who have adverse reactions to vaccines and reading their stories will break your heart, but it's generally in the 5% range, not more than 10% (according to what we read). The numbers have been good to us so far (knock wood), and after much reading of a variety of sources, have decided to go on and do it. Might something still happen? Sure, and we'll deal with that if it does. But until then....