A Pilfered Post

So my husband is fast asleep next to me, which is understandable given that it's midnight. If I don't initiate getting ready and going to bed, he will always fall asleep on the couch next to me, or even occasionally sprawled out on the floor. I think it's because he just wants an excuse to sleep on the couch and avoid getting ready for bed. He claims it's because he just wants to be near me until I'm ready to go upstairs with him. "But," he adds, "I do love to sleep on the couch."

Since this exchange is about the closest thing to romance in our relationship, I will try to stick with his explanation.

ANYWHO...I'm going to use his current state of unconsciousness to violate his privacy. (Get your mind out of the gutter!) I was cleaning out old blog drafts tonight when I came upon a partial post he wrote when Emerson was about three months old. It's so endearing that I'm going to share it without asking. You may think that's a horrible thing to do, but I'd like to draw your attention to the joke he makes about me in the end. Enough said.

"Every so often while carrying Emerson in my arms, I'll look over to find him already staring at me with this intrigued expression on his face. More than his hardy little laugh or his high-pitched songs - and even more than his face-eating attacks, those split seconds of catching him staring at me are my favorite times with him.

Suddenly I'm reminded that, oh crap, this is what it's all about. I suppose I sometimes lose sight of the fact that he's not just this little mini-me that's going to one day be an adult. Every little thing I do with him, around him, shoot even not around him... from the day he was born, nearly every action of mine is going to influence him in some way. Is this what I signed up for???

I don't know how I managed to float past this concept so easily. On a nearly daily basis I find something about myself that reminds me of one of my parents. A mannerism of my dad, an opinion of my mom's, a silly phrase of my step-dad's. I constantly wonder out of both fear and excitement what traits the Kid will have due to having me as a father.

When friends and family first learned of me becoming a father, the general reply was, "Poor kid." I knew it was all fun, and I joked along with them. But seriously... when conversations with old friends turn to stupid/crazy things we've done, my list is pretty much always the longest. And now I'm being charged to raise another one of me?

On a side note, here's a quick list of things I'll be sure to teach him NOT to do:

- Play leap-frog with a unicorn (ouch!)
- Listen to Kenny-G, John Tesh, or Yanni
- Be sure that if he marries an Ex-Mormon, she was at least properly trained to be a good Mormon wife (cook, sew, obey)
- Make jokes on the internet about his wife and the fastest growing religion in the world."

When Robbie talks about "face-eating," this is what he meant: