Oliver is 6 months old!

Yesterday marked 6 months since Oliver was born! I can hardly believe it! The start of another person. It's been such an amazing experience for both me and Matt. We still sometimes can't believe he's ours. We stand over his crib, a resting place for his innocence, and watch him sleep, a hobby we find ourselves obsessively practicing. We oogle over his breathing and the position of his arms. Oh look at that! Look at how he breathes! Look, he's still breathing, thank God! We admit his cuteness, not believing for one moment that his it stems from either of us.

And he's such a happy baby! Passerbys profess his blissful joie de vivre. Secretly, I take credit for that; I will continue to do so until baby #2 arrives, screaming and fighting his world. I'm holding out for hope that if we do have baby #2, he will be just as sweet, and I can continue to think I had something to do with his state of being.

At least we haven't screwed him up too much, yet. It's impossible to imagine temper tantrums, altho I've seen glimpses of what that might be like. He does occasionally have an attitude. But that's usually after about 4 long, boring hours of shopping... stuck in the stroller under fluorescents, wanting to be home sucking on a remote just like his father. Oh well.

He is now my raison d'être. I believe I get more out of rocking him to sleep than he does. That's when I take a moment to breathe, to let the hours pass, knowing that nothing outside the nursery matters. Inside with him it's quiet, still, peaceful. I stare and watch him sleep. My love. My little, little love.