Perfect Parker

Parker is the love of my life. He is my simply beautiful 18 month old boy. He is right now sitting on my lap pulling my iPod earphone out of my ear and bopping along to the Pixies with me. I love all my kids this way - when they are babies (under 2) I am consumed with an all encompassing love, a love so strong I literally want to eat them up. This sounds so odd - I even like the way his farts smell. I have great pleasure in knowing that I'm the only one in the world who knows intimately exactly who passed gas and whether or not his inner-workings are healthy. He's so pure and innocent. His mostly breastfed body has nothing old or smelly in it. It's all just pure and perfect. Like him.

I read Ayelet Waldman's article in the NYT about loving her husband more than her children. At first I was jealous, really jealous that she was having lots of sex and I am NOT. But, I could.

I love my children more than anything in the whole world. My life completely revolves around them, my sun, moon and stars. They are perfect. I have nightmares about losing them, having them all fall in an icy lake at the same time. Overcome with terror at trying to save them all. When I wake, heart pounding, I have to go and kiss each one in their sleep. Hug little Parker, who sleeps with me, a little tighter. I cherish my kids, my life. I feel sad that Ayelet doesn't feel that.

Parker