. . . and the baby knows it
My thoughts this time of night seem to center around the youngest. It wasn't always this way. I remember being centered on my wife. Maybe when the kids move out.
Tonight's observation centers around the fact that the baby can come into the house in her mother's arms and flash a smile that could reboot a linux server. She giggles and coos and I am in love again. So I take her in my arms (the baby) and give her a smile in return.
And she cries. I check to see if she is dry. Check. Has she been fed? Yep. Burped? With spit-up! So everything is fine. It's just me; I'm not the Mom