A few days after we brought Desmond home from the hospital, John and I were doting on him as he slept. We sat there in silence staring at our newest family member, the one that made us even more officially a family now united in blood, tired but happy.
John broke our silence. “It’s like I have a crush on him,” he said. I chuckled and thought it was an incredibly sweet thing to say and the love I had for my husband, the one that started with a crush as most of them do, got a little deeper. Yes, that is exactly what it’s like, I agreed. It’s like we have a crush on him.
It might seem a little ridiculous to compare the unconditional and incomparably deep love a parent has for his or her child to a crush, and our emotions were definitely a little wonky in those early days of new parenthood, but still, I think it’s right on. Babies make you do things you may not have done in a really long time. They awaken a giddiness that’s reminiscent of a grade school crush. They make you a little wacky in the head and make cartoon hearts fly out of your ears the way only infatuation can.
When I’m not with Desmond, I spend much of my day looking through pictures of him, zooming up on my favorites over and over again. I chuckle thinking of the funny things we did yesterday or how silly it was when he did this or that. I swoon when he says my name, Mummmm, and melt into a puddle when he greets me with ear to ear smiles when I walk into the room.
He’s pretty much all I talk about. All my stories that aren’t even about him at first, usually circle back to him. My girlfriends with crushes (kids) of their own don’t seem to mind. They talk about their crushes all the time too.
If I was still covering my books in brown paper bags, I would definitely doodle I heart Desmond 4-Eva and Mom + Des all over the thing. I wouldn’t even do it in pencil in case I changed my mind. My crush would be made public in a permanent marker kind of way.
The best part of this crush is that I can share it and I don’t get jealous. John and I get to crush over the same kid. He gets how gaga I am over this boy and he matches my craziness with crushing crazies of his own. There’s a lot of co-gushing and co-beaming, and we are co-cool with that. It’s pretty safe to say, we got it bad.