Wow. Can't believe the kid is three months old. Can't believe how much he's changed in that time. It's incredible. And he's learned so much in such a short period of time too. He's already got the beginnings of a little crawl going on — it's more like a snail/slug scooting along (and yes, he leaves a slimy trail of drool), but still, it's locomotion.
I've learned a lot too. And, I thought, on this, the day after his three-month mark, I'd give my kiddo some props for the things he's taught me. Things that go above and beyond just changing diapers or warming bottles to the perfect temperature.
So here are some things Wilder has taught me in his first months of life:
1. How to stretch a REALLY good stretch. It takes your whole body, and you have to make that face — pooching out your lips and getting your nose and mouth all contorted — that makes you look really goofy. But it feels so good, who cares what it looks like? I'd actually forgotten how nice it feels to put your whole mind and body behind a stretch until I saw my kid do it. I think as adults we forget these things; same thing with yawning. We yawn self-consciously so we don't make a funny-looking face, when it's the funny-looking face that is part of getting the job done.
2. Burping with gusto. OK, anyone who really knows me knows that I never un-learned this. But what I've learned is that it doesn't matter how big your body is. Wilder weighs less than 15 pounds and the kid burps like a guy named Tiny in a pool hall who's just polished off a rack of ribs and a six-pack. Huge, hearty, from-the-diaphragm belches. It's SO COOL.
3. How to smile with your whole face. As adults, we don't let our delight in life shine through our eyes like babies and children do. We should change that.
4. Wilder has taught me that some things are worth stretch marks, six extra pounds of flab and one giant scar. I spent the better part of two decades before having him sucking in my stomach. Now it's my badge of honor and my badge of love. Do I want it to go away? Yes, and I'm working on that. Do I care a wit as much about it as I would have before Wilder came into my life? Not even close.
5. Improvisation and inventiveness. Being a parent, mom or dad, makes you into a mini-MacGyver. You will rig up ANYTHING that will make your kid happy or make him stop crying for even 10 seconds. Your mind will do flips trying to figure something out. You will pretend to be a taking hippotomus. I never knew how many voices I had in my repertoire. I never knew I'd be unself-conscious enough to use them all in front of total strangers. "Who cares if that guy thinks I'm nuts??? Look at my kid — he's SMILING!"
6. And the given: LOVE. This one makes me cry, because contained in how much I love my own son is realizing how much my mom loved me. She's been gone five years now, and I feel like in the past three months I've learned a world of things about her, first and foremost being how much she loved me and my siblings. It's indescribable and unfathomable how much you love your own children until you have them. It's cliche, but really true. I would turn the world inside out and tie it in a knot for this kid. I'd grow horns if it would make him laugh. I'd wear plaid pants with a polka dotted shirt in public to make him happy. And, of course, I'd smote anyone who tried to lay a hand on him.
Anyway, that's probably about all. Thanks Wilder for being such a good teacher and wonderful baby. MWAH!
Just thought I'd post this pic of a zonked-out Wilder and I at my work's annual bowling party this past Friday. Sure proves that babies can sleep through just about anything, including 14-lb. balls being hurtled toward — and even sometimes hitting — bowling pins. 
