For a moment today life came to a perfect standstill. I'd just fed the baby and put him to bed; I was sitting on the old futon couch just a few feet from his crib. I listened to him sigh and grunt a little as he put himself to sleep.
I was thinking to myself--various random thoughts. "Seven months old, still. How nice to have a seven-month-old baby and how quickly it'll pass. He'll be eight months before I know it. How wonderful it is when he leans his full weight against me, already almost asleep, as I lift him and carry him to his bed. How nice to feel his heavy chin balanced against my shoulder, just before I lay him in his crib. How extraordinary all of it is, really."
As I said, various random thoughts, nothing very profound. But as I sat there in the dark, listening to him, I felt completely still and quiet. It felt something like happiness.
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