different every day

Gavin seems to be changing at such a fast pace that something is different every day. Each day he is a little more interactive and responsive to us. Every day his coos are a little different and richer with subtle sounds. Each day he is closer to laughing. Jason swears that he has laughed already. Sometimes I think he has, too, but I think until we hear that unmistakable sound that leaves no room for doubt, we're not going to say he has laughed his first laugh.

Speaking of his coos, Gavin just loves it when we say "nn-guuhh" at him. That makes him smile and almost-laugh so much. Sometimes it's enough even to bring him out from fussiness into smiliness. And speaking of what he loves, I am amused now by my new perspective from the parent side of things. Before he was born, I would read or hear about parents saying their baby just loved this or that, and I would secretly scoff at the idea that a baby could love anything. Now I can't explain exactly why I felt that way; any reasoning for that opinion is long gone, replaced with a firm certainty that babies absolutely can and do love certain things. They have preferences and likes and things they don't like so much and they can, without a doubt, express those preferences.

Come to think of it, a baby's capacity to love, period, was something of a mystery to me before experiencing it first-hand. Somehow, the concept of love must have been tied, subconsciously in my mind, to the ability to deliberately verbally or physically express said love, and hence, babies obviously couldn't really love you. What they did instead I don't think I ever really got around to thinking about. I can't imagine I thought they were without any feelings of love. But now I know unequivocably that babies can and do love. You just know, looking at your baby, that there is love there. The trust they have in you that you will feed and comfort and care for them? That's love. The way they smile at you when you jiggle a pair of socks in front of them? That's love. The way they look up into your eyes with their own tear-stained eyes when you have just helped them pass a particularly painful bubble of gas? That's love. I'll never again doubt that babies can love or think that they cannot express it.