The week that Otis was conceived Mark and I were leading a marriage workshop.
(I need to interrupt myself real quick. Does everyone remember the act of conception? Do you want to share yours in the comments? Of course you do.)
One of the couples at the workshop had kids and asked when we were going to start adding to our family.
“Ha, not any time soon, that’s for sure,” Mark replied while shaking his head at the absurdity of bringing a human into this world.
And the whole time he was acting like someone had asked him when he’d be returning to Hogwarts to get a PhD in wizardry Otis was inside my belly giggling. Small, embryo-sized giggling, but giggling nonetheless.
I share this to let you know just how NOT interested Mark was in the train to Babyville.
The other day I got home from work to a quiet house, just Mark and I. My mom had already picked up Otis because we had clients that night, so it was just us.
“Could you imagine if this is what our life looked like? That we just came home every day to each other and that’s it?” Mark asked.
I’ll be honest, since Mark’s the SAHP I didn’t really know where the questioning was going. Was he gonna suggest that it would be better? That there was something peaceful about the silence?
“No. This place feels empty without him around.”
“I KNOW! Can you imagine how sad this would be? How lonely?”
Well, now I’m getting a tad offended because, um, I’m still here, but whatever. I knew what he was saying. I agreed with what he was saying.
“I’m gonna be so sad when he leaves. I don’t want him to leave,” Mark sniffled. Because he wasn’t crying. NO CRYING TOOK PLACE.
Oh, who am I kidding?
We were sitting in our house that desperately needs to be picked up because we live with the Tasmanian Devil’s cousin, and instead of getting things done we were sitting on the couch in a puddle of tears thinking about how much we love our little boy and that we’re going to be distraught when (if?) he ever moves out.
“We aren’t going to want him here forever. I’m sure we’ll be ready for him to go eventually,” I said as I wiped away tears.
“No, I really don’t think I’ll ever want him to leave,” Mark said as he DID NOT wipe away tears.
“Yeah, I don’t want him to go either. But maybe we’ll change our mind. But maybe that’s why God made the teenage years. To annoy us enough that we’ll be all ‘Get out of here already!'”
Mark didn’t look convinced.
I think I know why Mark is so (not at all) weepy. It’s because Otis is finally talking and laughing at things he thinks are funny (like this video) and communicating opinions about what he wants to eat and wear and play with. Because he knows that he shouldn’t say “Crap”, but he does it anyways. Because he shakes his tail feather in the most hilarious way ever. Because he wants to race everyone. Because if you play with his toys he’ll ask for a “trade”.
Because he isn’t a baby any more. He’s our little boy.
And the weirdest thing is happening. Our hearts are filled up in an entirely new way now, but they’re also breaking because it feels like we’re saying goodbye to one of the happiest times in our life. We’re thrilled with who our little guy is, but sad that every day this party is getting closer to over.
But I have to say that looking across the living room and seeing my non-weepy husband mourn the passing of the Baby Era made me realize just how thankful I am to be on this ride with him.
And to never miss an opportunity to strike.
“So. You ready for number two, yet?”