I've been a bit distracted lately. Having a tough time concentrating. Finding it hard to get any work done.
I'll tell you why: I've been babygazing.
It's addictive.
Once you start, it's almost impossible to stop.
Especially when the baby is a newborn nephew, four days old.
Especially when his skin is so soft and tender that running your fingers across it feels like discovering a brand new texture. Like the insides of a rose petal, only far more delicate. Like a raindrop feels when it slides across your cheek.
His elbows are the diameter of my thumb. His ears are tiny snails curled against his downy head.
Every move he makes is more riveting than a blockbuster; I could watch him for hours. He folds his hands into fists and holds them against his ears while he peers cautiously around the room. He is an explorer recently landed in a foreign country. He doesn't know the language yet, but he listens carefully, blinking in surprise as the teakettle sings or the dog barks. From time to time, he makes faint mewling noises and wrinkles his nose. On the rare occasions that he cries, the thin, translucent skin of his eyelids turns a deep crimson.
Sometimes, while he's sleeping, his eyebrows knot into an expression of dismay. What could possibly be wrong, baby? Other times he smiles, as if he's enjoying a private joke. Tell us all about it!
Shh! His breath is like the smallest wave on the ocean. It goes in :: whoosh :: it goes out.
I'll be back.
As soon I'm finished babygazing.
