I should probably stop gushing over how much I love my little man. On second thought, no I shouldn’t. I’m probably going to make you sick telling you how much I love him and adore him and enjoy being around him.

I love to watch him be active and awake. Whether he’s playing in his pack and play while we work in the kitchen; sitting on the living room floor playing with his play sets; bouncing in his jumper-roo; sitting in his stroller watching the world as we take a walk; or watching anyone that’s holding him and loving on him.

The beauty of his face melts my heart as his eyes just look at everything and you can see it’s all still new to him. His smile when he sees us playing with him or someone makes him laugh brings such a smile to my face it sometimes hurts. 🙂

But what really melts my heart with this little guy is the end of the day. There’s just something about holding him at night as he’s trying to fall asleep. Sure, many nights he’ll fight the sleep, tossing and turning, flipping and flopping around, doing everything he can to stay awake.

But I just hold him tight and close, and his body finally realizes it’s expended too much energy. And suddenly it’s like a light switch, on one minute, then suddenly off. I love the sound of his sleeping breath against my neck and shoulder, the feel of his little arms wrapping around my arm or neck, his legs wrapping around my (still ample) stomach.

And I realize why this moment seems so special to me. It’s because at this moment in his life, I am not just dadda. I’m his comfort, I’m his protector. I’m the one thing in the universe to him that makes him feels safe, warm, and secure. It’s so hard to want to put him in his crib when all I want to do is hold him all night long.

I love being a dad.