I feel like I can’t live each moment enough - they pass too quickly (unlike the time away from him, which draws out like sludge). I think most people (including myself) have had a fantasy where they have the ability to stop time. And I think most people would likely use it to acquire possessions (whatever they may be). I would watch my son sleep.

His face provides endless fascination. Every tic and shudder and apparent smile, causes a physical response from me…usually I (reflexively) mirror him with amused exaggeration: He frowns a little, I frown a lot, overcome with empathy. He smiles a little and I have to use all my strength to keep from bursting into nearly hysterical laughter.

He has no thoughts of me. He is almost strictly an instinctual creature at this point, controlled exclusively by every immediate impulse. Every stimulus brings forth an instantaneous reaction: he’s cold, he trembles; he eats, he farts; he’s hungry, he cries. It’s a life that’s about as truly Zen as anyone can ever live – he’s “in the moment” at every moment. He has no memory of (or attachment to) the past, and no concept of the future. Everything…EV-REE-THING…requires immediate attention. He lives in the moment not because he’s trained his mind to let go of all attachments; but because for him “the moment” is all that exists.

He’ll outgrow it relatively soon. He’ll develop a sense of the past (and thus the future) when he figures out, for example, that certain noises from him garner certain responses from us, or when he recognizes that lunch is served at a certain time. For right now we live in, as the nurse put it, an “on demand world” centering exclusively on his needs. He will develop and grow and learn that he can put off his hunger for a few minutes and he won’t starve to death so he doesn’t have to scream bloody murder (I’m just saying).

He’ll learn to wait and anticipate. He’ll learn to walk and read and shit in a toilet (though I’m not quite sure in what order…though I’m pretty sure Penny knows).

But right now all that exists is the very second that is…and there aren’t nearly enough of them.