Diaper Duty, etc.

One of the best things in the world is watching a father change his child's diaper, especially when that father is Joel and the child is one of mine. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that it means I am not the one getting my hands dirty, but I know it is actually much more than that. It is the reflexive satisfaction of seeing a grown man bend to a child's level and perform a task that is somewhat delicate and generally more than unpleasant. It is watching his hands, large and gallant, soothe sore bottoms reassuringly. And, it is listening to the sure, familiar voice discuss the goings on of the day--about the doggies we'll all see, the balls we'll kick, and the pine cones we'll gather.

But most of all, it is seeing the father's affectionate gaze reflected in the iridescent love of the child's complete and utter adoration.

Now that is something I'll never get tired of seeing.

...and then, I'll be roused from my dreaminess by a thrown spoon, crayon on the wall, or a tearful tantrum. So I'll tuck my perfect little dreamy jewels away for those moments I feel like throwing my own tantrum, and they'll remind me that while motherhood is its own spine-tingling roller coaster, the ups are always there to outshine the downs--if I only remember where to look.