It's nearly 3:00...

in the afternoon. I've eaten nothing but a piece of toast today. I think I brushed my teeth earlier, but I can't be sure. The load in the dryer has been there since, oh, Tuesday? Not sure on that either. But it is dry. I think. But, see... I'm in love. When you're in love, you forget to eat. You care more about time with that person than keeping up with the laundry. Or, in some extreme cases, brushing your teeth. Maybe not that last one. But the Object of My Affection, well, he doesn't care about my breath. Or clean underwear. Or fresh towels. Because he loves me too. A lot. In fact, he loves just about everybody. Especially his pappy. And milk. Oh, how he adores milk. Would you like to meet him?

Yes, I am in love with Leo. He is a dream in diapers. A sweetie in spit. A doll in drool. A treat in tennies. A blessing in blankies. A love in layette. A wonder in one-sies.

I came across an amazing woman's blog today. Her 18-month old daughter drowned in a canal this summer. This woman's writing was full of faith. As I read, I held my son and kissed his cheeks, wiped his bubbles, squeezed his tummy. Someone asked her what would she have done differently if she had to do it over again. She said she would have kept better journals of her time with her baby. I felt, how do you say, pricked. Right in the heart. I have spent four amazing months day in and day out with my son, and I don't want to forget a moment of it. Already it passes too quickly.

He is a joy. I don't know how to say it any more or any better than that. He. Is. A. Joy. A delight. So full of love for his parents. So grateful for every diaper and feeding. So ready with a smile. He is precious above all that is precious. He has redefined my existence. He is, if it is not too bold to say, the measure of my creation. He is the manifestation of God's love for His children. He is the sun, the moon, the stars. He is the universe. He is, to quote someone more eloquent than I, my heart beating outside of my body. It is the greatest honor of my life to be Leo's mama. Honestly.

And his father?! Well, that's an entirely lengthy prose worthy of its own post. Luis has been amazing, to say the least. He adores his son. He adores me. I am blessed. And deeply, deeply grateful. And that, my friends, is where happiness resides. Here on Lincoln Street, with Tres Bonillas completely in love.