Despite my rather whinging post yesterday, I’ve never been happier. I have covid, I’ve not slept well in some time, things at work are weird, and I’m over the moon very nearly most of the time. The meaning Roby has brought into our lives, the purpose and beauty and responsibility . . . I have less understanding of those poor people who complain about parenthood all the time. 

Parenthood is the greatest thing I believe we can do.

When it’s said that God made us in his image, maybe it’s in terms of our two legs and two eyes and two hands and one heart, off to one side, but now I think it has more to do with us having children and raising them.

Parenthood thus far has not been pleasurable in the way beer is, or pillows are, but it has been the way prayer on a hard day is, or reuniting with a friend after an argument is.

Abby and I used to talk about how we couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else, and that’s true. But further, I feel honored, blessed, far beyond anything I deserve to get to spend my life doing this with her. Especially the hard bits. 

It goes far beyond favorites. 
It’s not like sitting down for dessert and finding your favorite food on the menu. It’s more like never having conceieved of rice pudding and having it served to you.

I wrote that this morning, and now I feel terribly sick,

Sicker than I can remember having felt in some time. Largely adrift in my own guts. But Abby’s on the couch with me and I’m holding on to her like the rock of ages.