I meant to mark the occasion, but the first anniversary of purple punch buggy slipped by me on October 30. I was probably busy playing with Alexander. That's my excuse.
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Alex started teething a couple of days ago. He's very cranky. And apparently this can go on for months and months. I sure hope not. At least it seems to be episodic - he gave us about 12 hours' break from it over the last two days, during which time he was back to his happy smiling self.
We're prepared (teething gel, Panadol, ice cubes wrapped in cloth to chew on). But it's tough when he's cranky. I really hope it doesn't go on and on and on.
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I finally finished the page for Mooxil. I also submitted it to www.tucows.com, where it received a 4-cow rating out of 5. Not bad, huh? If you haven't played it yet, do me a favour and try it. And then send it to everyone you know. Oh all right, just send it to everyone who might be interested. If you send it to everyone, I'll get accused of promoting spam. And Mooxil is not spam. Mooxil is fun.
Ten million people can't be wrong.
Oh all right, ten people can't be wrong (maybe nine, actually. Or even fewer.).
Just try it.
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I haven't looked very seriously for work yet, but from what I've seen, there really isn't much out there. So far I've only found one job worth applying for. It's kind of discouraging, but at least I get to spend lots of time with Alex.
We're off to visit Alex's grandparents in California next week, so I'm not going to search full time until we get back, possibly even waiting until after the holidays. Hopefully by then there will actually be some jobs worth wanting.
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Sometimes when I look at Alex I still can't believe he's mine. I see the future in him, in his little hands, in his little bones, in his cheeky smile. The way he snuggles into me when I hold him, it just makes me melt. The love of a child is a special thing.
I gaze at him and think about the many hats I have worn, and sometimes still wear: son, student, bicyclist, dreamer, backpacker, writer, volleyballer, engineer, husband. Father. I think, is fatherhood supposed to descend on you like a ton of bricks? Or does it grow around you slowly, almost imperceptibly - in spite of the fact that you've got a child, does it take days, weeks, months, even years before you wake up and realise in your bones that you're a dad? My bones are lucky. I know this much. I have read that some fathers lament the fact that it takes longer for them to bond with their children because they spend every day away at work. I am unemployed, but I am lucky. I know this much. I don't want to go back to work. I'd rather stay home with Alexander. Even if he's teething and cranky.
I guess that makes me a father.
I love my kid, you know.