Thursday, December 26, 2013

Isaiah Jedi

I just wrote half of this post, and then accidentally deleted it. I kind of want to punch my computer in the face. Since I can't do that, I'm going to abbreviate my first post about my son, Isaiah Jedi Smith.

I posted it on Facebook, and I think he has one of the coolest names ever. Isaiah means 'Salvation of God'. Jedi is short for Jedidiah, which means 'Beloved by God'. But let me stop lying. I was thinking about Star Wars when I picked it out. My wife agree to it over a year ago. I spent the last year reminding her she agreed, and she spent the time trying to get out of her deal. She lost. A Jedi is also a guardian of peace and justice in the galaxy, as defined by George Lucas and Star Wars. Smith, is a generic name of a worker or craftsman. My son is 'saved by God', 'Beloved by God', and sanctioned to save and protect the galaxy. Go, kid. Go!

But that's not the first thing I think about when I look at my son. Most babies are really ugly. Their heads are shaped weird, they have a strange color, and they smell like hell. But not my son. I know everyone says their baby is gorgeous. I fully expected him to look like a #SNL #Conehead, but he doesn't. Everyone we talk to, says Isaiah is gorgeous, and better looking than their own babies. That's nuts. But true. He's my son, he's got to be a hottie.

I frequently look at Isaiah, and can't believe that I helped make this little person. We picked a name, and now he's gonna be called that for the rest of his life. It's crazy. I can't believe God let us have this responsibility. This little maniac is now not just my offspring. He's part of all of my family, and part of all of Kate's family. Nurses and doctors were waiting for his first passed gas, to make sure his digestion was healthy. He farted literally, 30 seconds after I did, in my sleep.How crazy is that? Even newborn and asleep, we fart together. And he sleeps the same way I do. Talking, flailing, and rolling around like a maniac.

It makes no sense, but I'm getting used to it, somehow. I don't understand how he knows me. I don't understand how he figures out how to nurse. I especially don't understand how he likes Kate and I. But he likes us, and he knows that he loves us. I'll take it, and I'll hug him until I squish him.

Poor dog. Pepper Potts is jealous..

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