I was going to write this really mushy post about unconditional love and then nixed it. I'm just too private of a person to put those thoughts on here for all (I know... not as many people care as I think) to read. However, I do want to say that watching my little son sleep in my arms makes me understand a lot more about it then I used to. At this point my little boy loves me like no other. He doesn't care if I'm pretty or fat, if I've brushed my teeth or showered. He is unaware of my body odor when I forget deodorant and thinks the sounds my farts (sorry, it's the best word for them) make are funny. He doesn't know that I have two bachelor degrees or that I no longer make one single cent. His world is filled with cuddles and eating and wriggling little body parts. His joys are mirrors and being thrown in the air and the terrifyingly exciting tickle monster. Some day when the world gets to him he will care about all the silly things we all care too much about, but until then, I will snuggle my sleeping baby and bask in his unconditional love.
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