I'm an uncle, again (two more on the way in July and October). The 3.5 kilo baby girl on the left was born to my cousin next door yesterday and remains unnamed. The top contender is Othoi (tr: deep, endless, without bottom)
Before I joined my current job, I was not fond of babies that much. Quoting Bonnie Marcus., my college admissions director, "who wants to study for 16-20 years only to spend his/her adult life going ga-ga-goo-goo?" At that point it made sense.
Having a nephew next door, several nephews and nieces abroad and my current job in newborn care has changed my perspective. Babies, in my mind, are the ultimate manifestation of love.
Babies are magical. It doesn't matter if they are products of lust or love or impaired judgment. They are born confident that they will be loved, regardless of looks, skin color, shape, size, social background, education, earning potential, trust fund. They know that they'll be loved for themselves, and will not have to keep trying to get it. And they spread love -generously, unconditionally and without remorse. There's always more where that came from.
In order to be loved in adult reality, I have to stay in the same city, stay in shape, stay knowledgeable, stay polite, loving and supportive. It's a crap shoot, since no matter how much love I feel or send, sometimes it's just not enough.
I like the newborn realm. I hold someone in my arm. They barely move their neck to adjust to my elbow groove. I tear up. A connection is made. Love may not last forever here either, and boy do they grow up fast! But for now, love is all around.
