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I expected to want to record every second of her babyhood but I've found it doesn't necessarily make great reading. Days are fairly routine; eating, sleeping, smiling, laughing, puking. I often come to Blogger with a nonsense post and give up in favor of reading "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" or "Aliens Love Underpants" to her.
Since I spend most of my afternoons with the Prawn just surfing around the internet, I usually try to have something vaguely intelligent on television to keep me company. (The Prawn doesn't watch, but she listens, so I have to make sure that what she's listening to doesn't suck.) The last few weeks, I've been going back though the third and fourth seasons of The West Wing, one of my favorite shows of all time. (And I'd just assume that if the Prawn has to listen to something, it's a script written by Aaron Sorkin.) At the end of the Fourth Season, Toby Zigler, the rather prickly White House Communications Director, and his ex wife have twins, conceived through IVF, on the same night that the President's daughter is taken hostage by Muslim extremists. In a rare moment of downtime, Toby gets to discuss the birth with Chief of Staff, Leo McGarry.
TOBY: I think I was nervous I wasn’t gonna love my kids… the way other fathers love theirs.
LEO: Why?
TOBY: I don’t know. If, for nine months, you’re hearing how this is gonna change your life, and: “You’ve never loved anything like this,” and, “My God, the love” and, “Nothing’s gonna be important anymore.” It just never really felt to me like I was someone who had the capacity for those feelings. Plus, you know, I… I like what’s important to me. I want it to stay important. I, uh…I wanna be able to do it well.
LEO: What do you mean, you don’t have the capacity?
TOBY: (pauses) Anyway, I was just curious.
LEO:Of course you’re gonna be a great father. Of course you’re gonna love your kids the way you’re supposed to, the way other fathers…
TOBY: My God, Leo, we look around, we see that’s not true. It’s not automatic.
LEO: I’m not talking about everybody. I’m talking about you and I’m telling ya, it’s a mortal lock. It’s guaranteed.
I'd been looking for just that sentiment before the Prawn was born. I was terrified that I wasn't going to get that "mommy" thing. That, even after all the heartbreak, I'd look at this pink blob and just go, "Okay."
The Prawn is looking at me right now, moving her mouth up and down and making noises that could best be described as a turtle chewing bubble gum.
It's a mortal lock.