I've come to the conclusion that there is nothing like the eyes of a baby. They look around in wide wonder at this new world into which God has sent them. I love the way that my daughter fixes her eyes on me while I'm feeding her. I also love the way that I can see her mother in those eyes.
I've come to the conclusion that there is nothing like the lips of a baby. They mirror those of the parents so much. I love the way that my daughter smiles for no reason whatsoever. I also love the way that her lips move through a number of different appearances, from the pucker of my mother's kiss to the pushed-out bottom jaw of my maternal grandfather who died in 1996.
There is an old saying with regard to babies . . . "My finger may be small, but I can still wrap my daddy around it." Until I first held my daughter in my arms, I didn't understand that saying. But I definitely understand it now. And I wouldn't trade anything else in the world for it.