Boobs and Poop
Miles life consists of poop, farts, food, butt-nakedness, boobs, and food. Add some loud grunting, crying, whimpering, and cooing, and you have a little brute in your hands. What a wonderful life! Boobs and poop. Yelling. Pooping and yelling and eating—all at the same time! And nakedness! I am so jealous. But what a wonderful boy. Somehow in his baseness he is able to still bring me to my knees. I don’t remember feeling so grateful, inadequate, or elated as I do these days. 
Though I wake up with a deep contentment and joy every single day, I also wake up with a greater dissatisfaction than ever—with the world, with my relationships, with my house, with myself. Do I have what it takes to give this baby what it needs and deserves? Probably not. The world is not good enough, and I am not good enough. Yet at the same time, he is a precious gift to me. Yet he brings tears of joy and love to my face everyday, and I feel like for the first time, the hope of unconditional love is starting to dawn for me—the grumpiest of men. How ironic that a baby can be so base in the way they live their life, doing nothing, just being dependent, needy, honest and pure, yet they can have such a powerful, ineffable effect on others. He is both an overwhelming responsibility and an overwhelming gift.
How can I be base, yet powerful like this baby? I’m nowhere near as cute or chubby, so strike one right off the bat. I tried yelling as I punched grumpies, but that just made my wife laugh and disturbed my neighbors. Expressive pooping doesn’t seem as appropriate now that I’m 33. Yet, I was once a baby, a great gift and heavy responsibility to the world. I still am both (often more the latter). You, too, were once a baby. You were once a great gift and burden to the world. How do you see yourself now? Do you see yourself as a gift or as a burden? Both? I tend to see myself and others as a burden. But in occasional flashes of brilliance and glory, I see myself as a gift. In flashes of enlightenment, I find contentment in being both. Eternal grace and unconditional love are sufficient to cover both you, the burden and you, the gift. How do you see yourself? How do you see others? How do you live really (not just in your head and in words)—as a burden or as a gift? What gets in the way of your seeing yourself as truly as you are?
- How is your baby—whether you have a real one or carry one in your heart? You adult-babies know who you are. We probably all know who you are. Have you listened and learned from your baby?
- Do you connect with your internal baby?
- What keeps you and I from connecting with our internal babies?
- What life and leadership lessons can we learn from this type of living?
- What can we learn about unconditional love from a baby?
- What makes a baby so powerful?
- How can we be base, real, simple, needy, dependent, honest, and pure and powerful?
- How might this type of living serve those around us?
Coming Soon: The Spiritual Discipline of Being an A$$, Rage Redemption, Polish Sausage and Pain, The Baby King, What if you were an Emperor, Dilligent Rest, Scare Tactics.
Glordinary: Making life glorious for the common man 
Hasn’t this journey called parenthood really changed how you use/see/understand the word “amazing”? It truly rocks your world. I will forever be/have my internal baby. P.S. I want that picture of Miles in that hat. He is quite delicious. I love that he’s chubbing up, swollen with all his babylicious glory.
Amazing indeed. Mind blowing. I’ve appreciated all your support from close and afar. I might have to make wallet sizes of the hat pic. It’s just that he gets cuter and cuter everyday and not enough time or picture paper in the Target kiosk. Thanks for reading and commenting.
Thanks for that Marc. I think you know we are expecting a boy in 7 weeks. Your post gave me a lot of hope and excitement.
My pleasure. I love showing him off. I wait eagerly for the new Glesne. Hopefully another thinker like his pops. Thanks for reading and commenting.
I see the peace outfit! So cute! If we act fast, I can squeeze Charlie in to his, and we can take a twin picture…
Maybe you could make it a half shirt or put it around his leg.
I like the idea of “neediness”. It’s tough for me to put myself in a position of need and I think that’s some of the power of the baby. Babies are powerful because they are so needy.
This seems counter-intuitive, right? And it probably does have it’s limits. At some point my needs as well as others simply will not be met. But what’s the point of suppressing, ignoring, or silencing needs that truly exist. Just ’cause I don’t express my neediness doesn’t mean I’m not needy. It just means I’m quiet. Just cause one doesn’t sound and look like a baby doesn’t mean one doesn’t act like one. Wabam! Great comment, Joe.
God unveils himself over time, uncovering our eyes to design behind the routine, and impressing upon on our eye-blink lifetimes the glories of his eternal nature.
Reagan said: “Government is like a baby. An alimentary canal with a big appetite at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other.”
I understand that Baby Power is both the freedom and the burden of infancy. But there’s an aspect of BP that we adults can’t extricate ourselves from is. Unawareness of power–or of need, manipulation, demand, or desire. A baby just *is.*
There are no messages playing in Miles’ head, nothing blocking him from “asking” for what he wants. His only carpet work is to find something that detaches from the fabric that he can put in his mouth. Why would Miles dream of asking, “Do these Huggies make me look fat?”
Yes, Miles and babies definitely seem like a blessing for heaven—purity, contentment, ineffable glory, no self-consciousness. You remind me of how baby power looks like king power. Thanks for you comments, Jim.
I’m thinking, perhaps feeling back to a rudimentary memory. Babies aren’t aware of their need or their burden, but they are aware, to the bass tones of the song of life. The basics are what a baby responds to–heartbeat, comforting tones of voice, gentle touch, warmth, rocking, singing.
Do babies understand that these comforts come from outside themselves? Assuming that the line is at least partially blurred, what does this say? The labors of birth may be a consequence of sin, but the process of birth are from the beginning. Marc, you are relishing the revelation of unconditional love, dependency, innocence. And I peer over your shoulders and marvel at the same.
A baby’s connection with life in the womb simply “always was.” He is surrounded completely by liquid love and comfort, with the assuring rhythm of life near as sound and (I think) pressure.
When I try to fall asleep in a train or car, I give myself over to the vehicle and the vibrations and noises of the road. An in vitro infant knows nothing but surrender to *the way things are.”
After labor, such a different world! What a rude introduction to independence! Fast-forward to the mother’s breast, the father’s made-up songs, the rocking, the goo goos, the showing to new eyes and exaggerated vocalizations. Baby on display. Baby trading hands.
The once all-surrounding darkness of life, warmth of blood and sound of heartbeat. Now…baby with the healthiest of parents feels touch and embrace and body warmth as an exception rather than a rule. All of it sounds so cruel, like jumping into the water at a pool…but self awareness and a yearning for a greater life, a greater outside myself, can compel me.
I have a baby heart, at times. New wonder in the moment. I still like doggy noses and swaying fields of flowers, poetry and strong music, passionate dance and old, sturdy trees. I have taken to lying on my back, watching treetops, cloud formations, birds, rustling leaves. And stars like souls, tens of millions of us cradled or toddling or pogo sticking or running races, stumbling, faltering, withering. Each of us with a primal baby cry that Father drops everything and runs to swoop up and sing over.
I’m learning from you, Jim, just reading and enjoying your comment like swaying trees and the rumbling of a train.