He seems to have only fleeting moments of recognition, a shadow from above, voices, somewhat identifiable, inexplicable highs and lows. Sometimes his cries result in his wish being answered, other times not. Driven by the overwhelming instincts to eat and sleep and be warm and clean, he will soon embark on the challenge of discovering you can't always get what you want. But one way or the other, if you cry, what you need seems to get supplied. Most of the time. And when not there is nothing worse, and no explanation. But he has to choose to trust anyways.
He sounds familiar, right?
1 comment:
until we have faces...er...until we have toilet training.
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