My son is always in varying states of inebriation & comatose.
He eats & drinks like a champ (to him, those are the same things).
He cries furiously in demand for a feeding & abruptly gulps his meal. It’s a dangerous thing, infantile spit-up but at least I don’t have a projectile vomiter on my hands.
He can completely drench his and my clothes in an embarrassing mom-didn’t-pack-extra-clothes display.
All of this I am okay with. Because he smiles now. And that little gummy, drooling smile is worth all the milk stained blouses and seemingly strategic wet spots on my pants.
I don’t even care if his smile isn’t quite “social” yet. A reflexive one is good enough for me.
