{job descriptions}

When Avram cries--I mean, really cries--he looks exactly like one of those Hawaiian tiki statues. The resemblance is uncanny. This makes it incredibly hard not to laugh when he's balling his eyes out, which I'm sure would automatically disqualify me from winning Mother of the Year any time soon.

During the school year, Team Beer has a pretty solid daily routine. When J comes home from work, I'm on Dinner Duty and he is in charge of Baby Bath & Bed Time. He frequently challenges my firm rule of bathing Ave everyday, basing his case on the fact that he only washes his hair every other day, so a baby couldn't possibly need bathed more frequently than that. I remind him that if he threw up green beans all over his face and pooped his pants multiple times a day, he would also require a nightly hosing off. We debate this frequently.

Feeding the little man solids has been a real treat. He is just completely surrendered to abandon when he's eating. He lets banana juice freely roll down his face and into his neck-fat creases, like how I imagine Grampa Joad planned to when he finally arrived in the land of milk and honey.

I am still learning, day by day, to let go of all these fears I keep hidden in the secret parts of me, holding me back from living in the moment and allowing me to be content. Especially when I watch Avram laugh. He just started to giggle this week: in a low, Woody the Woodpecker kind of way. He smiles when I wake him up from his naps, smiles while eating peas, smiles after filling his diaper, laughs when water splashes his face in the tub. I am reminded a thousand times a day to have not just the faith of a child, but the joy of a child. To let the juices roll freely down my face, to let the water get in my eyes. I am reminded that joy is not dependent on my circumstances. I am reminded that it is not my job to worry; it is my job to love.

So love, I will do.