1,300 miles and 24 hours in the car and he made nary a peep. But when we returned home the floodgates opened. All in all, I’m so thankful it ended up as it did.

Our first vacation with Liam went well. We learned that, like his papa, he’s a beach kid who is mesmerized by the ocean. With the magic of the Gulf air comforting him, we rested and relaxed and enjoyed having family help take care of him at times. The greatest gift was that we got record sleep stints out of him. It truly was the first point since his birth that I felt like we had hit our stride and that everything was manageable.

And then there was the beginning of a growth spurt. Or at least that’s what we can determine. The night we returned home, the inconsolable waterworks began. Eating is the only thing that will calm him. He sleeps less than before and needs to feed every hour. His wailing is the most horrible, gut-wrenching, pathetic thing I’ve ever seen, his eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down his scrunched-up face.

But timing again plays evident as this is also the point in his development where he’s learning to smile. As a mimicking behavior, he smiles if you show him how…and Lord don’t you know that this single facial expression alone erases the other 23.995 hours per day of crying that he does. It makes my heart stop. I’m fairly sure that The Wife™ or I would do anything for the kid if he just flashed us those pearly pink gums of his. He’d be dangerous if he realized what kind of emotional weapon he possessed.

So while we try everything to console him, all hope is not lost. I pray the growth spurt only lasts a few more days, but I hope he never forgets how to smile. Even when he’s a teenager.