Oh, you wanted to vacuum, Mom? That's cool. I'll just sit here on the couch and smile till you're done.
He goes hither and yon with nary a word of complaint.
He rides in his carseat like a champ.
He grins all the way through the grocery store.
He patiently endures his older brothers' perpetual obsession with petting his head; I might even say he enjoys it.
He kicks it on the sheepskin while I make dinner, sucking his fingers and flailing about.
And he sleeps. Like a dream. Like a miracle. Like one of those babies I was sure were mythical, because it's just not possible for a four-month-old baby to go to bed at 8 p.m. and wake up at 7 a.m. (or later). But Jack does. Okay, sometimes he wakes up at 3 a.m. or 5 a.m. to nurse, but often he doesn't.
I can't tell you how life-changing it is to have an infant who actually sleeps. It's almost like not having a newborn at all.
I guess he's not really a newborn anymore, anyway.
But still awesome. Always.