Marshall gets stares and “awws” everywhere we go. And rightly so! I know I might be just a tad biased, but this boy is just so darn beautiful. So I’m getting used to the attention and questions and comments that we receive when we’re out in public. But last weekend one lady threw me for a bit of a loop.

We were out to breakfast, and she was sitting a couple tables away. We were in a part of the restaurant that was fairly quiet, so she leaned over and gave the classic “Aww! How old is he?” I tell her two and half months. She says she has an eight year old, and that is enough for her! As she’s staring and grinning at Marshall, I’m wondering if she’s feeling nostalgic for the newborn phase or thankful that she survived it and never has to return.

Then she says, “They’re always so much cuter when they’re not yours.”

I don’t remember how I responded. Or if I did. I probably just gave an awkward giggle and tried to suppress my appalled face. Don’t get me wrong. I understand what she meant, and I may very well be saying the same thing by the time Marshall is eight years old. But I hope I only say it to myself and not out loud to the mother of an adorable two and a half month old.

Because, no. They’re not cuter when they’re someone else’s. Not when you’ve been waiting to hold a healthy, happy, chubby, squirmy baby for years. Not when you’ve lost a child and wondered if you’d ever have another. Not when you’ve been staring at everyone else cooing at their cute babies and wishing you were in their shoes.

Yes, Marshall is hard work. Yes, I sometimes complain. But there is nowhere else I’d rather be. Nothing else I’d rather be doing. And I hope that I never ever ever forget how irresistibly cute he is–even when he’s spitting up and peeing and pooping and crying and screaming and waking me up at three in the morning.