Claire is one month old today. I suppose I could pontificate on the transformative effects of parenthood, relating to world, or the nuances of not only becoming a dad but surviving it for the first four-plus weeks. Yes, the first month of life for this strange little creature that come to live with us has been both surreal and deeply rewarding, but then you would expect me to reflect divinely on such, and that would be overly dramatic. So I won’t.

Instead, the mundane: I can relate stories of cramped hands from holding a babe perfectly still on one’s chest while balancing a book in the other hand. I can ponder the oddity of laying on the floor and holding a staring contest with an impatient set of eyes less than a foot away. I can teach lessons in the daddy-dance, bouncing a whimpering child in one’s arms to ease the blubbers of imperfect digestion. I can wonder at the ease at which one learns to speak of the by-products of digestion in polite society. I can hint at some secret brotherhood of fatherhood, the secret handshake of new dads who suddenly have more important words to share than those previous brotherhoods of sports, computer speeds, and hemi-powered horsepowers.

One month along and her personality is emerging. I will qualify that: I have anthropomorphized her behaviors and linked them to what I understand as a personality. What I see is character, but it is likely more primal than that. But I’m a dad and I take liberties herein: She is oddly patient. She is pensive, often staring at something I would regard as mundane for minutes on end. She is defiant, choosing to ignore the toys and other delights we offer in favour of the organic shapes and shadows of a nearby houseplant. She is a quick study, taking up the tasks of being a baby — such as feeding, lifting her head, and even now smirking and smiling — more promptly than I would have thought. She relaxes at my voice. She grunts while she sleeps. She hates having her stomach touched. She is stubborn. She is unpredictable. She is an amalgam of her parents.

Did I mention it has been surreal? And did I mention I wouldn’t trade it for anything.