I recently completed a five-week paternity leave to care for my baby daughter, Adira. When my wife, Stephanie, returned to work, I decided to take the time off to be a full-time parent, however briefly. The weeks flew by quickly, even as individual days unfolded slowly, lacking the structure that defines most of our lives--no alarm clocks, train schedules, work hours. During that time, I focused on Adira--who was five months old at the time--and little else. But just as importantly, I learned some lessons from her. Click through my gallery to read about those lessons, and to get a glimpse of the beautiful child I have the privilege of raising.

There's just no substitute for it. Five uninterrupted weeks with my daughter was irreplaceable and unforgettable. If you can swing it, financially and otherwise, I can't recommend it enough. I got to really know my daughter, and to learn about myself in the process.

When was the last time you smiled from ear to ear just because someone you love walked in the door after a day's work? Or because you're enjoying that bowl of cereal so much or hear a song you've heard 10 times already today? To be five months old is to find wonder and joy in what those of us who've been around longer find routine and unremarkable. Watching one of us make funny faces, hearing a rattle squeak, rolling around on the floor... it's all joyful to Adira.

It's all new to her. Everything. And she approaches it all with intense curiosity and absolutely no fear. If she sees something she wants to touch (or taste!), she'll get there, somehow, even though she can't yet crawl, through sheer determination and improvisation. During my paternity leave, she began eating solid food. Despite not knowing what in the world was going into her mouth, she ate what was given to her and soon began to like it.

While I was prepared for the all-consuming, exhausting nature of caring for an infant, I was surprised at the slow, meditative pace of my paternity leave. While we did our share of visiting people and doing errands, it was the unstructured days that I'll remember the most, the times when I let Adira's needs and moods dictate the day. It was a steady stream of feedings, naps, diaper changes, walks, play time. If meditation is a means of teaching a person to be aware of, and live in, the moment, that is exactly how I lived for five weeks.

We all like to think we're nice people, generous, maybe even selfless. But there is nothing to test your selflessness quotient like caring full-time for a baby. Spending all day with this little person who can't talk, who can burst into tears at any moment, who consumes your every moment, doesn't sound like fun--and yet, we parents love every minute of it (well, almost every minute), throwing ourselves at it like we've never focused on anything before. And that is what it means to truly serve another human being.

As adults, we're often in the position of ignoring our own needs. I'm hungry but shouldn't eat right now, or tired but too busy to sleep. As a baby, Adira has no such considerations. If she's hungry, she gets fed, and if she's tired, it doesn't matter if she's in her parents' arms, taking a walk in the park, or in her crib. And if she's not tired or hungry, there's no convincing her that this is a good time to sleep or eat anyway. Of course, there are also those dirty diapers at the most inopportune times.

Adira often has a big smile on her face, but it took her a while to laugh, and she's still not a big laugher. But the first time it happened, Stephanie and I were shocked. We couldn't stop laughing ourselves: We expected a slight, dainty giggle to come out of her tiny mouth, and instead she let loose with a full-belly, deep-voiced guffaw.

On the final weekday of my leave--the last "day off"--I planned to go to a beautiful riverside park near our home. Adira and I would lounge around on the grass, she'd do her signature (only) move--rolling over--I'd take some great photos, I'd have the kind of quality afternoon I can't have regularly while working. Comes that Friday, and it's 90 degrees out for the first time this summer, the first time in Adira's life. She's cranky, and seems to find little joy in the outing, which I duly cut short. Back in the bliss of our air-conditioned living room, however, Adira comes alive, cooing, smiling, and having a grand old time rolling around our floor and playing in her exer-saucer. Memories made, photos taken--just not in the way I expected it.

It's what every baby does--and every parent. No matter how clueless we parents feel, no matter how impossible it can sometimes be to understand what the baby wants or why she may be crying, no matter how exhausted we are, parenting is never a thankless task, even if our children are too young to actually say the words.

It may sound like paternity leave was all bliss and love, but the truth is, it could be exhausting, frustrating, and occasionally trying on my patience. There was a lot of talking to this little person who doesn't talk in response, and by the end of some days I was thrilled to pass the baby off to Stephanie. I wouldn't want to do this full-time. It's not like I ever envisioned myself quitting work to be a stay-at-home dad, but the part of me that said, "Maybe I will win the lottery someday and never have to work" learned that I am a better parent for having balance in my life.

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