Despite the fact that it’s totally screwing with my sweet baby’s nice but delicate sleep schedule, I am a big fan of daylight saving’s time. Or, rather, the lack thereof. I like the longer evenings. I like eating dinner before it’s pitch black out. I like having bright sunny afternoons with the kiddo. Yesterday was a good day. Miss Thang and I enjoyed some sunshine and cuddling and playing. I’ve certainly had good moments here and there, but yesterday was a good day all day long. And I can say that now, because yesterday is over and cannot be dramatically changed. (I say, as if challenging the universe.)
Miss Thang is nearly five months old, and she has turned into this really cool little person. The change was recent, but it’s been wonderful. I mean, she’s always been precious and loveable and whatnot, but suddenly there’s this personality emerging. She’s got an opinion, she likes to laugh, and she’s becoming better and better at controlling and maneuvering her own body. Also, she seems to like me for more than my boobs, which I admit is very rewarding and long-awaited.
The other day I went to take a shower, and left her in the care of one Funasaurus. When I poked my head out when looking for a towel (ah, the luxury of having time to towel off!) I heard him talking. I wondered if he was on the phone, but then realized his tone was slow and rhythmic and he wasn’t pausing. I guessed he was reading to Miss Thang. Right then my little book nerd heart swelled and burst into a million little pieces. I rushed to get dressed and brushed my teeth (other things that make my heart happy these days) and then went to join them. As I walked towards the nursery, I could still hear him talking. I began wracking my brain for what children’s book we could possibly own that had that many words. Most of our books, so far, are board books and feature such compelling text as “cow says MOO.” As I got closer I heard him mention something about probing and hanging from a ledge.
My husband was reading my innocent baby Shutter Island.
‘Twas not quite the literary family gathering I had imagined when I was carefully arranging Dr. Seuss and Pat the Bunny along the wall before Miss Thang was born, but she was happily gumming a pink rattle wearing nothing other than socks while listening to her daddy, so I decided to let it be.
Meanwhile I have my first work trip coming up. I am dreading leaving Miss Thang overnight. It’s only two nights, but I am having anxiety issues when I think about it too much. Honestly, she’ll be fine, and the thought of sleeping through the night is seductive, but I am so attached to that bitty little person I just don’t want to be away from her.
I have been assured she will not forget about me in that time, so I take solace in that. And also in the fact that since I will have to pump and dump anyway, I can probably drink some wine. And by “some” I mean “a crapload more than just a sip, which is all I’ve allowed myself for the past YEAR.”
Not all bad.
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2 comments:
You sound marvelous! It is indeed something profound when the babies become little people, huh? My Christopher is a stubborn old mule, takes after mama, lol.
Gee, i've always only liked you for your boobs. Is that bad?
I remember that magic age when finally you begin to see some light at the end of the baby tunnel. When mine was 5 months old, i decided that she was so cute that i wanted 4 kids.
Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed.
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