Don't leave me in the crib. I'll die here. Alone. Cradle me in your arms. Hold me. I'll live. I'll live.Read More
"Yeah," he replies, kicking a leg out to propel himself upwards.
Our son, teething his upper canines, is difficult to put to sleep. He takes a long time to fall asleep, sometimes. He wakes easily, sometimes. Unless he's had a short afternoon nap, then he goes to bed easily, sometimes.
I had pulled Beren from the car, asleep. We crossed the derelict lawn to the house, a cool breezy night, no stars. He'll go right into his crib. Didn't have to do The (bedtime) Routine.
Once across the threshold of the house, he began to stir. I nursed him. Though in the dark, I could see his eyes blinking. I sang lullabies.
We began to wiggle. He said, "Ah!" and pointed to the fan. I tickled his foot and bit his toes. He sputtered and giggled. We're toast. This baby is awake after an hour 'nap' in the car at bedtime.
I turned on a light and went to find my husband who initiates The Routine.
This morning is my morning to take solo time. Before Jared and Beren left, I hung laundry, watered the greenhouse, and brought the diapers upstairs.
Jared looked at me, perhaps wondering why I was squandering precious solo time. I need to do, go, work off that nervous energy of the morning.
My husband accesses inner experience through his endless hunger for books, music, new places, creative endeavors. He's quick like a snake. A beautiful day is a day to visit a new place.
My son accesses inner experience by running through open doors, finding ways through difficult passages. He can play quietly for several minutes, examining an object, but he can walk endlessly and far like a tiger.
I consider cracking the hazelnuts in the cookie jar or meandering through the yard.
Like a rabbit, zig zagging down the road.