Oct. 22nd, 2015

figment: Photo of me, smiling, in a sari (Default)
Yesterday, I worked a full day, then picked up Niko from day care. We got home and I had the luxury of sitting down to paint with him (a highly-interactive endeavor with a two-year-old) and then read to him. Putting dinner together was easy because Joe had done all the work of cooking the night before, but getting Niko to actually eat anything other than bread & butter and cucumbers was difficult. At some point after dinner, Joe took over for a half hour or so of playtime so that I could lie down and rest. I ended up doing much of bathtime, which began with a not-actually-hilarious extended session of "Niko want to sit on the potty! [almost immediately] Niko done with the potty! [cries because potty was removed] Niko want to sit on the potty!" (repeat many times). But bathtime also included some delightful singing together of the Mock Duck song and the Otto Wotto song (who knew that becoming a parent would also mean becoming a composer of silly songs?). Bathtime took so long - followed by the "Niko run around naked" portion of the evening - that it was rather late by the time I got him into his overnight diaper and PJs. Read him a couple of books and said good night to our sweet boy. Often Joe does more of this evening routine, but he wasn't feeling well; I was glad I could step up.

At 11 PM I found myself standing in the doorway of Niko's room for several minutes, just watching him sleep. "You're so beautiful. I love you so much."

This love is in some ways the hardest thing to express about being a parent.


figment: Photo of me, smiling, in a sari (Default)

December 2015

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