(Thanks to Scott for the links.)
Nighttime with Fisher-Price.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Thursday was the last day of my work week and so today instead of rushing to get Riley off to daycare, I spend a leisurely morning dawdling over coffee and the paper while he babbled next to me, propped in his bouncy seat. "Ba ba bla ba ab da BA eh meh AH ba!" he said, and I agreed wholeheartedly. Eventually, though, entropy descended, the balance of the universe tipped and fell with a resounding crash, and the howling began.
I tried to feed him but he was doing the squirrel-paw thing where he gets his hands all up near his mouth and when I try and gently pry them away he screeches like I pulled off a toenail. He bit the nipple on the bottle so milk just ran down his chin, he chewed on his hand then scratched himself and screamed, he made his entire body stiff as a plank and kicked me. About half an hour passed as I pulled various rabbits out of various hats: jiggling, rocking, singing "I Wanna Be Sedated" Muzak-style while he whimpered, whined, sobbed, and rent his garments. I thought: jesus christ how I wish I were at work right now.
Eventually he quieted, and before he fell asleep he spent several minutes lying comfortably in my arms, finally content and sated. And oh the warm heavy weight of him, his intoxicating sweet smell, the slow blink of his butterfly-wing-dusted eyelashes as he turned his face up towards mine and drank me in. I thought: I am so glad to be here right now, I am so glad.
Now he's awake and playing and mercurial as hell, laughing out loud one moment and all thunderclouds the next, and this morning just seems like a fractal scrap of the sum of parenthood; frustrating and magnificent, annoying and miraculous.