When the first drop of noise comes out of the corner from down the hall, my body twitches. I roll around thinking to myself, let it be a nightmare, let it be a sweat, let it not be... then, there it is the morning wail to let me know I am to deliver milk, and scoop you into my arms and remind you that you aren't alone in the house and that you are surrounded by love.
It's Saturday and while papa is not here to share the laughter, the pool time, the crying, the load, I have decided to get out of the house and go on an adventure. We eat an amazing breakfast this morning, inspired by you, dear P, avocados and scrambled eggs, and toast with homemade raspberry preserves. And then, we pack up: 2 diapers, 1 big bottle of water for mama, 1 small bottle of water for P, and a recyclable sandwich baggie fulled of pseudo healthy snacks: raisins, peanuts, oatmeal cereal bears, 2 cinnamon cookies, chopped up apricots, and salted Peruvian corn. Plus a pouch to help us survive the train journey down to Palermo. It's a gorgeous day and with the puree of pomegranates, pears, carrots and oats, you are relaxed and geared up to go, until we get on the train and you decide that being still is not feeling good. One minute you point to the train seat, and I move you and you sit gracious for 5 minutes, pointing here and there and everywhere, until you realize your stroller is empty which of course, makes you want to be there. Why wouldn't it? Empty spots shout to be made full.
At the park, you insist upon the see-saw "Up-down" I say intensely trying to increase vocabulary but feeling like a broken record.
By the time we reach the restaurant for lunch, you are full of all the snacks from before. But mama is with another mama, and we know this story like the back of our hand. We choose the terrace of a cafe that is a bamboo jungle with easy to view spots for you, dear P to run around, to make friends, to smile at babies, to turn over sugar bowls, to throw rocks, and to get lost in your imagination.
On the way home, going in and out of the calm and the storm, I desperately long for naptime, to get in my slice, to tidy up the house a bit, to take a shower...
With a splash of milk, and a change of diaper, you magically concur. It's time for everyone to get their daily dose to themselves: naps, dreams, silence reside as we speak. With that, I am off to indulge in a little siesta myself. Happy Saturday!
It's Saturday and while papa is not here to share the laughter, the pool time, the crying, the load, I have decided to get out of the house and go on an adventure. We eat an amazing breakfast this morning, inspired by you, dear P, avocados and scrambled eggs, and toast with homemade raspberry preserves. And then, we pack up: 2 diapers, 1 big bottle of water for mama, 1 small bottle of water for P, and a recyclable sandwich baggie fulled of pseudo healthy snacks: raisins, peanuts, oatmeal cereal bears, 2 cinnamon cookies, chopped up apricots, and salted Peruvian corn. Plus a pouch to help us survive the train journey down to Palermo. It's a gorgeous day and with the puree of pomegranates, pears, carrots and oats, you are relaxed and geared up to go, until we get on the train and you decide that being still is not feeling good. One minute you point to the train seat, and I move you and you sit gracious for 5 minutes, pointing here and there and everywhere, until you realize your stroller is empty which of course, makes you want to be there. Why wouldn't it? Empty spots shout to be made full.
At the park, you insist upon the see-saw "Up-down" I say intensely trying to increase vocabulary but feeling like a broken record.
By the time we reach the restaurant for lunch, you are full of all the snacks from before. But mama is with another mama, and we know this story like the back of our hand. We choose the terrace of a cafe that is a bamboo jungle with easy to view spots for you, dear P to run around, to make friends, to smile at babies, to turn over sugar bowls, to throw rocks, and to get lost in your imagination.
On the way home, going in and out of the calm and the storm, I desperately long for naptime, to get in my slice, to tidy up the house a bit, to take a shower...
With a splash of milk, and a change of diaper, you magically concur. It's time for everyone to get their daily dose to themselves: naps, dreams, silence reside as we speak. With that, I am off to indulge in a little siesta myself. Happy Saturday!
I can feel the pacing and the tension bundled together here- the new and the familiar. P is so lucky to have you and your adventurous spirit. Long may the naps last, my younger son quit those way before I was ready.
ReplyDelete"Empty spots shout to be made full." Of course they do! Why hadn't this ever occurred to me before?
ReplyDelete"It's time for everyone to get their daily dose to themselves" is not an idea we abandoned when naps stopped. To this day there is a two hour chunk of 'quiet time' every day we are home. We all cherish this time, though now she fills it with projects and imagination and singing and who know what else.