Man. That Owen. He is one irascible boy. He just wants to go, go, GO! And even when he's asleep, he wants to be held. I can't even list all the things we did today but you can bet that many of them involved chickens and the stroller and that cereal box. And I don't know why he made that face in that last picture. He just did.
He's a character.
I went to a rehearsal tonight and another baby was there, young Colin, and he is a mellow guy. I did my funny tricks for him. The ones that make Owen laugh. And Colin looked at me as if I was an idiot. Like, "Excuse me. Who ARE you and why are you making these insane sounds and assaulting my abdomen?" And then he laid there in his seat while his parents acted. I was quite frankly amazed and wondered if perhaps we have over-stimulated Owen.
And then I came home and immediately began to do my stupid tricks again just to get another Owen smile. Over-stimulation. He had his mama are spending the night because Lily has to be at work at six a.m. again and it's just easier if he doesn't have to be packed up and toted somewhere in the early morning hours.
But now he is all bathed and lavendered up and his mama is going to nurse him to sleep. One of these days I have to have the camera ready when she gets here to record the smile he has when he sees her after a few hours of separation. It is...well, just the sort of smile you hope to see when you get to heaven.
Let's face it- our boy is a wiggler and a giggler and he is not mellow and he has worn his grandmother out today.
And I have taken an over-the-counter sleep aid and I am going to go to bed very soon.
And we will do it all again tomorrow.
The peas are finally coming up and perhaps I will take a picture of them tomorrow. Perhaps I will muck out the chicken coop because the guano in there is building up like something you don't want to talk about and I'm afraid the chickens are going to start sliding off the nests. And perhaps I will get the breakfast dishes washed tomorrow before three p.m.
I'm not going to put any pressure on myself or Owen either. If he wants his grandmother to be down on the floor with him playing with a cereal box, then that's where she'll probably be.
So sweet dreams, everyone, and if you don't see my comments today or even soon, well, you'll know the reason why.
It's because I have a wiggly, giggly boy in my arms who does not want to be set down and when I don't, I'm exhausted.
Oh you mothers! How do you do this? How did I do it? I do not know.
And yet, it gets done, we cradle these babies, we do anything and everything to make them laugh and be happy, we hold them as they sleep, we listen to the sweet huff of their breath as they dream, never quite trusting that this sweet, still infant is really here, in our care, and we say amen and good-night.