I've had a couple of days this past week with some heavy-duty mama and son time. I don't spend nearly as much time with O as I should because Z lays first claim to my free time constantly.
On one of the days, he had some 24-hour stomach bug that caused copious vomiting, and we spent the day at home recuperating. He wasn't that sick; he demanded a wagon ride around the block and enjoyed the sprinkler action on various lawns. I put him down for his nap and held his hand until he was nearly out. It's a special move that we have.
We had grandparents in town this weekend, and it was a whirlwind of food and activity. On Sunday, D-Money took Z down to Oak Park, where they were staying, so O and I trekked to the supermarket to get a few things. I broke one of my self-imposed cardinal rules and opened a bag of goldfish crackers so he could munch while we shopped. But he thoroughly enjoyed himself and was fascinated by the piles and stacks of seemingly endless food. Not once did he try to escape the cart - a new milestone.
The one thing I'm working on right now is weaning him from the milk bottle. He's ready. It's a bit of a wrench - though not as much as stopping breastfeeding - but he's been able to fall asleep without needing the bottle for the past several days. It's time.
So now I'm without a baby in the house. After three years, it's an odd feeling. Sad, but liberating. No more dragging of huge tote bags filled with baby paraphenalia - back to normal-sized, cute handbags for mom. No more double stroller - both kids demand to walk or run amok. No more special baby food - O will eat everything from gnocchi to lobster.
Back to my happy prince - he's a good egg. A destructive, highly energetic, mischievous, charming egg, but a good one.
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