Baby woke at eight o’clock. But I woke at seven [because he’s sleep-trained me thus]. Spent the morning putting on diapers [backwards], searching for glasses [on my head] and a phone call from a frantic friend wondering if I was quite alright what with the twenty-five missed calls from me with unintelligible messages [Waleed]
In good news he added a new word to his limited verbal repertoire this morning. In addition to highly necessary ones such as tractor, ducky, and doggy, he now stands at the foot of our bed, hands on hips, bellowing GREG! [our real estate agent who I assure you we do not speak to quite so forcefully]. We narrate all the live long day words like dood [milk], khana [food], and diaper-time, but he walks around gleefully shouting hathi [elephant], Jesus, and now, Greg. Which, while any new word is great, the words he chooses to pick up on are well, quite befuddling. Still, a word is a word. I’ll take it.
As I head to the park with
Tigger on ten shots sugar my son, I take solace in the coffee shop next door. And the refills that will be had. Coffee, surely it was invented for days exactly like these?