I got four smiles from my son yesterday. Yes, I counted. And it didn’t happen until right before he went to bed.
Mike gets Ryan up in the morning and gets him dressed and fed and off to daycare. We get up at the same time in the morning, but for some reason it takes me 5 million hours to get ready for work, no matter how fast I’m rushing through it. (I blame it on the Arizona sun and my fair skin and the fact that I require 12 different lotions, all with SPF.)
Anyway, I saw Ryan briefly in the morning when he first got up, but he was in a bad mood cuz he wanted to sleep longer and WHERE IS MY MILK?
I left for work while he was drinking his milk, and he refuses to smile at you while he’s drinking his milk, even if he’s in a really good mood, cuz that would require a momentary pause in the drinking, and he’s just not willing to do that for you. He really loves you, but you’re not as important as milk. The end.
I usually pick Ryan up from daycare and give him a bath and put him down for a nap, but yesterday I had a dermatologist appointment. (Cuz I’m at the dermatologist like every 4 weeks. See what I mean about the need for 12 lotions?) Mike picked him up for me and we arrived home at the same time. But Ryan had not been the world’s best napper at daycare, so he was tired. And hungry. And MAD. We hurried to get him a bottle as he voiced his displeasure over our speed, which was not warp and therefore not fast enough. I fed him while he alternately drank milk and yelled at me, for no logical reason that I could discern.
Upon completion of the bottle (and more voicing of displeasure), he went down for a nap.
We made him get up at 8:30 p.m. to have another bottle. Which, again, did not make him happy. But we know that he needs another bottle or he’ll wake up famished at, oh, 2 a.m., which displeases us. So we made him get up and shoved a bottle into his mouth, at which point he realized that maybe getting up was a good idea if it means milk, so he calmed down and had his bottle. Once he finished, he started rubbing at his eyes, which is our cue that he needs to go to sleep now or all hell is going to break loose. So I changed him one last time, which sort of annoyed him, despite enacting the typically effective methods of distraction involving Otto the Octopus and kisses on his tummy.
Once he was changed, I sat him up, and he flashed me a smile.
“Whoa! You’re smiling at me?! Yay! Hi, Ryan!”
“You’re so handsome when you smile! SUCH a handsome boy.”
“And sitting! Sitting like a big boy!”
Uh oh. Eye Rub Number Two. We’re about to be in trouble.
And down he went for the night.
Four smiles. The highlight of my day.