It’s beginning to come together.
I think in part it’s your age – you’re at such a nice age – and in part it’s me, making an effort to be a bit more hands-on with you. You reach out to me a lot these days and who can resist taking a baby when he’s grinning his gummy grin and waving his tiny arms? So I hold you and bounce you on my knees and you wind your baby fingers through my hair and are content.
I miss you when I go to work these days. Sometimes your mummy texts me updates or emails me a picture of what you’ve been up to, which is nice. I like to show my colleagues how sweet you are, how much you’ve grown. I like to tell them stories of what you’ve been up to. Sometimes I roll my eyes and tell mournful stories of teething and tears, sleepless nights and reflux – but it’s mostly for show. I wouldn’t go back to how it was before you came along, to sleep-ins until noon and uninterrupted afternoons.
These days, mostly I just can’t wait to get home to you.