There was nothing special about Thursday. We stayed home all day.
We stayed dirty. We watched tv, laptop open.
I nursed him at least twenty times.
We ate grilled cheese for lunch.
I bathed. He played.
He fell asleep on my chest. His hair is too long and it was sweaty.
I fell asleep too, too gone to feel the wonder lying on my chest. Too tired and cold to face this day.
I answered emails. He napped.
Daddy came home. And we're off.
We're off, and I am afraid.
I am afraid that after all day at home with this guy that I have spent not one quality second with him.
I am afraid that I am missing it. He is mine, but he's growing, and I don't know how. He won't be mine soon enough.
I am afraid that I am too caught up in other things. Like what's for lunch. Like being productive. Like taking a bath.
I am afraid that I will look back and wonder what happened during 2013. The year he soars past two.
I am afraid that I will regret the way I spent my days.
Oh, how I want to spend my days with him.