The arrival of 2011 came without fanfare. Day 1 was spent in a fog of leftovers, football games, jammied wee ones and naps for nearly all of us. It came. It went. No doubt, I should say something profound here about our hopes for the new year, for all that is to come, and reflect upon the events of 2010. I simply don't feel like it. Enough said.
Yesterday, I reveled in the morning light as it crept into our house, leaving its dappled marks on bedroom walls and casting about dramatic shadows. With the boys still sleeping, Sophie and I found our way into the nursery, settling into the familiar contour of the green chair, mommy, babe and bottle. Her wide, trusting eyes never left mine as I coached and encouraged her through an ounce of a bottle, an experience feeling at once familiar and very new. In Channing's early months, it was rare to nurse him anywhere but the green chair or change his diaper anywhere but on the dresser in his room. Sophie, with her pump, usually eats with one of us holding her on the couch and has been dressed and changed more often on the living room chair than not. The nursery I worked so hard to make into her perfect little haven seldom used. In our shared moment, I wished for WM to sneak in and take our picture.
Alas, Sophie & I did the sneaking, tip toeing into Channing's room once bottle-time was over. We found one happy brother dancing around in the old pack-n-play and one sleepy WM half awake in the toddler bed. That's one small bed for a daddy sized body.