Q.T.

Lately, I find myself in the throes of multitasking. Now that The Much is mobile and usually disinterested in his toys, he is also quite the independent explorer of his environment, leaving me with a little time to check email, eat, do dishes, fold laundry. I realized that I am almost always trying to get something else done when I'm caring for him. And, as a result, I'm missing stuff. I'm missing the look on his face when he closes the bedroom door for the 87th time; the spitup that he ultimately mops up with his shirt when I'm not looking; the glee with which he bangs on the pan that he pilfered from the cupboard. It frustrates me because I'm constantly complaining that my baby is growing up too fast and too soon, yet I'm too "busy" to notice all his little triumphs and tribulations.

And then, yesterday happened.

4:30 on a Thursday rolled around with only one nap in its duration, and a cranky 10 month old in the path leading to bedtime. Too late for another nap, but we thought we'd hunker down for a snuggle. So we just rocked in the glider; him with his paci, me with...well, with him. He laid his head on my chest and stayed there for a full 30 minutes, in the quiet, fully awake. Then we played a silent patting game: he'd pat my arm, I'd pat his back. Then it turned into a "hmmmm"ing game. He'd say, "hmmm," I'd say, "hmmm."Then it turned into peekaboo. Then it turned into Tickle Torture, and that was the end of our peaceful moment. But, boy, was it nice while it lasted. Just me and my baby. Rockin'.