The Evening Ritual

Sorry, no photos attached to this post.

It is early in the morning and I'm about to retire. I spent half of the night on mindless distractions and the other half on budget worksheets. For future reference, it is best to attend to work before play. The delay was not as much attributed to procrasination, as it was not wanting to associate dollars to real people losing their job. People in the office often comment that I'm lucky because my position is safe for I'm one of the few people "who understand the numbers." Not sure that knowledge is always that empowering. At least, I'm not necessarily feeling all that lucky nowadays.

Before I got too down on the world around, I thought of bath time with Blanden. The best part of my day is our night-time ritual. I just pulled him out of the tub, soaking wet and dripping with water. I reached for the towel and started chasing him throughout the second story of our home. When I was chasing him, Blanden was joyfully screaming, "Bob....Bob...Bob...Bob". For those unfamilar with this term, Bob equals Mom. Blanden attached to this pronounciation early in his formative stages and I have reinforced his use of the term Bob for Mom (at least I thought it was funny).

Tonight was especially special because I witnessed Blanden's developmental milestone of verbally associating Bob (or Mom) with the concept of safety and comfort. There is something undescribable about the feeling knowing that my son seeks security and safety from his mother. Because of my estranged relationship with my mother, the force of that emotion was amplified intensely.

Blanden had fell asleep almost immediately this evening. I couldn't stop myself from not wanting it to end. I held on to Blanden nearly 10 minutes after he slumbered gracefully in my arms. After I placed him gently in his porta-crib, I quietly whispered, "Bob, will be here first thing in the morning."

Thanks Bob!