On Wednesday, I Sang to You

 Dear Luca,

    I would say that 95% of our time together today was spent quietly, while we walked (2 miles) and you slept and , on waking, you took your bottle and played with little colorful discs, looked at your book, and listened to me sing. Slowly, but surely, you begin to trust me. You'll accept the bottle I offer, and, as you can see from the photo below, your eyes to show some acceptance, right.

    When your mom left, it was pretty clear you didn't want to be in your high chair, and you also protested when I put you in your stroller, but it is a magic stroller: 5 minutes, protest; 5-10 minutes, look around at the pine trees as we head up and down the roads; then your eyelids get heavy, and you fall into a peaceful sleep, the wind carressing your little cheeks.

    But that didn't happen right away. I got you all ready, and the dogs were eager to start out, and we went out on your deck, but, alas, the rain. So we came back in and I fixed the bottle while you fussed. You were hungry. While you were drinking and pausing and playing with your little toys, I began to sing to you. I'm deeply grateful that you appeared to be enthralled by my singing, and I'm pretty sure you weren't faking it. 

    Look at you listening to me:

This was my song:

It's raining now

But soon we'll walk.

We'll walk and walk 

And walk and walk.

The rain will stop and

we'll go out

We'll go up the road

And down the road,

And pretty soon you'll fall asleep.

We'll walk and walk

And walk and walk

Up and down the road

We'll walk.

It is clearly my masterpiece, because when we did get outside, that's exactly what happened:

Of course, you wake up once we get back to your house. But even then, you sat in your stroller and looked around and talked to yourself a bit. 

    It began to fall apart about 20 minutes before your dad came home. I changed your diaper; you hated it. I walked and talked and hugged you. Uh-uh. We went from room to room. I picked you up and put you down; I offered you a little teething ring with strawberries in it.  But you had had enough. 

    Your dad came home: 

We'll get there, you and I. We'll get there one day.