I’ve been thinking lately about how much easier it’s gotten, being Robin’s primary caretaker. It was astoundingly, asskickingly hard at the beginning but it got steadily easier, and now as he’s learning new ways to communicate his desires it’s easier still. I mean, we have our days—especially when he was recovering from being sick, and wouldn’t eat much, and as a consequence was hungry and cranky—but his appetite is completely recovered now and so are his spirits. Oh, except that he still won’t eat bananas, which is a sad thing.
But a well-fed, well-rested Robin is a happy Robin, and a happy Robin is good company. Which is a lucky thing, because he is quite literally my constant companion. He sleeps snuggled up against me. He wakes me in the morning with kisses, pats, and gentle coos. Yesterday and this morning he gravely offered me first one foot, and then the other, expecting kisses on his toes which I obligingly provided. (“Oh look at those delicious toesies nom nom nom nom mmm oh it’s a very fine crop of toes today, thank you my dear.”) I suppose someday he will have to become accustomed to a world wherein his feet are not kissed first thing upon awakening, but that day has not yet dawned.
From morning to bedtime we are never far from each other. Even as he races around the park he keeps me in his sights, and toddles back to my side every now and then for a quick hug before pelting off again. He generally even joins me in the shower. He is my little buddy, my good friend, always wanting to help no matter what it is I’m doing. He is so funny and so sweet, and most of the time it’s easy, now, to be with him.
Of course this total intimacy won’t continue much longer. I’d like to establish some bathroom privacy at some point in the near future; and when we move into a larger space we can start getting him used to sleeping in his own bed. But I know that most of the separation will be at Robin’s own initiative. He’ll hit the normal developmental stages that lead him to seek greater and greater independence. He’ll be growing and changing, and he’ll reach a point where he doesn’t want to be always at mommy’s side.
But I, ungrown and unchanged, will be a little sorry when it happens.