I’m sitting on the couch, nursing William. Jameson’s disappeared from sight, and then I hear the crash of dishes in the kitchen. Oh dear. “Jameson, please come in here with me, okay?” He skips into the living room, big smile on his face, saying, “Mmm, Mama!” Sure, bud.
An hour later, after everyone’s down for naps, I go out to the kitchen to tidy up and spot my small saucepan on the floor. And what in the world is in it?… Then I spot the [opened] envelope of carrot seeds. Jameson had spied the colorful veggies pictured on the front and figured — hey, why not cook this up for dinner? That was his “Mmm!”
The cries of a waking baby crackle over the monitor, and I leave the breakfast table to retrieve my little love. I find him, squishy and warm, burrowing his way out from under my down comforter. His pilot cap is hooked behind one ear. And I’m not sure why, but there’s something irresistibly adorable to me about a baby with one ear popping out of his cap.
Must. kiss. him.
Saturday afternoon, and then Sunday, too, found Ryan on his knees, trying his best to get a childhood train set up and running for Jameson’s enjoyment. It took two days, but he finally got everything greased and oiled and firing. The rest of us watched with anticipation — and it was one of those, “Hey, this feels like a real family!” moments.
Maybe we just are [a real family.]
Most assuredly, Ryan is a real daddy.
He’s our hero.