CleverBlogName

The problem with having accepted the first (unbearable cute!) efforts to feed Daddy is that I now have to look like proferred broccolli and pumpkin are the most delicious foods, nom nom nom!, that I’ve ever eaten.

We are now moving on to “I wish to clean you after dinner!”

I posted this somewhere else in a discussion thread; I place it here for posterity:

The best bit of parenting advice we got—from numerous sources—that turned out to be completely correct was to enjoy the now. People would explain how often they, themselves had been impatient for the “next stage”, only to discover they missed the last one, and felt they hadn’t enjoyed themselves enough during it.

I was delighted when my daughter was old enough to greet me with paroxyms of joy when I got home from work - but I also miss the time during the first couple of months of her life when the most magical thing in her little life was Daddy’s big, strong, safe chest. Apart from hunger there was no upset, no hurt, no distress that could not be cured by snuggling on down on Daddy. Her increasing complexity comes with many delights - the beginnings of speech, playing with drums and maracas, learning to enjoy the company of others, being excited by books and reading time - but I’m a little sad that complexity also means her needs and wants are no longer so heartwarmingly easy to satisfy.