I was out early today, trying to get my so-called daily walk in before my 11-month-old grand daughter arrives. The air was crisp and the sky was deep blue with that golden glint of morning sunshine that you only get in September.
Autumn is my favorite season. It is the time of the Harvest - corn, squash, tomatoes, all those good New England produce items. Football is back. Fresh, tart, local, red Apples. It is the time for getting out of doors and opening the windows to let the fresh air inside.
Monday has been "my" day to watch Lila since she was 3 months old. If you know me, then you know that I am not the nurturing type, but my daughter needed to get back to work, and Lila was too young to be warehoused in a day-care-center all day.
So the grandparents on both sides stepped-up to help. My wife watches her on Friday, I have Monday, the paternal grandparents have her Tuesday and Thursday. The parents have her overnight and on weekends, (when they are not gallivanting off to Europe for two weeks).
In the early months, I would chafe at the feeling of trapped isolation when I realized that my world had contracted to revolve around the needs of a helpless infant who is totally dependent upon me - the caregiver. I imagine every young parent feels that same sense of being isolated when she/he is stuck watching a needy child when they would rather be out drinking beer with adults.
Like I say, I am definitely not your average metrosexual guy who enjoys pushing a baby carriage around, or changing diapers. But little Lila has melted my "tough-guys-don't-dance" façade. She has been a delight from the get-go. She is very sociable - a natural smiler, who enjoys being talked-to, sung-to and played-with.
Moreover, she is incredibly cute. I know you are thinking that I am biased, but how about this? When we take her out to a mall or supermarket, people always stop and remark what a cute baby she is. Do total strangers come-up and admire your grandchild? I think not.
We have watched her grow from a tiny infant to an expert crawler and accomplished babbler in these eight months. Last week, she climbed the first step of the stairs, so I guess it is time to put-up the grandkid gates again. (The cats hate when we do that).
For the past few weeks, on Wednesdays Lila has been going to the daycare facility with her three-year old brother. My daughter tells me that, shortly, there will be a space for her there on Mondays - and I will be offered the chance to get my Mondays back.
I tell myself that I will eagerly take it when it comes, because 8 hours is too long for me to be on-duty as a child care provider. I am looking to find a nice part-time job, and I have other age-appropriate interests like fishing and golf. Today I had to turn down a lunch invitation with my buddies, because I am certainly not showing-up with a baby in tow.
But, when she is in the day care place, there will be a real pang of loss for me, because part of me looks forward to my Lila day. Invariably she gives me a big smile, like she is glad to see me. I don't think I will get that from a fish or a boss.
I'm glad i took my friend's suggestion. I feel that I will always have it to look back on and will undoubtedly think: This has been an experience that I am glad that I did not miss.
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