We have mentioned before that I can be a little controlling. Everyone is aware, I hope, that I adore my daughter. And I will admit that I was skeptical early on of Steve's parenting style. But the other day I was upstairs making reeds. Nearly done for the day, even - I had a caseful of them ready to mail, and heard Steve and Zoe coming upstairs. Heard the cheerful chorus of the Diaper Changing song from her room across the hall. I waited for the end of the song and ambled over to pay my respects and found him lowering her oh-so-gently into the crib.
"Get out before she sees you!" he crooned, in the baby voice.
It's a measure of how far I've come that I did not question, I did not discuss, I did not hesitate. I dropped to my hands and knees and crept backward out of the room on my belly, careful to stay below the level of the crib bars.
Because no amount of being right or being Mom trumps naptime.
"Get out before she sees you!" he crooned, in the baby voice.
It's a measure of how far I've come that I did not question, I did not discuss, I did not hesitate. I dropped to my hands and knees and crept backward out of the room on my belly, careful to stay below the level of the crib bars.
Because no amount of being right or being Mom trumps naptime.
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