Last night I left work in a foul mood. I had planned on taking a break at some point in the afternoon and grabbing a Coke, but I was unexpectedly busy and spent the hours watching the window of opportunity close before me. I was resentful of the amount of work I had to do over spring break, when the office is a ghost town yet my own little shop keeps humming along.
I had to pick up Alice, and on my way to get her I thought, F it, I'm taking her to Chipotle. Even though she's been around for almost a year now I still feel weirdly not-autonomous with her. Like I can't just decide to take her places, that I should be asking L for permission, or that we have to head immediately home if we don't have a fully stocked diaper bag with complete sets of extra clothing and outerwear. Perhaps this stems from the nasty old cow on the bus who made a comment about how Alice wasn't wearing shoes or a hat one morning. Turns out none of her toes froze off, heifer! Thanks for your concern!
Anyways, I took Alice to Chipotle and we had a great time. I managed to carry our tray of food, plus her, plus a high chair. I managed to fill our drinks, sit her down, and enjoy a snack of chips and guac and a quesadilla. She was laughing and babbling the whole time and only nearly choked to death once. Overall, a wild success.
She is in this painfully cute stage right now. She does this thing where she runs her tongue side to side, along the edges of her teeth, making this wonderful burbling sound like this: BllBllBllBllBll. So of course now I make the noise to her, and she'll make it to me. I made the noise to L once when the two of us were lying on the couch, just because I kind of forgot. On the walk home from Chipotle Alice was making the noise contentedly, smiling at anyone, craning her neck upwards to look at the sky, reaching in the elevator to poke at the buttons, happy to walk around the apartment with my assistance, euphoric to be playing hide and seek and finding me in such sophisticated hiding spots as on the other side of the bed or behind a door.
I read somewhere that the first year or two of parenthood is about drawing your child close to you, and the rest of it is letting your child go. I am trying to be aware of and appreciate this moment of drawing her near, welcoming her to our fold, and seeing her light up in the midst of it all.