Man of the House

Michael is out of town tonight, for the third Thursday in a row. Oh, don't worry, he's been home for the other 6 days each week; it's just that when he travels for work, it tends to be on a Thursday. Which works out well because the NBC comedy lineup on this night is my guilty pleasure. I still interact with my kid, don't get me wrong; but I give myself permission this one night a week to rot in front of the TV for 3 hours and not feel guilty. Of course I'm still multitasking in order to care for my 8-month-old, but I'm still rotting. That's one of the tasks.

So after a night of putting away the laundry, giggling and tickling, "Community," packing for daycare tomorrow, "Parks and Recreation," feeding, reading books, "The Office," feeding again, changing diapers, "30 Rock," and a bath, Oliver finally fell into his deep baby sleep by the time "The Marriage Ref" came on at 9. And I continued to rot, enjoying an hour of just watching moving pictures, not needing to do anything else simultaneously except make judgements about the people on the show and hold my warm, soft, sleeping baby. Not a bad night.

Before bed, I checked to make sure the garage was shut, the doors were locked, and all lights shut-off. I grabbed my cell phone and my work phone, as I am on call tonight, and headed upstairs. With one final act of sweeping productivity, I put the washed towels into the dryer, and changed into my jam-jams.

Oh! I forgot a detail. You might be wondering what I did with the sleeping baby. I placed him in the middle of our king-sized bed, pulled blankets away from him and placed pillows only on the edges. I know, I know, I should have put him in his crib. There are several reasons why I should put him where he usually sleeps. But I have several reasons to counter them. I am the only one available tonight to stumble down the hall to put his nuk back in, and I'm tired. That's one reason. Oh and what do you know, those towels are not dry yet, and I strategically place two in the sides of Oliver's crib, which currently has its mattress elevated, so that he doesn't roll down his bed-hill. And then there's the spoiling reason, that once in a while, just for a treat while Daddy's out of town, he can snooze in bed with Mommy. It's our thing, our time together.

When Michael reads this, he will be shaking his head all throughout the previous paragraph. He will say that I shouldn't be making this a habit, that there's a reason Oliver has a whole room to himself, that my reasons are really not valid and my arguments are weak.

He's right. But there's something else. The real reason I like to have Oliver safely next to me in bed when Michael is out of town is that I feel safer. I don't like the idea of having him on one end of the house and me on the other. Oh, I know that Oliver is not a guard dog, but I just feel more secure when he's with me. In fact, even though he's near the middle, he's closer to Michael's side of the bed than mine. He's my protection. It just feels better to be near him. And that is more than enough reason for me.