45. I'm no Ronald Reagan

Diana had a hard time leaving William yesterday. She calls more when she misses him. I was asleep this morning when she left, so I don't know today's missing index status. Friday is her last day at work without William. While it's been a tough time for her, at times, it's been a boon to me. I've really gained more confidence that I can take care of him. I've gotten to tune into him by taking care of him from 7-4. I've overcome, to some extent the exhaustion. It's hard though. I'm not thinking as clearly, it's harder to think when you're sleep deprived. But I have to do something, or else I get sleepy.

I was reading the little biographical bit on Ronald Reagan in the New Yorker, and supposedly he did not get much fact time with his children. He would focus more on his political career. He apparently introduced himself to one of his kids once, like he was a stranger.

I've got him in the rocking chair while I write this. Diana holds him in the evening and he sleeps a lot. I don't hold him as much as she does. I love holding him, but I also like to move around and do things. I put him under the rattles, and he wiggles for up to an hour sometimes, hitting the rattles. I get him when he cries twice. First time, I don't want to undermine his ability to take frustration. Sometimes I think he barks because he's just frustrated. He's "talking" a lot more. I try to copy him or respond to him every time he talks. I was reading one of the wonderful books Jen and Joe gave me at the shower, and when he talks, I stop reading and talk to him. I want him to learn talking is about taking turns. You don't talk when others are talking. He's wiggling more complexly, and with more vigor. He's looking around more. Last night he would look from his sleeping mother, to me, and back again. He has a million facial expressions. You can tell he has a vivid active internal world.

Last night for some reason, he got very upset, and cried really loud. I felt bad, because Diana woke up and she immediately bare hugged him, and he calmed down. She breast fed him till he slept. Sometimes when he wakes up he grabs his head, and face. I worry sometimes he's going to poke his eye. It really scares me, but I can't always be there to make sure he does not poke an eye out, he needs to learn not to poke his eyes. I think somehow he knows, but is not totally in control of his fingers. Sometimes I put them down.

It seems like his legs have gotten bigger. I notice new things, before I notice his face was changing, or his hands were bigger.

We listened to Robert Cray this morning. Somehow there are jack hammers and lawns being mowed a lot. It's a noisy day here. Even the street sweeping machine is quite noisy.