Comedown

For the past couple of days I have been moody. I think it's because the initial rush of flight has worn off and I have started to resent that the second half of my son's babyhood will pass during a global pandemic. I realize that very statement is indicative of a lack of perspective, and that we are hugely lucky to be healthy, financially secure, and able to flee New York City until the significant danger has passed.

I'm sure there was some mother whose initial response to Kristallnacht was "Dammit, I JUST got the baby on his sleep schedule, and NOW THIS HAPPENS." But that's kind of where I'm at right now.

The good news is, Succotash is great. He is healthy, he is sleeping (okay, with me, all night, which wasn't the plan, but I've decided it is better for us all to be rested and for him to feel totally safe and secure, and best laid plans be damned, and he will learn how to sleep in his own room and bed when he, some day, actually has his own room and bed). He has both is parents to play with all day long, and his elderly, beleaguered but patient dog, on whom we spent some of this morning raining kisses and then we came away with a fistful of apricot-colored fur and the dog didn't even complain.

But it's not what I want for him. I want the baby to be out making friends, going to museums, having experiences. Not moving between three rooms with an occasional walk around the block, weather permitting. I don't want to have to scheme about when and if we will be able to get fresh veggies and fruit as he starts to eat solids. I am angry on his behalf that this is happening.