‘Seriously son, I have to get this done; Mommy has homework,
you know.’ Jen held her laptop with her left hand and leaned down to pick up
her 9 month old son with her right. He was trying to climb up her legs,
grabbing her jeans with his little fingers and whining to get her attention.
She lifted him off the ground and set up down again, two feet away from her.
She dropped his favorite toy into his lap. ‘Please baby, just give me a few
more minutes.’ She sighed as he immediately began crying. ‘Oh all right, let me
save what I’ve done and then I’ll get you a bottle.’
She clicked a few buttons on the screen, sighing again as Henry’s
cries escalated. The balancing act of being a stay-at-home mother during the
day, full time student in the evenings, and part time employee whenever should
could fit work from home in was beginning to show in the dark circles under her
eyes and the clumps of hair she pulled out each time she brushed her hair. The
stress sometimes kept her awake at night, wondering how she was going to go to
class, attend a meeting, and tuck her son in to bed all at the same time. Jen
closed her computer and put it up on the shelf, out of Henry’s reach. ‘All
right, all right,’ Jen picked her son up, kissed his forehead, and gave a small
laugh as his cries immediately stopped. ‘Oh, you!’
Henry’s hand immediately went for the drawstring on her
hoodie. He pulled on it and began goo-ing and coo-ing at it, examining it with
his tiny fingers. Mommy’s hoodies were always fun to play with, and she never
seemed to mind that he shoved as much of the drawstring in his mouth as he
could, soaking it by the time she put him back down on the floor again.
Jen took Henry into the kitchen and turned the kitchen tap
on. She stood there with her finger in the stream of water, waiting for it to
get warm. ‘Ok, let’s get a bottle and Mommy will snuggle with you.’ Henry’s
attention turned to the sound of the water. He reached for it and began
babbling away, telling it what was what.
Grabbing a bottle from the cupboard, Jen filled it to seven
ounces and dumped several scoops of formula in.
As soon as Jen began shaking the bottle to mix it up, Henry
started his anxious cries again. What if she decided not to feed it to him?
What was taking so long? Must she shake it so many times? Sitting down was
absolutely torture—the shaking stopped and he couldn’t see the bottle any
longer. What if it had disappeared and she was no longer going to give him the
much needed seven ounces, the bottle he expected four times a day? Oh, but
suddenly there it is again, sizzling as the lid comes off and some of the air
escapes from the bottle. Thank goodness—she put it in his mouth and his
desperation ceased, disappearing with the sucking noises he made as he gulped
the milk down.
Jen leaned back against the couch and looked down at her
little boy. ‘You know, it’s a good thing you’re the most adorable baby in the
world.’ Henry’s blue eyes gazed up at her adoringly. Jen smiled: ‘I love you
son.’
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