I take on more responsibility in the home

Yesterday’s temperature plunged to sixty (F); it felt downright cold. I decided that Samuel should wear pants. He thought this was hilarious; he thrashed and thrashed, taking one leg out of his pants while I tried to put the other leg in. He did this every time I changed his diaper.

I do my share of caring for the boy; but, also, until now, I’d hardly ever bathed him or put him to sleep at night. I’m expert at putting him to sleep during the day, but the night-time task is altogether different. I’ve regarded it, and the bathing, as within Karin’s sphere. Well, tonight, I did both those chores (Karin needed to compose her remarks for Rick’s funeral). I did the bathing particularly badly. Samuel wasn’t pleased. He usually lingers in the tub and splashes the water with his legs for several minutes after he’s clean; this time, he was eager to get out. But he came through the ordeal. I expected his bedtime ritual to go even less smoothly. But he listened respectfully as I read to him, and he finally dozed off during his third book, Dr. Seuss’s Fox in Socks.

There is a social worker who talks to us about our baby every other week. It seems she’s been grading Samuel. Two weeks ago, all his grades were high, except in the category of gross motor skills; but this week, the social worker was pleased to report that his gross motor skills had received a grade of 55 out of 60.