symonx

Alena is waiting for a delivery at her parents house. Jesse is at school. Ivy woke up from her nap around 1:15 and I brought her to the living room and held her close for a few minutes. She is readjusting to the waking world.
Her little body feels warm and safe in my arms.
I adore the brief moments she cuddles with me, when she feels completely relaxed and unencumbered by the world. Soon she is playing with toys and I am putting on some music to help pass the time.
Somewhere in my mind I knew I should check her diaper and then get out her lunch. But I started to doze a little bit, having last slept for a 5 hour set. Every few minutes Ivy brings me a jumble of toy necklaces and bracelets to untangle.
But then she brings me a “pouch”, our word for this small packet of fruit puree that Alena and I know we need to stop buying as they made some kind of convenient sense for babies, but not much sense for toddlers who don’t need the sugar of fruit without the fiber of the re