Logging the Hours

There was a lovely article in the newspaper yesterday that probably didn't make the deadline for the Father's Day issue. It was written by a single father to two adpoted sons. One of the things he wrote was that when it comes to babies and very young children, quantity time is what matters. I couldn't help but agree.

Babies develop attachments to those who constantly care for them. As toddlers, separation anxiety develops with the fear of being apart from these people. The writer mentioned that when his son fell and hurt himself, he ran howling straight past him into the arms of his nanny, breaking his father's heart. While he longed to spend more time with his kids, he couldn't because he had to put in long hours at a demanding job as the breadwinner of his family (unmarried, he lives with his mother, siblings, nephews and nieces, his adopted sons and a host of nannies and househelp.)

Now that he is out of work, my husband has been spending much more time at home, and with Little A. After 18 months of hardly seeing his father, Little is used to having his dad around the house now, and looks for him when he is gone. I am the caregiver, his father is the playmate. Their favourite activity involves my son holding on to his father's hands, climbing up to his chest, then pushing with his feet so that his body is hanging upside-down. This game, repeated endlessly in the evenings, is the source of much laughter and muscle pains.

Sooner rather than later, my husband or I must find a more permanent means of income. This will no doubt involve one of us (Big A, more likely) spending more time away from home and our son. He is older now, but still very much in his formative years, and will certainly suffer some emotional trauma from this change. We will all have to make adjustments and find new ways of maximizing our time together. Until that day comes though, we will enjoy spending all the time we can in each other's company.

First Date

My husband and I went out the other night. Together. For the first time in 18 months. Since our son was born, I've stayed home to care for him full time, and can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times (and hours) he's been left with other people to look after him. This was the first time we'd left him with anyone other than his grandparents, and for longer than an hour, so it was kind of a big deal for us all.

In the past year and a half, I'd only been able to see my friends less than a half-dozen times, and usually with baby-in-tow or at our flat, so Little A could run around comfortably while I entertained while looking after him. This time we left him in the care of our daily girl and her new companion, the au pair. Both have had experience looking after young children before, and Little A had a few days to get used to the au pair feeding and accompanying him on his walks so we figured it was then or never.

The evening out was a couple of hours spent at a pub in the company of old friends from university, with the exception of one who'd moved to Edinburgh and another, my sister, who was home looking after her two kids that were down with a tummy bug. It was wonderful to see them all and catch up on who was seeing whom and working where. It was equally nice to run into some other friends and realize that in my 18 months of absence from Manila's social scene, not much had changed.

The Home Front

On the way to the pub, I realized we should have left some emergency cash in case Little A suddenly needed to be rushed to hospital or something. This is something we'll definitely be doing in the future. I'd left my mobile with my husband's number on speed dial, so that they could ring us if necessary.

An hour after we left, my husband phoned home to check on them, and reported that all was well. Little A was watching his dvds, drinking his milk and otherwise happy.

When we got home at 11pm, our son was still awake, but losing the battle against waves of sleepiness that threatened to overwhelm him. Upon seeing me, he took my hand, led me to the bed, then raised his arms to be picked up and leaned over towards his pillow. He was asleep in minutes.

A Sign of Things to Come

According to the day girl and the au pair, Little A only cried briefly once during our absence, when he ran into the kitchen looking for us after discovering we weren't in any of the other rooms. But he was quickly distracted by the television. He also consumed a large quantity of milk, to my delight. Still, he woke up more often than usual that night, and each time made sure I was right there next to him.

It's a start, and the second time will come in another couple of days, when we join my husband's friends for dinner at a new restaurant close by. Now that our little boy is older, hopefully he will soon start falling asleep on his own, sleeping through the night, and with a little bit of luck, weaning fully from the breast before his second birthday. I'll keep my toes and fingers crossed.