Not sure if I'm ready to define myself as a blogger yet, but I certainly qualify as a Dad on the run. My daughter, I think we'll call her J Bean, is 21 months old and really starting to come into her own in the area of manipulation. I don't mean this in any sinister sort of way, only that if she wants milk in her sippy cup or her favorite movie in with dinner you'll soon find yourself providing these things. At times I feel like an unwitting concierge. J Bean is still in the habit of using one-word sentences for the most part, which can come off as staccato demands from a pint-sized dictator at times... "MILK!".... "MUSIC!" .... "ELMO!"
My wife, hereafter referred to as VeeVee, spends the better part of every weekday in the office but she is close enough for me and lil Bean to visit her for lunch or dinner when she has the time between meetings. J Bean has taken to delaying VeeVee's departures with repeated requests for kisses and hugs when she leaves in the morning and always welcomes her home with both hands in the air and screeches of delight. This ritual takes place consistently with no concern for what we have going on at the moment of Mom's arrival. I've been left holding a bib I was about to put on her or caught random toys as they are dropped or thrown mid-play.
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