Come Spend the Day With Us
Some days I’m the one with a day off, and other days, my spouse gets the break. A couple Saturdays ago, was one of those parenting days for me—me holding the shape of our son’s day so my partner could have some breathing room, some time for himself.
Morning
It started slowly. I’d been up late the night before, so my spouse took a brief morning shift: got our son from his bassinet, did a Tim’s run for some coffee and croissants, gave him his first feed, and rocked him down for his first nap. I joined in after that nap, when I was more rested and ready for the day.
From there, we were in motion.
He played while I had breakfast and talked to him. Then the fussiness started, we think teething, so I offered him some deep-pressure massage on his legs and arms, something that always helps soothe him. It helped. I fed him, noticed he seemed more tired than usual, and decided to follow his cues. We went upstairs, lay down together, and he drifted off while I stayed beside him, his body tucked up against my leg.
In fact, I’m writing this newsletter in a similar moment, he’s asleep next to me, and I’m comfortably sitting on the bed with my laptop, typing quietly while he breathes against my side.
Later, I changed him into clean clothes (drool central lately), and he enjoyed some solo time in his bassinet, playing with his toes under the slowly spinning mobile. I took that moment to work on an open source project I haven’t touched since before I was pregnant. It felt good, like reconnecting with a version of myself I’d set aside for almost a year.
My spouse joined us for a bit, not to take over, just to hang out. We’re building a 3D printed map to hang on a wall at home, and we spent a little time figuring out how to piece it together. Meanwhile, our son had rediscovered his teethers and was happily chewing away lying on one of his little play mats beside us.
Afternoon
He later devoured some mashed chicken kebab I’d cooked and served in his favourite spoon. Afterward, he was clingy but playful, so we shifted from toy to toy, his curiosity and desires leading the way.
At nap time, I put him down in his own room while I picked my project work back up. He slept for nearly an hour, then woke up cranky. We played, and I encouraged him through a tummy time session, cheering him on as he practiced rolling, something he knows how to do but doesn’t always want to. He complained, but I was down on the floor with him, coaxing and showing him how to shift his weight. We repeated it about ten times before he lost patience, and I rewarded his effort by taking him outside for a sit on the deck.
He was born in late fall, so being outside like this, unwrapped, not in a stroller or car seat, is still new for him. He took it all in with wide eyes while I sat beside him in the breeze, feeling the sun on our backs.
Later, my spouse made lunch while I fed the baby. We ate while our son played in his play gym, then I cleaned him up, changed him again (he had pooped!), and read a book before giving him another semi-contact nap while I started drafting this newsletter.
Evening
When he woke up, I packed the diaper bag and we headed to a small dinner party at his grandma’s house.
There, he got the usual whirlwind of family attention, sweet and sometimes overstimulating. When he started showing signs of fatigue, we wrapped things up and came home.
Diaper change, book, feed, bedtime.
And then finally: a bit of me time. I rolled out a yoga mat and followed a gentle nighttime stretch on YouTube. Just enough movement to feel present in my body again. I ended the day quietly, picking my project work back up while the house settled into sleep, and then slipped into bed tired but content.
Parenting full time is work. It’s tender and tiring and often nonlinear. But it also leaves little openings; pockets of time where I get to be with myself again. Not in huge, uninterrupted stretches, but in bits and pieces that still matter.
Those bits and pieces have definitely gotten longer as our kid grows, but they are still bits and pieces.
These days... they aren’t balanced, but they are intentional, or at least as intentional as we can make them around the whims of a baby. Things don’t always go according to plan, the days aren’t always what we expected, but they are full.
I hope you enjoyed a peek into a very typical full parenting day for me.
Till next week,
Aurooba
