James is now four months old. He's been growing well and seems to be "meeting milestones." Perhaps my role will increase later, but for now, I'm amazed at how parents tend to take credit for such successes. Basically, the babies do it on their own, as long as you communicate with them, feed them, and occasionally clean them.
So, James is taken care of. Now, for me. What will it take to make me happy, and to help me continue to grow? (or, at the very least, stay sane - a theory exists that a woman gets 25% crazier with each child. A theory propogated by men, of course.)
As you know, I split my time between North Carolina and London. Today, in an effort to expand my realm, I am at London's Third Door, a workplace/nursery. I've left James downstairs with the childcare people and am upstairs working and drinking coffee. It's an amazingly freeing concept. I can pop down and breastfeed James when I want, or leave a bottle (James prefers the mimijumi type) of expressed milk. Meanwhile, James gets to interact with other babies and toddlers, and gets to use new toys and be exposed to new things. Upstairs are a series of tables, phone booths, meeting rooms, and a kitchen. For me, the appealing thing is that, unlike a standard nursery, I can use the "pay as you go" option and not be committed to a specific period of time. Even though these facilities are about 45 minutes from me by bus, I feel liberated.
So, James and I are each taking care of ourselves, one floor apart.
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