building blocks...first steps
Uncarye?
Sleeepy.
"Okay, buddy. Let's get you into bed." His uncle picks him up. Jamie loves that. He has got the hang of walking but there are still times he likes being carried. Especially when there are grownups around with much longer legs.
He puts his head down on Unca'rye's shoulder, closing his eyes. It's safe and warm and
he's tiiired. They ate earlier, and Jamie listened to Ryan reading him a story. Getting new
words is hard work. But he likes it. Mama makes funny faces when he gets them right.
"Outside" was good for a LOT of those. It's still one of his favorites.
Ryan manuvers around blocks and soft toys on the living room carpet. The apartment's been blessedly quiet today. He settles Jamie into bed. The little boy's asleep almost as soon as he's put down.
He sits in a chair, nearby, just sits and watches Jamie sleep for he couldn't say how long.
Had he always wanted children?
Yes. He still does, though if he could somehow trade places with Andrea--
He cuts off that line of thought. It's not possible. Agonizing over this won't make it any easier. If Jamie can remember his mother, Ryan doesn't want him remembering pain or grief
instead of the good things, happiness, being loved and wanted.
Building blocks. Love, patience, acceptance, commitment.
He leans over and kisses the top of the toddler's head, before tiptoeing out of the makeshift nursery.
Sleeepy.
"Okay, buddy. Let's get you into bed." His uncle picks him up. Jamie loves that. He has got the hang of walking but there are still times he likes being carried. Especially when there are grownups around with much longer legs.
He puts his head down on Unca'rye's shoulder, closing his eyes. It's safe and warm and
he's tiiired. They ate earlier, and Jamie listened to Ryan reading him a story. Getting new
words is hard work. But he likes it. Mama makes funny faces when he gets them right.
"Outside" was good for a LOT of those. It's still one of his favorites.
Ryan manuvers around blocks and soft toys on the living room carpet. The apartment's been blessedly quiet today. He settles Jamie into bed. The little boy's asleep almost as soon as he's put down.
He sits in a chair, nearby, just sits and watches Jamie sleep for he couldn't say how long.
Had he always wanted children?
Yes. He still does, though if he could somehow trade places with Andrea--
He cuts off that line of thought. It's not possible. Agonizing over this won't make it any easier. If Jamie can remember his mother, Ryan doesn't want him remembering pain or grief
instead of the good things, happiness, being loved and wanted.
Building blocks. Love, patience, acceptance, commitment.
He leans over and kisses the top of the toddler's head, before tiptoeing out of the makeshift nursery.