Today was…rough. For a number of reasons, both personal and professional, I returned home after another long Wednesday feeling completely battered. As I pulled into the driveway and pushed the button to open the garage, I craned my neck, as I always do, to look up to Miles’s bedroom window and see if he’s asleep or not (or, whether he comes to the window or not).
This happens less frequently now than it did a few months ago, which is largely a good thing, since it means he’s going to sleep at a relatively reasonable time. Still, there are definitely nights that I already miss looking up and seeing him wave frantically at me, grinning from ear to ear. Even when I’m exhausted, it’s the best “welcome home” I could ask for.
This is especially true after a day like this one, and while I looked upward as the garage door rumbled open, I wasn’t overly optimistic that I’d see Miles rush over. And yet, after a moment, there was the moving of his drapes, and the lifting of his blinds, followed by that enthusiastic waving.
Right when I needed it most.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 