I am convinced that babies can tell time. Well, at least mine seems to be able to, for each day at around 4 o’clock, Liam starts asking for “Dada.” Normally, Stuart arrives home from the University at about 5, and on most days, I try to make sure we are waiting for him at the front window. While we wait, Liam fumbles with the curtains, we sing songs, he babbles and he says “Dada” a lot. He fixates on any person, male or female, who passes our house, staring intently as they approach, making sure to study every feature…he doesn’t want to miss a thing, especially when it comes to one particular person.
When Stuart finally comes into view, Liam’s little mouth forms into the biggest smile. He exclaims “Dada” proudly, as if to say, “see Mom, I told you he was coming home.” Stuart pauses on the front walk, waves at our son, and makes a silly face. As he comes through the front door, Liam is laughing and smiling and hoping for a cuddle. Stuart is welcomed home in the most sincere way.
Although I will readily admit that parenting sure does have it’s up’s and down’s, I know this moment of each day is a highlight for my son and especially my husband. On any given day I could clean the house from top to bottom, light candles, play Stuart’s favorite CD and cook a fancy dinner for his home-coming. But all of these things seem so insignificant in comparison to the simple welcome that Stuart gets from our child. What a wonderful feeling to come home to.