Lately, when I’m tired of trying to Do Productive Things, I’ve been visiting www.freerice.com. If you haven’t seen this site already, it’s kind of like the GRE or other standardized test. It gives you a word and you have to match its definition. If you answer right, the site donates 20 grains of rice through the United Nations to help end world hunger. So not only am I doing something that exercises my brain on the Internet (for once), but I also get to feed the needy. Those 20 grains for each right answer add up fast, I’ve already donated several thousand grains personally, which translates into at least a few full servings. Not only that, I feel smart, being a word nerd and all, and I also get to learn more words in the process.

And speaking of learning new words, my son is figuring out how to use his voice more and more every day. He coos after a diaper change, but it’s a different sound than when he coos after a sneeze, which are both entirely different from when he’s just hanging out and babbling. He’s been trying out different vowel sounds, which at times even respond to what we say like we’re having an actual conversation. And his smiles are getting bigger, more frequent. It’s amazing to watch. And to listen.

We read stories and poems together, and he’s getting better at sitting by himself for a few minutes so that I can eat or cook or something. And speaking of cooking, why has no one revealed to me the magic of the slow cooker before this time? We had a roast the other day, and yeah, it’s not easy peeling potatoes while a baby demands your full attention from the other room, but Oh. My. God. what a dinner! In fact, I’ve a good mind to experiment with other recipes in that slow cooker cookbook, especially the ones where you just dump all the ingredients into the thing, turn it on, and several hours later enjoy a delicious home cooked meal.

But I digest. I’m still getting the hang of this at home time management thing, because I still never know when a nap might actually occur and how long it may last if I can manage to get the boy to sleep. So I’m trying my best, and hopefully I’ll be able to get some actual paying work done this week like I promised I would.

Even when he’s not screaming or talking to me, though, I find myself inexplicably drawn to him. I want to look at his daily changing features and memorize each raise of his eyebrow and curl of his lip. The way he looks up at me when I’m feeding him and reaches his arm up to grasp the fabric of my shirt. How lucky am I? It almost makes me feel guilty. Almost.