You like to see moments like this when you're a parent, a happy giddy child in the throes of a massive gigglefest. Unfortunately, this is only a small fraction of parenting bliss when raising a soon-to-be toddler. The other quite larger fraction of the equation being the force-feeding of vegetables, the nappy changing, the more ever-present moodiness of miserable unhousebroken child. Soon enough, she will be off to school four years on, and I'll remember these moments rather than the negative ones, and I'll be the miserable one, bewept over the joyous moments of wonder. There she will be a teenager-in-training, meeting new friends, gaining in new influences, distancing herself from the influence of her natural parents.
The need to remind myself of these moments is ever more apparent, and though I highly value my private time, I absolutely treasure the weekends alone with my daughter while her mother is out working for the measly few bits we need to sustain a family.
No real notes on the Red Sox today, as I missed the majority of last night's game whilst we visited Miss Sierra's Pappa in Underhill, but was pleasantly unsurprised once we hopped back in the car to retreat home, as the Sox were up 3-0 mid-game. Final score: 4-0, Lester pitched well and there was a moment where the benches cleared to the field, but no punches were thrown after a knock-down pitch. The Sox stay ahead of the second place Yanks by 6.5 games, who lead the other teams for the wild card spot.