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“Willow likes making things. She isn’t sewing, don’t get me wrong, but Poppy has shown her how to make scarves, headbands, barrettes. Things with glue. Poppy has a lot of extra material she would donate.”
“Which is nice of her. I’m sure all the boys will enjoy that.”
“Don’t take offense to this, but you’re sounding like your father. Boys like to sew. They like to do all the things women do. I get the feeling you want to encourage Max to do what he wants in life, not what someone tells him he has to do.”
“Guess you put me in my place,” he said. That comment made him feel about an inch tall. “Sorry. Sometimes these things come out of my mouth and I recognize them as my father and it kills me.”
“Don’t apologize. I get it. But I wanted to point it out. Your father isn’t the only one that feels that way. Lots of boys do too. Which is why it’s going to be a Mother’s Day project in May.”
He frowned. These were things he hadn’t thought of before. “Some kids might not have a mother.”
“I’m fully aware of that, Ren. And when doing projects like this, I know the household situation of my children. Everyone in my PreK room has a mother in their life. Even if it’s only a stepmother or has two mothers. I’ve got that too.”
“It’s a different society, isn’t it?”
“Very much so,” she said. “It’s more common, as sad as it is, that a father might not be in a child’s life. When that occurs, I talk to the other parent first to find out how we should handle it. Most times there is another male in their life and I make sure we handle it properly.”
He should have figured she’d do that. These were things he’d have to think about another time.
Or maybe not. Not if things went well with Zara.
He told himself he wasn’t planning it and he had to stick to his guns though.
He was going to let as much of it fall into place as it could. There would come a time he’d have to plan, he knew that.
But that day wasn’t today.
“I’m sure the parents appreciate that,” he said.
“They do. I know it’s a little past Max’s bedtime. Do you want to bathe him or clean him up and put him right to bed?”
“A bath,” he said. “I’ve got it in my head the warm water soothes and relaxes him to help him sleep better. He’s slept through the night twice this week.”
“That’s great,” she said. “How come you haven’t said anything?”
“I don’t want to jinx myself.”
He’d taken Zara’s advice and had been cutting back Max’s middle of the night bottle to less and less. Twice Max hadn’t even woken up for it and he was thrilled. Last night he tried to see if Max would go back to sleep on his own, but after ten minutes his son was showing no signs of it.
He’d gotten up and knew it had more to do with the nasty diaper than hunger. If only he could figure that part out.
To get Max back to sleep quicker, he’d given him an ounce in his bottle. Nothing more than if he got up for a drink in the middle of the night himself.
“Then let’s do what you’ve always done,” she said. “With any luck we’ll have the rest of the night to ourselves.”
“Which is part of my plan too,” he said.
“Do you mind if I take a shower once you get the tub filled?” she asked. “I feel like between sitting in the car and then in front of the fireplace at Colin’s that I got sweaty.”
“I plan on it,” he said. “If you want to wait we can take one together?”
He was wiggling his eyebrows at her. “We haven’t done that yet.”
“Nope,” he said. “And we can be as loud as we want in there.”
“Even better,” she said.
He went to the bathroom in the hall and filled the tub for Max while Zara got pajamas and Max’s last bottle of the night ready for him.
