First, despite being sickly (yes again! I don't want to talk about it), I came home during lunch and actually picked up my house. Then, I left work at a reasonable hour, cooked dinner while watching a flick on the ol' porta-player, which eats were done precisely 10 minutes after hub and baby arrived home from their commute in the carpool lane.
Then, we ate dinner. More specifically, the baby ate dinner! It's been a struggle getting him to eat, but triumph of all triumphs: tonight he ate salmon, long grain rice, peas, and butternut squash. Never underestimate the power of toddler forks, I tell you!
After dinner, I played ball with him in the living room. The kid has an arm. It runs in hubs' family, but even so, it's impressive. Plus, he gets all giddy and excited and clumsy with all the excitement of me chasing him and him chasing the ball. It's hilarious. Just ask M, who nearly spewed his mouthful of OJ when I threw that Thomas the Train ball and it rolled up C's body and caught him in the face.
C then had a lovely bath, held still the entire time I dressed him (and we traded all sorts of mouthy sounds back and forth til he was giggling up a storm at me breathing in and out like a dog through my nose). We read a book together, he kissed his Dada good night, pilfered a couple of red grapes from him, then off to bed he went.
As he tried to get settled, he tossed and turned, snuggled on my chest for a while and then I sang some children's hymns to him (in my nasally, crackly, off-key voice) and off to dreamland he went.
It only took 1/2 hour to get him to bed (relief after last night's 2 hour fiasco), and now my husband is standing in front of me resembling something of a David, so I really must go.
But, as for perfect nights, this one's pretty dang close, no?