Little Nio and I are doing well. We manage, but I would be lying if I said things have been easy. Things have been very difficult for us both, but we manage. I'm not sure that Little Nio knows what is going on, or if he misses his mother, but I know that I miss my wife.
Our regular daily schedule has us waking up at six in the morning. I run a bath for him and double check to make sure that his day bag, prepared the night before, is squared away properly — four bottles of milk, two bottles of sterilized water, a full pack of wet wipes, four diapers, plastic bags, a spare set of clothes and some cloth diapers for wiping his nose. This should be enough to last the day. It takes a bit of effort to get him out of bed and into the bath, but if he wakes up nicely he can be very cooperative. If he's not really awake or grumpy, it's like moving a heavy bag of potatoes.
Once in the bath things go fairly quickly. There's the expected resistance to getting wet initially. Then, once thoroughly soaked in the tub and enjoying himself, there is the resistance to get him out of the water. Drying him up and getting him dressed is a challenge since Little Nio does tend to run around quite a bit. Get the cream to prevent diaper rash on him, followed by a layer of powder to prevent chaffing and help keep him cool. Followed closely by putting on the disposable diaper are his shirt and trousers. Dressing him up is actually very easy, he only needs a bit of guidance to get all the limbs placed into the right holes of the clothing. By next year, he should be dressing himself up, I think.
I give him a chance to run around and play with a few things while I clean up the bathroom, make the bed and tidy up the bedroom. Once everything is put in to some semblance of order we go down to the second floor. I switch on the television for a wee bit of cartoons while I go downstairs to get him his breakfast. I make sure to bring down the empty bottles from the night before so that our household help can wash and sterilize these used bottles. Once Little Nio is settled down to breakfast, I rush to get showered and changed myself. That doesn't take too long as I usually prepare things the night before and it's almost an automated process.
At every stage of getting ready, I sneak out to see what Little Nio is doing. Get out of the shower - check on him. Finish brushing teeth - check on him. Get dressed - check on him. Stuff pockets with all sorts of stuff (wallet, handkerchief, keys, etcetera) - check on him. Samuel also comes to keep him company.
By the time I'm done, Little Nio is just about done with breakfast and I have a moment or two to make sure that he's eaten enough. I clean him up, put the family room in order and take down the breakfast dishes and our bags. He usually follows down by himself, but I make sure he's holding on to me or the handrail properly.
Little Nio gets his own shoes off the shoe rack and puts them on by himself. By this time the front door is open and I'm loading our bags into the car. My gear in the rear, all his stuff in front with him in the front passenger seat securely strapped in to his car seat.
Huge debate about that being the best place for a child, but when it's just the two of us in the car it's really difficult to tend to him when he's sitting in the back while I'm driving. This way he can see where we are going, what's going on and we can even have little conversations about all the lousy drivers in Bangkok.
On the elevated toll way there are a lot of motorcycle traffic police stationed at every on/off ramp and when Little Nio spots them he yells out "POO-LEE-KAH!!!" repeatedly, which translates as "police car". Even though there isn't a car in sight, or even if it is a lone policeman standing at an intersection, they are all collectively lumped under the term "poo-lee-kah". He will continue yelling this out at the top of his lungs until I acknowledge that he's spotted them. He'll be quiet until the next junction where there are more policemen stationed.
By the time we get to the last traffic light before his stop, I have time to make a quick call to the day care center, Fullakids, so that they can send someone down to fetch Little Nio from the car.
Once he's at the Day Care, I can then start my regular work day. Some days I manage to have lunch with him. I walk over from the office, pick him up, then we walk together to find some place to eat. Sometimes it will be simple like a bowl of noodles from the sidewalk vendors, other times we will sit down at a nice restaurant across the street from my office building. On a few occasions we even walk all the way to a big department store, Central Chidlom, spend time in the toy section and then grab something simple to eat. After lunch I walk him back to the day care center and continue my day.
At the end of the work day, I will come by to pick him up then we walk back together to the office where the car is parked. Walking back with Little Nio is an adventure in itself. He is a master of "lollygagging", the aimless meander with only a vague intention to get led back to the parked car. He will stop to inspect everything. He will wave to all the familiar faces along the way and he will try to make friends whenever he meets a friendly smile. He will check uneven paving blocks, stomp at fallen leaves and point animatedly at any vehicle that catches his imagination. It takes me two minutes to get to his day care from the office, but it sometimes takes fifteen minutes to get back.
Once we finally reach the building we get invariably dragged into the grocery at the ground level, Villa Market, where we usually grab a snack for Little Nio and do some last minute shopping. He is very popular with all the ladies who are at the cash registers, not only because he is cute but because he is such a character. By the time we get into the car and start our drive home it is almost six in the evening. Some days even later than that.
If we are hungry and I know that there is nothing to eat at home, or I am out of energy to prepare anything myself, then we will make a stop for dinner along the way home. One favorite place is the Suan Lum Night Bazaar, where they always have lots of good things to eat and a lot of things to see.
With traffic and dinner behind us we get home at about eight in the evening. This give us just enough time to put our things away and prepare his bag for the next day — four bottles of milk, two of water, four disposable diapers, two cloth diapers for wiping, plastic bags for soiled clothing, and a spare change of clothes. Then it's time for the evening bath. We try to do this as quickly as possible, but that doesn't always work. He enjoys himself in the bath and also enjoys getting chased out of the bath dripping wet, but once he's in his night clothes he slowly starts to change into low gear. He'll do a bit of playing and watch some television while I take care of my own thing, and he does pretty well on his own but I do keep an eye and an ear open just in case.
By ten at night we are usually in bed. Some days I get lucky and we are under the sheets by nine in the evening. Other days are not so good, and even though we are in bed Little Nio is still wide awake at midnight. The only thing that seems to work for him is switching the channels over to "Chic Channel" which has a show called "Midnight Fashion" that features scantily clad women modeling lingerie and swimwear. Little Nio calms down, takes his bottle of milk and settles in to watch the bikini beauties prancing around and he eventually drifts off to sleep.
And then we start the day all over again.
