Louis, Louis...Oh, No

Why do all my damn hats have ears on them?

One of the things I've been grappling with of late is summed up by the Louis C.K. quote, "It's hard having kids, because it's boring."  Now, don't get me wrong; hanging out with Milo is basically the highlight of my existence, however, if I were to tally up the minutes a day that I am either sitting on the floor or the bed with him, lifting him out of or buckling him into some sort of chair or swing or jumper, cleaning one end of him or another, feeding him or telling him from the other end of the room that I will be feeding him shortly (as if that has any calming effect), or waiting for him to awaken from a nap so that we can go somewhere...well, that would be approximately eleven hours worth of minutes.

And, man, he flashes me all manner of amazing smiles in that time.  He giggles and coos.  He smells good and can disarm me totally when he leans his sleepy head on my shoulder.  The kid has all sorts of moves that just melt me.  I root for him to do new things, and I am amazed by the things about him that already seem to be consistent and really rather pleasant personality traits. 

But what about when he's not being awesome?  And I'm not really talking about when he's being cranky or difficult.  What about when he's just looking up at something and gnawing on his fist?  I have, up until this point, sort of felt guilty if he's up and in my line of sight (i.e. if I'm not throwing another load of pukey bibs in the washing machine or heating up another mug of coffee) and seemingly paying attention to me, but I want to check my e-mail or read an article or, God forbid, watch a t.v. show.  Am I going to ruin him?  Musn't I be singing the alphabet song or explaining string theory or some such?  Is every moment supposed to be educational and stimulating?  Must I be in babyland for every minute that I am with him, or can I, within the realm of reasonable, safe mothering, watch an episode of What Not To Wear without feeling like I should call Child Protective Services on myself?

Tough parental negotiations here on the homefront, people.