The room in the corner

Times flies real fast.

The last update was two months ago.

In about a month from today, Baby G will be two years old.

But it is depressive. Depressive enough to have me hiding in the room every time I come back from work.

Most of the time I will come back to a big mess. The kitchen and the hall looks about the same now. I saw on the sofa patches of hand soap. I am not going to help clean it. Shaver lying around the floor. If one day Baby G ends up bloody, I am not going to even feel surprised.

Once upon a time, I made him take out a piece of glass that he was happily sucking in his mouth. The surprise factor is no more there. That I can say.

How is one going to take care of a child, if the person were to only laugh and smile to themselves in front of the computer for almost all the time.

This is no time to point fingers.

You cannot blame a barely two year old kid that he is being naughty taking things out. You cannot blame him for wanting to play. That is what kids do best.

You cannot scream at him asking him what does he want. He does not understand you, because you never taught him how to.

And that is why I hid in the room. Away from all the blasphemy.