To Build A Home

Chapter 17- So Far So Good

   Sunday. That meant Steven was out in the morning to buy groceries and other necessities for the week.
   Krolia was left with at the house with Keith, something she definitely didn't mind.
   Just under four weeks old, Keith had figured out how to hold his head up. He still needed some help every now and then, but he was close to being a pro. As well as this, he has also learned, or more so taught his parents, the most basic ways for him to communicate. Crying signified he was hungry or uncomfortable in his diaper, cooing and quiet mumbles said he was happy. Of course, some things meant more than one emotion or need, but Keith somehow knew his mother and father who do what they could to keep him happy and content.
   Krolia sat at the kitchen table folding some of Keith's onesies, shirts, and pants. She despised doing laundry, but handling Keith's clothing was a bit different. She preferred it. Keith's laundry was the only laundry she would do willingly.
   Keith was fast asleep in his crib. A newer one than the one upstairs, Steven had bought it two weeks ago. He took Krolia's advice and got a second crib for the child, one he could be in while his parents were downstairs. It was nothing special, just a small crib with white railings and tiny, cartoon animals on the headrest. Though it was technically more detailed than his 'real' crib, it was somewhat smaller, not meant for all stages of an infant's age. It was, in all likelihood, going to be too small for him by the age of two or three, but hopefully he wouldn't need it at that point.
   The crib itself was placed between the couch and the kitchen table. That was the most accessible and equidistant place from everywhere downstairs. Plus, it was a nice location for him to rest, he liked the close proximity to his parents.
   Every so often, Krolia would turn her head to make sure he was still asleep, and if he wasn't, she would gladly pick him up to give him some much wanted and deserved attention.
   A small cry came from behind her, and she placed the pice of clothing in her hands down on the tabletop in front of her.
   Keith had woken up from a nap, being very clear about his feelings for waking up 'alone'.
   "Okay.... Mama is here." With gentle hands, she brought the child to her chest, swaying back and forth slowly in an attempt to quiet his cries. "Hush... There's no need to cry."
   The infant instantly leaned his head on his mother's shoulder, pinching a tiny amount of fabric from her shirt between his short fingers.
"Is little Keith hungry? Or does he just want cuddles?"
His cries only lessened, he wasn't hungry, nor did he need a diaper change, at least not yet. The child simply wanted to be held, to be hugged, to be loved by his mother. His mother who loved nothing more than to provide him with what he wanted and needed.
   "You just want some cuddles from Mama, don't you?"
More than happy to take a break from the housecleaning duties, she took a seat on the couch, leaning back so that she was almost lying down. Propping herself up with a pillow, she loosely held onto her son, letting him lie on top of her, something the both of them liked very much.
Keith relaxed on her chest, his head resting below her chin, Little Blue in his left hand.
"Daddy said you're not quite old enough to watch television. I don't think you'd be able to see it, or be interested in it." She ran her fingers over his chubby arms, happiness filling every inch of her body as he smiled at her touch. "Mama doesn't like television anyway. Books and radio broadcasts are better."
   Letting go of his mother's shirt, he brought his hand to his mouth, sucks on his thumb.
   "Well, you're not exactly old enough to do anything." She teased, giving a content smile and kissing the top of her son's head. Keith, in tern, smiled at her actions. "You're very adorable, do you know that? Is that how you get everything you ask for...?"
Slightly adjusting himself to a more comfortable position, Keith fussed quietly atop his mother. He was calm, for now. Being as young as he was, his mood could change at any moment.
Krolia placed a gentle hand on her son's back, rubbing her thumb up and down his shoulder blades soothingly. "Mama likes giving you attention. Mama loves you, and I know you are aware of that."
   Keith made no effort to respond in any way. The child wasn't asleep, he was just resting peacefully, still slightly smiling as his mother lovingly rubbed his back.
   "Alright... You want me to be quiet. Mama will leave you to sleep..."