michael makes me love him

Tonight after applying the Vicks Vape-o-Rub for babies, the Ambesol on squeamish gums, the vitamin E stick on chapped cheeks and nostrils, I dosed our tiniest man with a little cold medicine. So he can breathe people. Not to get him drunk or anything! And then he gagged a little. He spit up, and then barf was pouring in a thick, voluminous and silent fountain from little Ocho's font. I said, lean him forward Honey (and almost chuckled) BUT I DID NOT LAUGH. Michael was holding him, you see. Michael that likes to pretend to gag because it makes me a little ookey. Michael who talks about ants in our bed- when he knows I have a hard time spelling ant- let alone thinking about them sharing our covers. It was Michael's crotch I had to wipe off before he got up from the sofa, telling little Hen he was ok and asking me if he had barley for dinner. It was also Michael who- as he unzipped the light blue, bunny footed pj's (Henry was wearing for the last time- because we don't believe in binding feet) said over Henry's curly head- we should really take a picture.

After I took this he said- I suppose we can't shout this out. Hee.

surprise is overrated

I have to say it again. I am rarely surprised. Truly. My brain and demeanor- aided by what I've read and watched- along with my quick wit (ok, now I'm just tooting my own horn)- but I just rarely am surprised.
These tiny people at our house do surprise me- constantly- but on a standard, they are not punching out Mozart or even repeating all the words in the flash card deck or wrapping up a day without shedding a tear- either of them- so surprised by the effort they make and the fact that they are here at all- that they play together and feed themselves- yep, surprise. Still, they've been sick and it could be that I'm just not pushing them hard enough- that I'm being too easy on them, or those around me- that I don't ask more of my days- or my people. I wonder if- combining two of my favorite activities of late might assist me in finding a little surprise- to get me through to February?
I watch a little late night Masterpiece(s)-Complete Jane Austen.
I also run off to Target- letting the man of my house play with his boys while I contemplate cleaners or birthday cards or my unusual attachment to plastic plates in it's varied isles. "Let it happen, bring it on" a modern Jane might whisper in my ear as I pass maternity clothes, men's Sponge Bob pajama pants, blue plastic Crock knock-offs I pick up and imagine Aidan wearing around the pool in Orlando as Henry floats by in his baby inner-tube bathed in sunscreen and awash in chlorine. "No, I say, Jane- nothing new. Same Target, different day."
And then, I am. Wholeheartedly surprised. And shocked, embarrassed, broken to my core. I put the mock Crocks back- deeming them unsafe as I hear from a neon-clad isle over, I kid you not, "Mom why did you adopt me anyway- so you can yell at me to be quiet and shut my mouth all the time?" Mom, almost ran into me- as I was on the move and so was she. She saw my face, my eyes, my unwashed hair pulled into a lazy ponytail. She read my surprise like I would like to take the time to read Jane instead of watching it acted out on my tv. But Jane without the costumes and the ancient trees and manor houses pales to the moment I watched, slack-jawed, that mother turn on her heel to flip quietly on her adopted preteen daughter. Her index finger accentuated what I couldn't hear. But the topper- even though my surprise I now shared with the unshakable brown skinned girl pushing the empty red cart- the topper was- she shot back at her mother- loudly enough for me to hear- "Then why don't you prove it?"


Sleep tight blondie-blondie, cry tomorrow if you want, eat as many bites of banana yogurt as you did today. Read the Little Fur Family with your legs crossed neatly in front of you. Sweet curly top-knit your transparent webby drool, howl when your brother takes away your newly acquired pacifier, spit out your green beans, bang your head to your invisible drummer.
Just don't surprise me. I don't think I could take it.

signs of light

Last night as Aidan and I walked home from visiting Rudy at Steph's and Sammy's, Aidan made the sign for light. It was a clear and chilly night and the stars were out as well as a good hunk of moon. I couldn't figure it out- but the books I read about signing with a baby says many times parents aren't observant enough to read baby signs. Once we got inside the house and were warm and A did the sign for light again, I got it. I guess it's not a biggie- but I think it was the first time Aidan saw the stars and moon in the sky and used his words to let me know he saw them. What a delicious baby.
Oh yes! Henry has some news today too! He is scooting backward- just as Aidan did when he was learning to crawl. At least I can recognize that move! He sets his sights on a toy at the edge of his blanket. Sticks out his little lizard tongue and starts scooting. in the opposite direction. Yeah!

booty call-waiting

Arlo spent the morning waiting for something to happen. School was two hours late due to snowfall- so Sammy came over for a bit before we took her to school. Other than that it was just the usual. Much to his chilly buns chagrin.

a change today

Today while Aidan and I play "What can Aidan do?" I get a smile. A huge smile on my face that stretches me somehow. Stretches me from one kind of mom to another. As we till the kitchen- me, the beast and A the farmer calling out to me in encouraging whoops- and Henry out there on the living room floor surrounded by toys Aidan deems acceptable for Henry and not too recently his- I became the mom of balance and security. Don't get me wrong- I will secure this boy- and curly top too- to the day I find is my last- but today, Aidan ran and walked and tumbled about me as if my moon. And every time he started to seriously get behind or wobble ferociously enough to drop his sippy cup he reached for me. Every time. He held my leg like a sick sailor grasps a mast in rough seas. I know I've been grumbling that I can't quietly take three steps from this little bugger lately- but damn. Things change when you feel fingers search for seams. Apron strings.

scary info and sad

click here to learn more

I'm not sure if they have assigned someone's life a $ total. Regardless, this is so scary to me, I can't think of anything else to say.

end of 2007 slide extravaganza!

A tiny update... Aidan runs, laughs, signs, talks, hugs, waves, shares, eats, sleeps, dances, reads, grows & grows.
Henry rolls, laughs, kisses, sits, plays, eats, drinks, covets, grabs, throws, grows & grows.
Michael and I grow & grow- ha ha ha. We've had the best year ever and hope you have too. We traveled some, fished and golfed some, saw our friends some and did some things that were important to us. We worked hard in 2007 and look forward to doing more in 2008. Live well, hug your peeps-love to you all! Congrats to Mel, Heather and Monique! Yippeeeee!