Rainy this morning after an incredibly long spate of beautiful fall weather. Now the leaves are turning to mushy brown mulch in the gutters and the smell of their last hurrah is everywhere.
You were lovely this morning. You brought me both your Thomas trains and I sent them careening over the carpet. You brought them back over and over, hurling them quite ungracefully into my lap. You have figured out how to throw now, though not with any accuracy. Your bottom left tooth (beside the two middle ones) is quite visible and your upper left is just beginning to sprout, just a thin sliver of white.
You rub your hand across your chest when we ask you to say "please" and you say "buh" for "book" and "eee" for "eat." Your three favorite words remain "hi," "wow," and "hot." This is appropriate, I think, since you are a child of exclamations not sedentary nouns. In bed this morning we practiced putting my gold barrettes into your hair and Daddy's hair and my hair. When I asked you to give Daddy a kiss, you leaned forward and pressed your soft sweet cheek against his.
It's been a busy week. We spent a few days at Grandma and Grandpa's house so Daddy and I could go away for an evening. You woke up at 5:30am on the morning we were away, but other than that, your behavior was fairly normal. Daddy and I went to Brit's Pub and played pool and darts and then drank martinis back at our motel (well, I drank a martini, Daddy wisely stuck with beer). The next morning we walked to Barnes and Noble and (because the espresso machine was broken in the cafe) had to read our books and magazines while sitting on a cold heating vent by the window that faces Nicollet Avenue. I was reading about WWII Russia so the cold seemed somehow appropriate--and my latte (scored from Panera) seemed ridiculously luxurious.
Yesterday we spent a lovely morning and afternoon with Carlo and Anjuli. You sensed immediately that Anjuli was a safe, loving, and malleable adult and so you spent most of the day bringing her truck books and waving them at her so she would read to you. Carlo was exceptionally sweet, wiping your ever-snotty nose and patiently withstanding your shoe and dog attacks while he tried to sleep. It was lovely to see you interacting with both of them and it made me sad to think about how rarely you will get to do so.
The mood in our house is a little tense these days. Your father has sent out lots of applications to various jobs--so we're now holding our breath and crossing our fingers. Your father feels the stress the most, I know. He wants to make a lovely life for you and me, Thiz, and feels like this is his responsibility (though it isn't) and so the stress of being continually untenured and untethered wears him down. The uncertainty is stressful for me for different reasons. Unlike your father, for me half of the excitement of any new experience is anticipating it. Reality is never perfect, but anticipation can be. But right now none of the jobs, none of the predictable outcomes are exciting to me. Moving to California or remaining jobless in Minnesota are both less than lovely outcomes in my book. So I'm praying for the ability to remain open to possibility, to take each day as it comes, to recognize that I might not know what is best for us, and for the energy and optimism to make the best of whatever happens. Something I definitely suck at.
Last night on T.V. we saw a preview for a movie called Unstoppable. "It's a biopic of the life of Thisbe Agnes Jothen," said your father. And I agreed. Full steam ahead.
No comments:
Post a Comment