Some Fragments Before I Forget

You have spent today turning in a circle and then plopping down on your butt when you get dizzy.

Yesterday, you discovered your shadow.

We go on long walks. Long not because of distance but because it takes us a long time to cover a very short amount of space. You like to check out sticks and leaves and rocks. You like to pick at pits of tar and scratch at the anthills thriving between pavement slabs. Sometimes you hold my finger or Daddy's finger while you walk but most of the time you are just your own breathless force, trying to run, almost-tripping with every step but then righting your self and continuing.

You've been needy, extra needy.

You nurse twice per day, morning and night.

Maybe this is why you're extra needy.

You're still beautiful while you sleep.

You love cheesy noodles.

You like other things if you don't know the cheezy noodles are available. Once you become aware of cheezy noodle availability, you drop clumps of other foods off the side of your highchair.

Last night I made Greek stew: spinach and cheese and onion and garlic and potatoes and black olives. You liked it OK. You liked it better once I mixed in some noodles.

I forgot to say in the last post that at the potluck you were a disaster. You hadn't slept for 7 hours and if Daddy or I would walk out of sight you would burst into tears.

Your only truly consistent words are "hi" and "ay-yai-yai" although every day either Daddy or I claims you've got a new one mastered. Today Daddy said you knew "boy." And maybe you did at 11am. But not at 6pm.

Tomorrow we leave for an overnight biking trip with Ricki and Peter and Michael and Agnes. Not sure how you'll do in the bike trailer. Hoping for the best--bracing for the worst.

In the mornings I work on syllabi and think about submitting poems and stories to journals.

I have gray hairs. Did I tell you this yet? Yours are growing in blond and mine are growing in gray and sometimes the circle of life just kind of makes me want to puke.

I have terrible allergies. I am drinking pinot grigio from a box and sneezing.

Today you and I walked downtown together. You rode in the hiking backpack. We got iced coffee at Blue Monday and then checked out shoes at Rare Pair. We stocked up on string cheese and some suspicious-looking Gerber instant meals at Econo Foods and then walked back. Over the river. You were content the whole time and cried when I took you off my back.