Sunday, May 27, 2007
I had dirt dessert for my birthday. I liked the bubbles and balloons better than my presents :-)
My friends Savannah and Alison came over for my birthday. I didn't get to celebrate on my birthday because I was sick. I'm all better now!
For Pentecost this year we went to Jubilee Lake in the mountains of Oregon. We had a wonderful picnic in the meadow while Jasper ( our dog) romped and played. I had to check out what Jasper was trying to dig up. Unfortunately I did a head over heels roll into stinging needle. See all my welts? Then we hiked around the lake. I had so much fun that I rode happily ( mostly) for over 2 hours in my stroller. Mom and Dad had to lift me over trees and push me through snow drifts. We also were able to see a deer really close up. She was eating chips out of the hands of some other people there.
Oh, we also were able to sing songs while Daddy played his guitar.
We went to a friends house for a hot dog roast. Lucas occupied himself seated on the ground happily throwing powdery dust upon his head. He ate a hot dog sandwhich with mayo , ketchup, and relish. Hence all the goo on his face. He played so hard that he fell asleep on the way home. Mommy had a hard time waking him up for a bath. There was dirt left in the bathtub after his bath! Notice how gray his head is from the dust!
Such a cute grubby little hand
Friday, May 18, 2007
Right now she is off to spend 45 minutes with Rick. She takes him his lunch every day, and when Lucas is awake she takes him and they visit him at work. Currently, Lucas is asleep, which is where I come in. I'm "watching" the chap. I just spent a few minutes staring at him in his crib, passed out cold, in hopefully a happy dreamland state of being. I know big adults always yak about how cute kids are when they are asleep. "Angelic" I think is the correct term I've heard before. Well, I decided to stare at him and see about that. He had one eye open, so I thought he might be awake so I waved my fingers in front of his eye. No movement. Creepy. But his deep and even breathing assured me he had not gone to a better land (??) but instead lay peacefully oblivious.
Ooooh what I wouldn't give to be in that crib right now. I remember my crib. It was white. Painted. And I had a multi-colored crocheted blankie, all in pastel colors. In one particular memory, I remember the soft touch of my blankie in my hands, lying in my crib staring at the ceiling, and then slowly passing into dreamland myself. It was a Sabbath afternoon. Randomly enough, I remember this, because mom and dad also wanted a "nap" (or ahem, was it? ;) ) so they put me down. Maybe it was to trick me so they could have peace and quiet? No matter their rationale, I remember feeling that blankie in my hands, and gently stroking it because it felt so soft, and then I remember going under, and then waking up with my blankie still wrapped around me. That secure feeling, knowing mom and dad loved each other, and I had my blankie. I didn't want anything more than that.
When I left Lucas' crib I saw Rick and Rachel's wedding bouquet, hanging gracefully in their room. It looked antique, old somehow, but then it was affirming. Do you know how scary relationships are? Do you know how scared of them I am? Or how nervous I am for poor baby Lucas when he gets to be my age? And then sometimes I just have to sit back and remember the good, and remember other good things about other people's relationships. I looked at the wedding bouquet, and remembered Rachel's wedding, and I remembered peeling potatoes for the reception, and the crowd, noise, wedding pictures, me, David, Rick, Rachel, everyone. And then I looked back at Lucas, his chest slowly bobbing up and down in rhythmic silence. Perhaps I still hold to my motto that relationships are hard, but then perhaps, maybe, they are worth it in the end.
Whatever the case, he was angelic. Proof is in the pudding. Proof is in the crib.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Mom took me to see Dr. Wren for my 1 year check up. He's says that I'm developing really well- though I'm a little thin. I've been sick for about a week and a half and not wanting to eat. I weigh 22 lbs 5 ounces -38%. I'm 31 1/2 inches tall -90%. I like to sing " I have hands that clap, clap, clap." with mommy. I grin as a clap my hands.
Everybody at Daddy's new job thinks I'm pretty special. They all make sure to say, "Hi" when we take Daddy his lunch everyday.
I think that my very favorite thing to do is to go outside and play. I like to try to conquer steps, cement block or whatever else I can climb on or over.
Mom and Dad tell me that they are going to make me a sandbox for my birthday. I can't wait!
I'm looking forward to seeing as many of you as possible at Dad's graduation in June.
Monday, May 14, 2007
His swaggering toddle bemuses me. I look at him and think, “shoot. I must have been like that too.”
It is hard to imagine myself as a little girl—many times I look at a picture of myself and I cannot find any emotional tie which affirms that the little person I am looking at is actually me. And here is Lucas, and it is hard to imagine that just one year ago he popped out, kersplat, healthy as can be minus one kidney.
I think one of the biggest gifts a child gives to an adult is the ability to reconnect with, dare I say, one’s inner child (oh, so new age-ish!). I look at the kid, and find myself suddenly trying to see the world through his eyes, through his sense of smell, through his touch, through his height; suddenly, my world seems new, different, exciting, beautiful. The old mundane becomes the new modified excitement of the day, and I copy his giggle just to see what it feels like again to giggle with no apparent reason except I can, he can, we can. I clap my hands, I toddle about, I fall over laughing, and his sparkling eyes follow me in wonder and his laugh affirms me in joy.
Without him to drag me down to his child level, I sincerely believe my life would be too adult-overwhelming right now. I can look at him and my heart melts; I can play with him and I can let go of the stress and forget; and I can hug him to get my quota of lovin’.
It’s his birthday, and it is hard to imagine his littlehood of twelve bygone months, already outgrown, toddling. Tomorrow, he’ll be in my shoes, in college, and I hope he can have a little one like himself to be blessed by and to remember to see the world differently, to see the world not with rose-colored glasses, but through a child’s eyes.