Sunday, March 6, 2011
Time is zooming. It's March already. My boy's about to be six. six! I know I shouldn't be sad about my kids getting older, but I am. Especially Henry. I love him so, so much. Tonight I was looking nostalgically through old pictures of him, and Nate came in and said, "He's your favorite creature. There's no secret about that." I don't know what it is, but there is a bond so tender and deep with that boy. Part of it lies in our similarity. He loves to be home, loves to be cozy, loves a project, hates to rush, likes to chat, loves to snuggle. And so do I. He's hesitant about a night away from his bed, cautious about many things, extremely observant, timid around strangers (but instantly warm and comfortable with a soul that he can discern is good and genuine), eager to please, and a tiny bit lazy. And so am I.
There's not a doubt in my heart that he's my boy.
He wants to build a playhouse almost as badly as he wants his next breath. We've been looking at plans online. And drawing "constructions." And brainstorming about all the possibilities - a rope ladder, a slide ("so you can sneak out the back if robbers come to the front door.") "And would there be a way to keep girls out, mom?" he asked me tonight, "you know, like for times that me and Simon want to be alone?"
We're trying to figure out how to make this dream come true. We think we may have an idea...
The last couple of days have been a little bit tedious and grey. I've been impatient, tired, discontented. The children have been stubborn and ornery. The weather's been dreary. And we've had a lot of external stuff imposed on us (meetings, church stuff, a big family dinner to host, meals to deliver, mutual to plan, helping in the classroom). Henry doesn't have school tomorrow and we're going to have a day of whatever we want - sleeping in, stories, baking, painting, coloring, playing, snuggling. I can't wait. I want to give the kids a happier and more present version of myself than they've had the last few days.
We're in the thick of tax season. It is so busy for Nate. Long, long hours. I worry about him, hoping he's not too pushed, too tired, too burdened. it's a heavy weight he carries, i know. but we're blessed with work. and busy is so much better than the alternative. so we count it a blessing and carry on, ever anticipating April 15th. oh blessed day! in the meantime, we're looking for all the bright sides. and they are many. working from home means we get to eat meals together. and that occasionally when we pass each other in the hall, Nate winks at me (or slaps my buns) and tells me I'm hot. i love him. he is good. and steady and strong. and kind. and handsome.
loves errands. She loves to get out of the house and wants to leave with anyone who's going. When we drive by familiar stores, she calls out, "Oh, look mom, there's costco. Do we need to get a few things?" "Oh! There's Safeway! There's Old Ravy" (as she calls it :) We've had occasion to be at 'Old Ravy' together a few times recently purchasing, (then exchanging, and exchanging again,) jeans for her brother, who is growing like a dandelion and does not like to accompany us on errands. It is so amusing to watch her pick things out, ask if we can buy them, tell me how cute a little skirt is or how much she loves that purple pair of plastic sandals. she is all girl - she loves babies and pink and shoes and purses and make up. this morning she brought out her baby Lola and another little bundle all wrapped up. "These are my two kids, two kids, two kids!!!" she was singing. I was a little surprised when I unwrapped the bundle and found one of Henry's large, spiky plastic dinosaurs. "Dat's Wendy," Lily informed me matter-of-factly. Mental note made. That makes Maggie, Sally, Lola, DeeDee ... and Wendy the dinosaur-kid. Lily is super perceptive of peoples' emotions, often asking me things like, "are you frustratin' mom?" or "does this make you happy, mom?" she really notices how people are feeling. she's extremely strong-willed and determined. we love this about her. but it's really difficult when her will isn't aligned with mine -- like potty training, for instance. i'm ready for it. she wants nothing to do with it. and no manner of skittles or starbursts or coaxing or entreaty can change her mind about it. hopefully she'll warm up to the idea sooner or later. Even if she's in diapers 'til she's four, we love her and think she's just right.
that's it. my eyelids are full of lead. still can't believe it's March...