I remember the days when life would lazily knock at the door and wait patiently for you to answer. More recently, life doesn't even bother to ring the bell a hundred times over - it bursts in with Eddie Haskell expectance and assumes it's staying for dinner. For the most part I'm okay with that (not that I've got much of a say in the matter). It's just that those unexpected visits can as easily symbolize unfettered disaster as as they can welcome surprise. Fortunately, we've had a few instances of the latter recently - which have been so wonderful, in fact, that I've woken up more than once in the last couple of weeks certain that it had all been a dream. As of late it would seem that all my pandering about being Mom, Esq. has come to fruition - I've been recognized at work in a way that I never have before and, in many ways, was begin to suspect I never would. It's a life changing move up in the world for me - which of course promises all kinds of change (hooray! I deal with change with such grace and poise!). It's an amazing feeling - to be recognized. Particularly when there are days I hardly recognize myself anymore - who IS that tired looking girl with the wrinkles, dark under-eye circles and unidentified goo on her shirt? Particularly when I often picture myself as the blind statue of justice...perilously trying to balance work and life and fitness and appearance and marriage and motherhood and sanity. Except my blindfold would be a Winnie the Pooh wash cloth and I'd be dressed in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshit. Hawt. But there you have it - life burst in and all is changed.
That's the thing about life - it pops in now and then but is always marching along. C continues to grow and grow and flex those needling muscles of sweet independence (more commonly recognized as ear shattering tantrums). The other day he spiralled into a doozy as I left daycare. I'm fairly certain that (apart from being mercilessly judged by C's daycare provider) as I slowly backed out the door and towards my car that I morphed into Wile E. Coyote, realized that I was in fact standing two feet over the cliff side on nothing but air, held up a YIPES! sign and spontaneously fell to my splatted, dust-poofed doom below. Life goes on.
And as life goes on, C continues to surprise us. Funny though, amid the myriad of new words that have materialized in C's voculary, I have a few new favorites:
Guy and Guy: Guy is allocated to the little construction worker that sits in his favorite Tonka truck. Life comes to a screetching hault in the event that Guy is missing (which can be quite troublesome given that he's only about an inch short with an inexplicably over sized torso to his nearly non-existent legs - when he goes missing he could be anywhere. Last time I found him was wedged way under the crib towards the wall. Forget needle in a haystack. The saying "like finding Guy in our house" is far, far more accurate. Guy (pronounced Gee) is C's stuffed gorilla. Guy LaFleur. For some reason he's French Canadian. Nighttime revolves around the presence of Guy and Guy.
Choo-Choo: Our love affair for Thomas the train has commenced. My child, who has never once shown an interest in his clothes, now adamently refuses to part from his beloved Thomas jammies each morning and insists on them each night. This struggle sounds like the arrival of the saddest train in the world:
"No, C, we need to take off our Thomas jammies and put on our daytime clothes if we're going to go outside."
"Choooooo-Chooooooo...MO CHOOOOO-CHOOOOOO!"
Boo: Translation: Book. Our son is a reading machine...which I highly encourage. Small exception: the seventy seventh round of Brown Bear Brown Bear What Do You See? does start to become somewhat tedious. We tried to rectify the situation by introducing the other books in the Bear series. This only resulted in the insistance on all four books before bed followed by a lively rendition of MO BOOOOOOO!! (more books).
Pee-pee: Used as both a noun and a verb - a testament to efficiency! Most recently used as the subject and sole lyrics to a song while walking around the house: "Pee pee! Pee pee pee pee pee pee! Peeeeeeee peeeeee...."
Bobby: This one is perhaps my favorite. Daycare has introduced a new face into the little crowd: a four month old baby. C has taken to his new friend with great care and interest and now affectionately calls this little one (and all infants) Bobby (translation: Baby). I happened to meet the new baby this morning and was overcome by his adorable chubby cheekedness. I felt that twinge of new mommyhood - and I couldn't deny it. Actually, I've been feeling it more and more in the last several months - and, of course, just to egg on the twinge everyone in the city seems to be pregnant. Maternal amnesia is a wonderful and very necessary thing. G keeps asking C if he wants to be a big brother ("Yeah, yeah, yeah!") and if he'd like a little brother or sister ("Yeah! Bobby!"). It's a funny thing, but I suspect that life may just burst on in one of these days and grant that wish.
Life's here. And it's hungry for seconds.
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