In which I reveal myself as the melodramatic person that I really am

Regarding my last post, in my defense, I’d like to say that it was entirely true.  I really could see in Gus’s eyes that something was different and he knew it.  And frankly, he seemed to behave differently for a couple of days.

But the good news is that he has the lovely short memory of a 6 month old, and he’s forgotten all about it.  I’ve made up for it as best as I could with lots of love and snuggles, and he’s back to his old self.  I’m sure having tons of family in town all of last week for his baptism – family who doted all over him, of course – didn’t hurt matters.

In which I reveal myself as the terrible person (and hypocrite) that I really am

As you may recall, I’ve complained before about how Gus’s naps and Maggie’s preschool always seem to conflict.  I believe I’ve also mentioned the problem I have many mornings when I drive Nate to work, which is that Gus falls asleep in the car (inevitably within 2 miles of home) and then won’t go back to sleep.  Once he’s good and out, it doesn’t matter how long it’s for; if he wakes up, he thinks he’s had a nap.

Well, today, for once, I was going to get a break.  Due to a convergence of several different coincidences, Gus was going to get the perfect nap schedule in.  First, he woke up earlier than normal, at 7.  This meant he’d be ready for a nap between 9 and 9:30.  Still recovering from my stomach bug, I’m not yet up to driving Nate all the way into work, so instead, I just took him to the bus stop today.  Perfect.  He needed to be at the bus at 9, and the stop is close enough to home that Gus wouldn’t fall asleep in the car, so I knew he’d nap at home.  Hopefully, he’d sleep for a couple of hours, waking around 11, which would make him due for his next nap around 1.  Perfect again.  Maggie’s preschool starts at 12:45, and again, it’s so close to home that he wouldn’t fall asleep in the car.  Then we’d come home, he’d nap again until 3-ish and be up all on his own for us to get her at 3:45.  And I?  I would have 2 or so blissful hours entirely to myself; I can’t even remember the last time that happened.  And after we picked Maggie up, Gus would be due for a final, short nap around 5, which would mean he’d wake up about 6:30.  Again, perfect.  This is the time we need to leave for Maggie’s dance class.

A random observation

Ya know what I hate the most about blogging?  The pressure to come up with witty titles.  If you haven’t noticed, I mostly suck at it.  Every once in awhile, I come up with a good one.  I think the No one expects the Spanish Panic (Attack) one was pretty good, and Faith and begorrah was a nice little homage to my Irishness.  But for the most part, I come up with pretty boring stuff like On Books.

Be patient.  I’m trying to improve.  And if all else fails, I’ll enlist the services of my husband who, for better or for worse (usually for worse) is the King of the Bad Pun.  It is his gift, it is his curse.

On books

Thanks to my dear friend, Stef, who lent me the book A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore several months ago (and I’ve just now gotten around to reading), I’ve come to an important realization:

The best books tend to be the ones you can’t possibly describe.  If you can fit it into a neat little package, it’s probably lacking a lot in creativity and imagination.  It might still be a decent read, especially if the writing is good, but it’s not going to leave any deep imprint on your brain. 

I think of it sort of like good food.  Sure, I might get a really good burger at a chain joint, but am I going to think of it in again in a week?  Unlikely.  A month?  Probably not.  A year?  Almost certainly not.  But I can still almost taste in my mouth the fabulous lamb chops at a local Middle Eastern restaurant.  The way they almost melt in your mouth.  The hint of garlic.  The buttery rice it’s piled on, loaded with tiny, slivered almonds.   

And I gotta tell you, I’m not even halfway through A Dirty Job, but right now, I’m expecting to remember that melt-in-your-mouth literary flavor and tiny, slivered bibliophile almonds for a long time.

I know it’s trite

But my kids light up my life.  Truly.  Any given day with them must give me a zillion different joys.  Even today, when I’m running a 102 degree fever and battling a terrible stomach bug, they still find ways to delight me.  This list only scratches the surface:

* I woke up earlier than Gus this morning.  About a half an hour after I got up, I tried to sneak into the room for a second.  He was already up and hanging out quietly, but when he turned his head to smile at me in the half light, it was brilliant enough to light up the room.

* I was nursing Gus at nap time, getting ready to put him down.  Maggie knows we have to be quiet during this time.  All of a sudden, the kitchen timer that I had set 45 minutes ago and forgotten about began beeping.  And beeping.  It’s a constant beep.  In horror, I tried to shield Gus’s ears, so he wouldn’t be awakened.  And I looked up, to find Maggie looking at me with a big “oops!” face, covering her mouth with her hand, eyebrows raised.  Such a knowing look, at the same time paired with her silky Ariel jammies, a reallllly badly done ponytail created by Daddy that she insisted on leaving in, and a bright red bow thrown in for some color zip.  It was simply too comical.

* Gus woke up from his first nap just as I got another Urgent Call to the Bathroom.  With no prompting, Maggie ran back into the room to keep him company until I could come get him.  As I sat miserably on the toilet, I still couldn’t help but smile as I heard Maggie, mimicking my own interactions with Gus, saying in this exaggerated baby talk, “Hi, little man!  Aren’t you just so cute?  Yes, you are!  You’re such a Sweet Bo-oy!”  And when I was finally able to get to the bedroom myself, I found her still prattling onto him as he stared up at her in complete awe and worship.  They absolutely adore each other.

* Maggie wanted me to open the curtains, but I said no because the sun comes in really badly and makes it VERY hot in here.  A couple minutes later, she walks over (sad ponytail now gone, but Ariel jammies and bright red bow still in place) and says, “Mommy, I’d like to be warmer.”  And I said, “Well, you could put on some warmer clothes.”  And she shot back with a very patronizing, “Oh no, no, no,” complete with hand waving.  “I believe I need some sunlight.”  How could I say no to that?

* Maggie asked me for something that I can’t even remember now, and I told her no.  So she gave me her favorite retort of lately, “Fine, then, I’m going to go to my room!”  And then she downright STORMED down the hallway, nose held high, arms swinging, hips swaying, feet pounding, while saying to her doll, “C’mon, Baby, let’s go to my room!”  I’m glad her back was turned so she couldn’t see my laughter.  She’s going to be a handful as a teenager!

* Maggie nursing her baby doll, using my Boppy.  She did this a lot when Gus was first born, but hasn’t done it in awhile.  It always warms my heart to see it. 

Uncle Jerry

I’m finding myself in a bit of a funk lately, and I’ve had a bit of writer’s block.  So today, I decided to do something I’ve thought about for ages.  In my current job as an online writing lab tutor, I get a lot of papers from students in basic composition classes.  They frequently get assignments that are biographical in nature, and I’ve often thought about how I would answer some of the questions posed to them, and how I would use the advice I give to them to write a compelling essay myself.

So today, I decided to being writing mini-essays about my life.  I’m starting with what I consider the most pivotal point in my life.  Hopefully, over the next days, weeks, or even months, there will be more.