the quiet room yields to the music's tempo.
he hears it begin.
he turns his head to me; a broad smile creeps upon his cheeks.
realization of the moment.
determination that this time, he will get me all to himself
i wait in my chair.
he moves to me in slow motion. stumbling over his intentions, yet his advance is so calculated.
he reaches my side. there is a fire in his eyes, inescapable.
his firm, warm hand lifts mine strongly from its gentle placing upon my lap.
he adjusts his hold to a satisfying clutch.
basking in the bliss of the moment, the trust of my hand in his, he closes his eyes, throws his head back against his shoulders with a grin of victory, and tips his weight on his hips to sway unabashedly to the pulse.
my son.
my new favourite dance partner.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
school? what's school?
Alright, my lovelies, I recognize the fact that most of you have been awaiting an update on Abi's first days at school for well over a week now. I had all intentions of humoring you last week, but one thing led to another, and before I knew it, it was this week already. Oh no- not just ANY week... THIS week.
When I was in high school, I ran lighting for a couple of our drama club stage productions. The week prior to the show was dubbed "Hell Week", due to the long hours and repetitive rehearsals we put in. I have found a new Hell Week in my life, and realized that in high school, I had it goooooooooooooooooood.
Hubby left for some business travel on Monday morning- after a night we barely slept. Why did we not sleep? The baby boy started wheezing and tossing and turning in bed. In the morning, the wheezing was frighteningly loud, and I ended up spending many hours over Monday and Tuesday at the doctor's office and at the ER essentially trying to settle respiratory distress brought on by an upper respiratory infection. Braeden is so jammed with steroids, he'd get kicked out of the Olympics. Nebulizer treatments for the little guy will continue until Monday, and least.
Wednesday evening I had to stretch my mommy role when a pair of unsupervised neighbor children (maybe 8 and 11) decided to plant a few wooden stakes in their high alpine desert yard, spray them with aerosol, and light them on fire a mere inches from grass and feet from my property line.
Thursday morning I slipped from a stair in my foyer while taking out the garbage (stupid boy job), pulling muscles that weren't awake yet, and twisting my ankle.
This morning, Friday, before school, I heard a shriek from the living room where the girl had run face first into the metal leg of a dining chair. She laid on the floor clutching her head between her eyes. As she let go, I saw her forehead and the bridge of her nose begin to swell. She wanted to go to school, so we went and fortunately she did fine... and hopefully she avoided the kid who ended up vomiting in her classroom.
Please recall Satan incarnate, the sunspider. Moments ago, I discovered- yes, first hand- that they like to PLAY DEAD!!! As I went to do away with what I thought was a carcass in my family room, I found myself on the receiving end of a full fledged sunspider attack! I haven't cussed so bad in days (and the week has certainly provided ample opportunity)!
... and right now I have a busting headache, worsened by the fact that a neighbor's dog has been barking for the last three hours.
So if I do get to telling some of Abi's early school days stories, you'll likely have one of my neighbors to thank- for talking me down from jumping off of my roof ledge.
When I was in high school, I ran lighting for a couple of our drama club stage productions. The week prior to the show was dubbed "Hell Week", due to the long hours and repetitive rehearsals we put in. I have found a new Hell Week in my life, and realized that in high school, I had it goooooooooooooooooood.
Hubby left for some business travel on Monday morning- after a night we barely slept. Why did we not sleep? The baby boy started wheezing and tossing and turning in bed. In the morning, the wheezing was frighteningly loud, and I ended up spending many hours over Monday and Tuesday at the doctor's office and at the ER essentially trying to settle respiratory distress brought on by an upper respiratory infection. Braeden is so jammed with steroids, he'd get kicked out of the Olympics. Nebulizer treatments for the little guy will continue until Monday, and least.
Wednesday evening I had to stretch my mommy role when a pair of unsupervised neighbor children (maybe 8 and 11) decided to plant a few wooden stakes in their high alpine desert yard, spray them with aerosol, and light them on fire a mere inches from grass and feet from my property line.
Thursday morning I slipped from a stair in my foyer while taking out the garbage (stupid boy job), pulling muscles that weren't awake yet, and twisting my ankle.
This morning, Friday, before school, I heard a shriek from the living room where the girl had run face first into the metal leg of a dining chair. She laid on the floor clutching her head between her eyes. As she let go, I saw her forehead and the bridge of her nose begin to swell. She wanted to go to school, so we went and fortunately she did fine... and hopefully she avoided the kid who ended up vomiting in her classroom.
Please recall Satan incarnate, the sunspider. Moments ago, I discovered- yes, first hand- that they like to PLAY DEAD!!! As I went to do away with what I thought was a carcass in my family room, I found myself on the receiving end of a full fledged sunspider attack! I haven't cussed so bad in days (and the week has certainly provided ample opportunity)!
... and right now I have a busting headache, worsened by the fact that a neighbor's dog has been barking for the last three hours.
So if I do get to telling some of Abi's early school days stories, you'll likely have one of my neighbors to thank- for talking me down from jumping off of my roof ledge.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Christmas in August
The girl was ecstatic, tucked in her bed,
While visions of kinder school danced in her head.
Tomorrow is Abigail's first day of school, and she is more excited than she would be on Christmas Eve. At 7:15, 15 minutes prior to her normal bedtime, I started getting her ready for bed, anticipating that excitement would keep her up a little late.
We talked about her name tag that was in her new backpack. We talked about what shirt she'd like to wear with her new jeans tomorrow. She even tried the clothes on to make sure she was happy with how she would look. We talked about what would happen in the morning before we walked down to the school. We talked about how she would go to school Monday through Wednesday of this week, have Thursday off, then go in on Friday for testing.
We read some Ramona. We turned off the light.
I scratched her back, and told her goodnight.
Shortly after 8, she was downstairs, admitting she was too excited and couldn't sleep. Her daddy took her back upstairs, read her another story, and said goodnight. At 8:40, she was back down again.... peeking from the kitchen this time, but i heard the floorboards creak as she had lifted herself from the bed, and saw her hair wisp quickly around the corner, as i stared for her. This time, she was crying that she couldn't sleep because she was thinking about the next time she'd need a shot. Good grief. I let her lay with me on the couch until she fell asleep at 9, then her daddy carried her up into bed.
First day of school. It is an exciting thing. I can't much blame her, and I wonder how much sleep I myself will get tonight.
... and though I have utmost confidence, I am giving myself a bit of latitude. Misting up is completely acceptable on baby girl's first day. Overflowing with tears however, is completely off limits for this self respecting kinder-mommy. I think I can pull this off. Let's see that reader confidence... who's with me!?
While visions of kinder school danced in her head.
Tomorrow is Abigail's first day of school, and she is more excited than she would be on Christmas Eve. At 7:15, 15 minutes prior to her normal bedtime, I started getting her ready for bed, anticipating that excitement would keep her up a little late.
We talked about her name tag that was in her new backpack. We talked about what shirt she'd like to wear with her new jeans tomorrow. She even tried the clothes on to make sure she was happy with how she would look. We talked about what would happen in the morning before we walked down to the school. We talked about how she would go to school Monday through Wednesday of this week, have Thursday off, then go in on Friday for testing.
We read some Ramona. We turned off the light.
I scratched her back, and told her goodnight.
Shortly after 8, she was downstairs, admitting she was too excited and couldn't sleep. Her daddy took her back upstairs, read her another story, and said goodnight. At 8:40, she was back down again.... peeking from the kitchen this time, but i heard the floorboards creak as she had lifted herself from the bed, and saw her hair wisp quickly around the corner, as i stared for her. This time, she was crying that she couldn't sleep because she was thinking about the next time she'd need a shot. Good grief. I let her lay with me on the couch until she fell asleep at 9, then her daddy carried her up into bed.
First day of school. It is an exciting thing. I can't much blame her, and I wonder how much sleep I myself will get tonight.
... and though I have utmost confidence, I am giving myself a bit of latitude. Misting up is completely acceptable on baby girl's first day. Overflowing with tears however, is completely off limits for this self respecting kinder-mommy. I think I can pull this off. Let's see that reader confidence... who's with me!?
Monday, August 10, 2009
bald eagles do not wear dancing shoes!
acknowledging my love for bald eagles, the five year old informed me that she would draw for me, a picture of a bald eagle. she set to it today. she had me draw a branch, then pursued her work.
i thought it was marvelous!
i told her so. she told me she didn't like it, and started on bald eagle #2. i went about my distracted tasks until she said, "look, mommy! i'll put her in RED DANCING SHOES!"
"bald eagles do not wear dancing shoes!"
i paused to note the ridiculous things we grown ups are caught saying to our children.
"well, i'm drawing this one, and it can be however i want!" she retorted. yeah. guess i've planted that seed.
the revised bald eagle isn't quite so bald with the hair buns and tiara:
if you're wondering what that round black item is next to the revised eagle... i've come to find out that it's a disco ball. the eagle is dancing to ballet music in red dancing shoes under a disco ball.
"how do you like it?" she asked.
"it's lovely."
don't get me wrong. i love the creativity, but i'm kind of looking forward to raising a boy next.
i thought it was marvelous!
i told her so. she told me she didn't like it, and started on bald eagle #2. i went about my distracted tasks until she said, "look, mommy! i'll put her in RED DANCING SHOES!"
"bald eagles do not wear dancing shoes!"
i paused to note the ridiculous things we grown ups are caught saying to our children.
"well, i'm drawing this one, and it can be however i want!" she retorted. yeah. guess i've planted that seed.
the revised bald eagle isn't quite so bald with the hair buns and tiara:
if you're wondering what that round black item is next to the revised eagle... i've come to find out that it's a disco ball. the eagle is dancing to ballet music in red dancing shoes under a disco ball.
"how do you like it?" she asked.
"it's lovely."
don't get me wrong. i love the creativity, but i'm kind of looking forward to raising a boy next.
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