Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Two Kinds Of Memorable
2014 has been sweet so far. I love sleeping with Owen. He had his dinosaurs between us and his Hulk and his Spiderman on the table beside him, watching over us all. He had his pillow and he had his name blanket too. He woke up one time and said, "I don't have any covers!" and so I covered him up and said, "Are you cozy?" and he said he was and he went back to sleep.
Boppy slept in the room next to Gibson in the Pack-n-Play and from what I hear, that boy slept through the night after his grandfather sang him into slumber. As long as he knew his grandfather was beside him, he was fine. I have never seen a child worship a grandparent the way he does. He'll barely let me take him off to change his diaper although he does accept my offers of food and he does still let me get his gugga. He is just in love. And not with me.
This morning has been fine. The boys ate one continual breakfast or, alternately, many, many snacks. Either way- same-same.
And now their mama has come and taken them home along with the bags of toys and pillows and dinosaurs and Hulks and Ogres and Dragons and blankets. I have the black-eyed peas simmering on the stove and Mr. Moon is out picking greens in the rain. I will wash them and wash them and chop them up and get them simmering too. The chickens have already feasted on the sweet potato fries that did not get eaten last night.
I am functioning. I have spoken to May and to Hank and of course to Lily and have left a message for Jessie. I am doing laundry. I may take a bath and read. I am drinking Valerian tea. My brain isn't worth shit. It never is when I'm in this fear-place.
Red cardinal against gray sky; last night my husband and I talked about our first New Year's Eve together. We were in New Orleans, it was freezing cold, we barely knew each other. We laughed some about it, we looked at our grandchildren, it seemed too much of a wonder to connect that time with now, those two people throwing themselves with complete reckless abandon into something they had no idea would lead to a New Year's supper with two grandboys thirty years later.
Or maybe we did, even then.
I suspect we did.
But we were too busy falling in love to be occupied with such thoughts.
That wild adventure. Now this.
Eat your beans and greens.