“Let’s go wake up Big Sister,” I say to the Boy as he fusses this morning.
Soon, everyone is smiling.
the boy
Papa’s Heaven
Some Father's Day gifts are quite simple.
Nap
“Can you hold the boy?”
Sure — for as long as necessary.
Wonder that Is Not
Infants are deceiving: they sometimes look as if they’re entranced with something, gazing into the distance and lost in thought.
The pediatrician assures us that the Boy can’t even really focus at this point. His muscles have little minds of their own, and things blur and crystallize without his conscious thought or control.
Sometimes its better to read into it what we will, though.
Fascination
It’s a good sign: the Girl is utterly fascinated with the Boy. “I want to hold him!” is a common refrain. “That’s so cute!” is a frequent chorus.
The question is, how long will it last?
Swimming and Resting
We’ve come a long way in the last couple of years. The Girl swims; the Boy is; and I’m still expanding.
Early Summer
We have a new child in the house, and I'm barely updating. I could make excuses.
We're too busy taking walks:
Backyard twirling sessions have taken up all of our time:
Testing new snorkeling equipment has eaten into our time:
We've been busy jumping into the water:
We've been learning to drive a stick:
Lots of excuses; none of them convincing.
Waking
The Boy can be amusing as he wakes.
Double Duty
There’s high maintenance and low maintenance. The Girl has always been the former. From birth, with her digestion problems and sleeping difficulties, she drew a constant flow of energy from anyone caring for her. Being an only child for so long only prolonged this.
Enter: the Boy. Decidedly low maintenance.
Recital 2012
The Girl feels she’s been playing second fiddle for the last two weeks. She never says it, but it’s clear. Add to it the frustration she must feel to hear “No, not now” to her constant requests to hold the Boy and it’s fairly clear that we needed a night like tonight.
Recital night — the evening L has been talking about constantly for a week or more now. “Wednesday is my rehearsal,” she began saying last week, “and Thursday is my recital.” She told friends; she told teachers; she told strangers in the checkout line.
“We’ve got to make her feel truly special,” K said, and so we bought two bouquets and a box of her favorite chocolates — just what every ballerina needs.
And she got the added bonus of staying up well past her bedtime, a fact which impressed and pleased her enough that she repeated it several times on the way back to the car. Of course the evening photo session made everything a touch later, too.
