I’ve been blogging for two years. I wrote a big entry earlier, which I lost when the computer shut itself down without permission. In it I wrote that John brought me flowers today, and said that I should have taken a picture to post. So, while the computer (hopefully) got its shit together, I took some photos.
Here’s the first post I ever wrote, (edited a bit awhile back to protect me from any unpleasantness):
I have a new reason to hate Barney. Nathan, who is three and a half, has a fantastic imagination. He makes up his own words, will usually only answer to ‘Carmen’ or ‘Super Big Kid,’ and is all day long saying, “Mom, pretend that. . . ” The other day he was crying and I asked why. He said it’s because he doesn’t have an imagination. I finally figured out that he thinks that since he can’t travel into space like the kids on the Barney video he picked out last week his imagination is not functioning properly. We don’t have cable in our house, maybe it’s time to chuck the videos, too.
Poopy stoop is his word. He learned to say ‘stupid’ awhile back and would walk around the house when he was mad muttering ‘stupid, stupid, stupid,’ like some sort of anger-focusing mantra. Then he added ‘poopy.’ ‘Poopy stupid,’ became the curse of choice. We finally got through to him that he needed to quit using stupid all the time, so he quickly learned to say ‘poopy stoop.’ Of course, that is the favorite adult curse at our house now.
A few nights ago, Nathan and his brother, Alexander (five and a half) had their first ever game of tag with the neighborhood kids. They’ve had other, more obvious, milestones of leaving their babyhood behind; things like preschool and underwear and dental appointments. So why did this game of tag hit me right in the gut and make me feel like it’s all going by too fast? Even their sister, Sophie, at thirteen months, was trying to play. She’d walk a little in their direction and then get distracted by tree leaves or grass blades.
Today Lex made the grocery list, “Sponge, notebook, 6 oz chocolate.” We walked to the market and he read from his list, carried the basket and filled it up in order. When we got home he wrote me probably fifteen love notes with his new pink mini notebook. I told him he was going to use up all his paper and he said he loved me more than his new notebook. He tried tofu and said it was delicious. This is a huge step for the boy who eats maybe six different things. He sends email to his preschool teacher who moved to Arizona. He writes poems. I’ll have to post some when I have them.
Written to Low, ‘Things We Lost In the Fire’
posted by Jenijen | 12:04 AM comments(0)
I’m not going to press my luck.
I think the hard drive is failing, if I’m not around for awhile that would be the reason. Hope I’m wrong.