Life has been a wild ride in the past few weeks, and there have been so many things that I would have loved to turn into little bloggy anecdotes. But when it rains, it pours, and one’s internet activity must greatly decrease. But I’ve decided to take a little time for my happy little blog, whilst savoring a happy little bowl of chocolate pudding. And then I’ll get to work.
Spring has come to Chicago today. Charlie and I took a walk late this morning — I almost couldn’t keep up with him as his little legs hustled toward the park. The weather couldn’t have been better. And I realized that on days like today, I tend to forget that every other day isn’t just as beautiful.
Charlie has been an absolute blast this week. We’ve had a few typical toddler meltdown moments, like in the grocery store today, but overall, he is easygoing, talkative, fun, funny, and just a joy to be around. A few weeks ago, I was lying awake in bed, getting teary as I thought about growing our family. Yes, we’re eager and excited to welcome our daughter into our home, and I love that Charlie will have a playmate. I think he’ll be a wonderful big brother. But I also think I’m experiencing a healthy amount of grieving the loss of a former life. For almost 2 1/2 years, life has been just the three of us. We know Charlie, and we’ve grown accustomed to the day-in, day-out activities and routine that work for us. That night in bed, I suddenly felt overwhelmed with sadness at the thought of losing that. I felt sad for Charlie and this big shift in his familial role. And a little fearful of entering yet another “unknown” in life. This is probably stuff I’ll be processing for the next several months. Or years.
But I wasn’t planning on writing anything quite so heavy or personal today.
Back to Charlie’s talkativeness. Oh my goodness, this kid can talk. I remember clearly when I just longed for him to start talking. And I knew there would come a day when I just wanted him to shut up. Most of the time, I am so grateful that he can communicate his wants and needs. It really does make life easier. And plus, his little voice is just so darling. But last night in the car, driving to and from church, I forgot how darling it can be. He talked on and on and on and on. Constant commentary on things he saw or things he remembered.
Mommy? Up-tow! (helicopter)
Mommy? Two birw! (two birds)
Mommy? Nuh aw-pane! (another airplane)
Mommy? Ta-tee weh cah, Daddy cah (Charlie’s red car in Daddy’s car)
And on the way home, he was determined to tell us something. “Peen caw! Peen caw!”
“Pink car?” “No. Peen caw!”
“Police car?” “No. Peen caw!”
“Pink cow?” “No. Peen caw!”
We spent about ten minutes trying to decipher it, but finally we all just gave up. We still haven’t figured out what he was talking about. Toddlerspeak is a lot like one giant game of Mad Gab, and this struck me as especially funny last night during this “Peen caw” exchange. The poor kid kept enunciating his words for us, trying desperately to get us to understand. And just like with Mad Gab, sometimes all I can hear, no matter how many times the other players repeat the phrase, is babble! And it makes me laugh!
Well my bowl of chocolate pudding is long empty, and there’s a thick manuscript waiting patiently for me at the table. I must get to work.