And when I say December, of course I mean January, because it's the first day of 2014 today and saying that it is December would be dishonest. But, I made a goal to catch up before the end of the year (a goal I've decided I should never, ever make until at least 2020 when maybe things calm down a little bit), and you'd better believe I'm going to do it - or at least make it appear that I did so for today (I could use a self-pat on the back).
I'm so sad that I haven't been blogging - mostly sad that I've missed recording so many of the snippets that turn into such treasures when you look back at them a few months or years later. Now, I have a three year old who won't stop talking about the big boy bed!! that is coming on a truck to our house, and a fifteen month old baby toddler that says outside and applesauce on command. I'd say that they've become this old suddenly, except that the passage of time of course brings thousands of precious little memory bytes with it, and saying that it has all zoomed by would be dismissive of those experiences - some incredible and some hopefully-forgettable.
West continues his campaign for Best Baby Ever. He's woken up once in the middle of the night in probably, oh, the past year (a fever of over 102ยบ makes for a sad little boy). He's mellow, flexible, eats well, and is tolerant of his older brother who is often a bit of a tyrant. He's happy! He never, ever cries when I put him down for a nap - even if I'm a few hours late (!!) - and plays happily until I get him when he's finished.
Basically, he's the polar opposite of Quinn as a baby and toddler.
Quinn has a passion for life that is sometimes contagious and often exhausting (said with love). This morning I heard him talking to his Bear (a new soft friend) saying, Oh my goodness! A big boy bed! It's coming! New expressions come out of his mouth every day and he has done so well with preschool this year. He loves playing with his friends (even if they are children he has never met before), and is totally nonstop from the moment he gets out of bed. He is unbelievably picky, and I've just accepted this (making sure to stock up on the yogurt at Trader Joe's that comes in the yellow container - he absolutely won't eat another kind). His animals sleep in their exact spots each night, and the sleeve of his pillowcase faces a certain direction. I fear he takes after his mother.
He got his hand stuck in an elevator door yesterday. It was a horrific experience really, one that involved screaming for help, a crowd of people gathering, and fear that when - if - I got my child's hand out of the door, it wouldn't have fingers attached. Mike started crying immediately, and my own tears came flooding out as soon as he was free (quickly, really) and screaming and crying on my lap. He's fine (just swollen and bruised), and we're grateful, but those little tiny experiences make me wonder how my heart can handle any more of this growing up business and exposure to the world (because while it's a good one, it's also scary). Sweet Quinn kept asking all afternoon for us to kiss it better, and my heart was breaking as I realized that while mostly effective in ouchie situations, it just wasn't going to work this time. A metaphor for the rest of life was an easy place to wander in my mind.
The days are long and the years are short - so they say. I'm continually exhausted but also fully saturated with love for my family. They are such miracles.
(Really, I'm not even sure what happened in October and November. We showed our house a bazillion times which meant that I spent hours and hours and hours cleaning. We went to the zoo with friends, had visitors from New York - Kylie and Dave [Kylie took family photos and Q was 100% uncooperative] - and generally just tried to keep our heads above water.)
Photos, because no matter how hard I try, I can't stop.
