Owen, More Cuteness

First things first ... the promised cookie photos:


So I thought that Allen couldn't get much cuter than his comment about eating cookies "all all day," but it turns out that he can -- and he did.

This afternoon Allen talked to Nana and Papa for a long time, and cried the first time they tried to get off the phone. So they continued to talk to him about how they were going to take him to the park to swing on the swings and ride the see-saw, and play in the house that's there. Finally, they got off the phone, and he called Mom-mom's house to talk to Owen (more on that shortly). A short while later, Allen just started walking around the house crying. We asked him what was wrong, and he said "Park! Park!" The he said, "Nana and Papa!" I asked him if he wanted to call them, and he shook his head, and said, "No, see Nana and Papa!" I guess he thought they were coming right away to take him to the park, and he was very upset that they had not arrived yet. Poor little guy :(

Back to talking with Owen. Allen gets an absolute kick out of talking to Owen (and if you recall from an earlier post, it is hilarious because he communicates primarily in screams and grunts). So today, I decided to videotape it for your enjoyment. Because there is little that brings more joy than hearing a child laugh.

Allen has been broadening his horizons lately, as far as toys go, so instead of just cars to clean up each night, we have cars, blocks, books, markers, etc. Usually he's pretty good about cleaning up before bed, but last night we had a little issue with it, so he wasn't allowed to read Chicka Chicka Boom Boom before bed. It was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do -- he was so upset, that he almost became inconsolable -- but with the difficulties we've been having lately, we decided to stand our ground.

Well, tonight, I felt so good about our decision. Because when it was time to clean up his toys, he hopped right off my lap and started helping. Not one complaint out of his mouth. Not only that, but he went right up the stairs, and asked to have a bath! Finally, we saw some positive results out of all this disciplining we're doing.

So we read our stories, and were saying our goodnights, when Allen decided he needed to add six more stuffed animals to his brood (they usually sit in a little shelf in his room). So we tossed them into the crib to join the others. We laid him in bed and started to cover him with his blankets, when he decided that each stuffed animal needed a kiss. He had to sit up, grab the animal, lay down, kiss it, and then repeat ... for each of the dozen or so animals in the bed! He even had to kiss "extra blanket" (the extra blanket we put on him when it got really cold here).

We finally got through it all, and turned off the lights. As we closed the door, Brian said, "And you thought you were done blogging today ...." It's true -- the kid gives me so much fodder for this blog that I'm never struck with writer's block.

Goodnight to you all!

xoxo,

Out of Reach

Yesterday, at the shop, I was reaching for a box on a shelf that was a little too high. No matter how far on my tip-toes I went, no matter how far I stretched my fingers, I just managed to push the box away, not to get it any closer. Frustrated, I gave up (rather than grab the ladder), and then didn't give much thought to it.

But last night, as I lay in bed thinking about something I rarely let myself think about during the day, it came to mind again. I thought about "Cookie" ... the younger sibling for Allen, the second pregnancy for me, our baby ... that almost was, but we couldn't reach. Funny, how something so simple, so silly even, could be associated with something so meaningful in my life, but it seemed like an awfully obvious metaphor.

Most of the time, these days, my life is full and complete. Walking in the door to see Allen's face light up, hear him say, "Hi Mommy!" and run to hug me; then to have him make sure I say "Hi Daddy too," watching as I lean over Brian's chair to give him a hug and a kiss ... I think that my life couldn't be much better. And in those moments of anxiety over Brian's work situation, our insurance situation, and our overall financial uncertainty, I almost relieved that it's just the three of us right now.

Then there are those nights when I can't fall asleep, and I think of what almost was -- an exciting pregnancy, a younger sibling, a new baby to love -- that was just out of reach. It makes me sad to think of all those things that couldn't be fulfilled. It makes me sad to have lost that little one. To have her with us one moment, and then gone the next.

But then I realize that "Cookie" will always be with me, in my heart. The joy that almost was, and the pain of losing her. The ways that she has changed my life. And that's something I can reach for any time I want.