Remember This Always

I will never tire of the way Baby J. will periodically stop nursing and look up at me intently, as if memorizing my face.  There is a searching quality to his gaze, like he's trying to figure me out.  (Good luck, kid!)  It is priceless and sweet and makes me tear up with happiness.  There is absolutely nothing like this kid.  I am so in love with him.

I will also never tire of this face (my good friend and rabid Philadelphia sports fan Jon sent him this bib:)

Or this one:

He is my heart.

Apparently he is also always in his jumper.  I do let him out occasionally. 

Dear Baby

You're six months old and one day today.

You're doing this cute thing with your tongue now - sticking it out and blowing air, making a funny little sound.  I love it.

Your feet touch the ground now when you're in your jumper.  We used a thick dictionary under your feet at first, but now you don't need it.

You were diagnosed with an ear infection today, your first.  The doctor said it's early, thank goodness.  Maybe that's why you haven't wanted Dada to rock you to sleep the past few days like you normally would.

You've started playing with your diaper during diaper changes now.  You undid one side this afternoon.  So helpful!

You got quite a few new toys for Christmas, but you're still growing into them.  I can tell it frustrates you somewhat that you can't move the car like you'd like to.  Once you can sit up better on your own you will enjoy them so much more! 

You weighed 16.9 pounds at the doctor today.

You love bath time.  You love the bath time song I made up ("We're gonna take a bath, take a bath bath bath.  We're gonna take a bath bath bath."  It's cute.  Trust me.)  Bath time is still in your blue tub that I sit in the kitchen sink.  It will be bittersweet when we move to the actual bathtub!  (And OMG I'm going to have to clean it before then!)

You are the love of my life.  Along with your Dada, of course.  I never knew my heart could hold so much.

love, Mama

Our Buddy Butterbean

Today we said goodbye to a dear member of our family. Our cat Gus, better known as Butterbean or Bean, left us today. I had to take him to the vet to get put to sleep. I put on my big girl britches and went with my aunt to the vet, and it's amazing how fast the process went. He had kidney disease which had progressed of late into kidney failure. We knew it was only a matter of time. I just didn't know how fast he'd go downhill - in two days he went from slow but okay to not eating or drinking, bony and pitiful. The vet told us we made the right call at the right time, not too soon and not too late to make him suffer. I am so grateful he told us that. I can hang onto that at least, knowing Gus isn't suffering and didn't suffer at the end. His daddy told him goodbye this morning, since he had to work a double shift and couldn't get out of it at short notice. It was wrenching watching Eric cry - he doesn't cry often and I know he loved Gus very, very much. They were special buddies.

Gus loved to be scratched on his head and the side of his face. He'd get up on the table and Eric would sit there and scratch and scratch, and Gus would give him a friendly headbutt, and then after a few minutes, he'd flop onto the table in happiness. All he wanted (besides cheese or lunch meat whenever we had either of those!) was to be loved on. Yet he was never what you'd call a "lap cat." He was fairly independent.

He came to me as a stray while I was house sitting for a few months at a place in Lindbergh Forest on South Knoxville. This was in 2000. I took him with me when I left and have loved him ever since. It's hard to believe he's gone. That we now have only one cat. I threw away his food bowl when I got home. The house seems strangely empty now, even with another cat and a five week old baby.

I'm going to plant a rosebush out there in the backyard where he's resting. I will tell James about the prince of a cat named Gus that shared his home with him for 5 weeks and 4 days. He was a very, very good cat. We love you, buddy.

EAT popcorn, PRAY the movie's good, end up crying all day because you LOVED it.

I saw "Eat, Pray, Love" yesterday. It met all of my lofty expectations. I adored the book, and was so thrilled that Julia Roberts was involved. She really threw herself into this movie, with joy and gusto. She really "got" it. I left the theater teary-eyed and raw, in a dewy haze of love for the world. I was spiritually moved and wanted pasta - STAT.

The character of Ketut, the sweetest old toothless medicine man you'll ever see on screen, says to Liz (Julia Roberts) near the end of the film, "Sometimes you need to lose your balance in love to find your balance in life." Something like that. It hits Liz hard and she runs to the lovely, sweet man she nearly pushed away out of fear. It struck me similarly, like a gong going off in my brain - DING! - TRUTH! Sometimes I feel like parts of myself are so intertwined with my husband that I don't know where he ends and I begin. It's not terribly liberated to admit something like that. But that's precisely what brings my joy and balance in life. What I lose of myself, I gain back from his wellspring, and together we are both whole. Love is both changeable and constant, chaotic yet serene. I give of myself and open myself to vulnerability, and in return I am strengthened and supported.

I don't see many movies at the theater - too expensive. The ones I do see are special treats. They are an escape and a visceral experience. I like the anticipation, the immersion, the darkness. I came away from this one with a silly smile on my face, like I knew a secret. It reminded me that really, I do know what life's all about - love. I'm given to grand statements of hyperbole, but as I told Eric yesterday, everything else is pretty much bullshit.

secret genius

I love it when my husband plays his guitar. He picks it up at random and just starts playing these gorgeous original songs. If poems poured from my pen like songs flow from his fingertips, I'd be freakin' Poet Laureate by now. I am so proud of him. I don't think he really knows just how much.

When he puts his guitar down after a session, I always make sure to tell him, "I love to hear you play." He doesn't usually acknowledge what I say with more than a nod, and I don't care. I just want him to know. I'll be standing at the sink washing pots and pans, or sitting in bed reading, and he starts playing, and it's the best damn thing since strong, hot coffee on a cold morning. He's mine! Domestic bliss!

How many of us are married to amazing, creative, artistic people - and no one knows it but us? All the secret genius out there must be legion.