01.01.11
I'm trying to ignore how those numbers remind me of a binary code (not that I'm sure what that is, exactly, other than it has to do with computer programming), and instead concentrate on shiny, fresh starts and new beginnings. I kept thinking I'd get a few minutes of time to reflect on the past year and to prepare some resolutions for the year ahead. Or, if not full-fledged resolutions, at least time to think of a word for the year--that seems to be the trendy thing to do these days. But, as I close out 01.01.11, I have no word, no resolutions, and no conclusions from the past year. Wiped out from growing two littles into functioning people, I seem to have no time and even less inclination for my own self-improvement these days. (As my flabby tummy and disorganized house attest.)
As I type, however, I'm also gazing into a room containing a little, squealing, insomniac baby who is playing clapping games with her daddy and successfully avoiding bed time. She's not crawling yet, and shows no interest in cruising, but she did sprout a tooth. Occasionally, we (lovingly) refer to her as "Swivelbutt" because she moves in an ever-widening circle anchored by her Pampers. In the past few weeks, she's really become a little person, interested in table foods and trying to carry on conversations and pull the kitty's tail. She seems to be a slow bloomer, which I am trying not to worry about.
There will be time enough for cleaning out closets and taking Pilates. I resolve not to miss the squeals or the chance to nuzzle soft cheeks or kiss the sweet spot right under her ear. As for the three year old--she wants very little to do with me, especially when Greg (or, 'Godfodder,' as my Nutcracker-obsessed girl has been calling him for the past month) is around, but I resolve to try to enjoy her little-girlhood, and to not sell her to the circus. And to sneak kisses as much as I can (even though she already wipes them off), and to read lots of books to her, and to let her give credit to the whole wide world for teaching her things (even though it was mostly me and a little bit of Dora.) And that will have to do.
hey, what happened to Buzzy's picture? And boy, do I hear ya sister, about the whole letting everything slide 'cause you just can't seem to stay on top of things with multiple, sassy, small personalities running around the house (I was going to hyphenate all of that but thank God I didn't!). Swivelbutt will get there, Buzzy will stop wiping off kisses (just wait till the first day of kindergarten) and one of these days, Greg WILL be home more to enjoy them.
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