So, these have been few and far between. I thought it might happen this way. The time slips and slides, weeks and weeks and months and months, and now you are both checking in 2.58 years of age and almost 30 pounds.
Why is it so important, do you think? The tracking of this time. Why try to be so vigilant about the changes, the advance and, yes, the regression? All children do these things, they learn to talk and walk and move and create and destroy. Why do it?
For me, it is for memory. To coax a poor memory system, a faulty hub in my own head, that loves to skew and embellish and elaborate on every memory until it is almost unrecognizable. That very same memory system loves to abolish thoughts and ideas too. And that is why I do it, to create a powerful though still biased memory of you two.
Also to leave a paper trail that I am a good Mama, that I mess it up frequently, but that I essentially find this to be the best. Just the best. And this is true of the two of you too.
So far, things I have to be thankful for this year…
Verbalization :: Words and conversations and spontaneous thought and recollections, ideas and opinions, stories and snippets of songs, reports on your day all couched in the terms of “me” not “I” as this word seem to be absent from your every growing vocabulary. My favorite :: “Me so happy”.
Creation :: Watching the crafts come home, eyeballs placed carefully, placed willy-nilly, paints and glitter and construction paper, the smell of glue and the shreds of paper and scraps from scissor, real Christmas crafts shaping up. The joy and possibility of a clean sheet of paper.
Reading :: To you, from you, book choices, library exploration. I feel almost high when your giddy laughter explodes when Sam finally get him to admit Say! He does like them, those green eggs and ham. It is a delight and I hope that you continue to love reading and I continue to remember this is one of the methods of calming the raging beast that can be 2.58.
Independence :: Am I glad for this? I think, yes. The double edge sword of independence has always been something to be thankful for. You can find your underwear and put it on most days…underwear. That is a trip, that you wear underwear. You can choose a route, a plan and path and follow it; train or car play, park or store with Mama. You can choose, and my, do you make that clear.
I love it, the freedom of my hands when we are engaged in activities. I am thankful for the time to use those hands for dinner or sewing or creating. But there are times when those hands feel empty. That is when I grab you and hold you tight, find a soft part to squeeze gently, a cheek to kiss, a show of affection that brings you close, brings you back.
And there are some things that certainly do not fit into the Thankful category.
-The night wakings and need for some extra love and help almost every night from one of you.
-The meltdowns, the insanely loud and extremely aggravating meltdowns that make me want to find a hole and hide in it.
-The challenges to our requests, that immediate slight shake of head, turn away of attention, willful ignorance.
-The dreaded H1N1 that struck us all down, gave us fevers and night sweats and a terrible croupy cough. And reminded me just how fragile your growing and sturdy bodies can feel when they are not well. And just how little control we have over things when it really comes down to it.
Despite the not so thankful things, and the days that feel desperately hard as we wade through the thickets that can be two at two(.58) I have to weight in heavily on the side of thankfulness.
So, thank you, boys. For the challenges and rewards, the losses and the gains, the ways you bring Thankfulness into my life, ways I never knew before, never imagined.