Word Winding

attempting to spin cacophony into sanity

Unphotographed Moments – Day Nine

(This post is part of a series for August 2013 entitled “Unphotographed Moments.” Read the intro to the series here.)

Today’s Unphotographed Moments:

Owlet finally returning to doing all the motions in music class! I teach the class, and I was really bummed when she stopped participating (probably because most of the other kids were frolicking). Mind you, it didn’t bother me that the other kids weren’t doing the singing and gestures because I knew they were learning anyway, but it is always different with your own child. Still, I have tried not to push, and now that the class is leaning toward those who do participate, she is finally making her triumphant return. Between that and Platypup reprising his kissing at the appropriate time in the song I was really flying high.

Looking across the table at Thor while out on an actual date and savoring a moment of silence in the conversation. Silence for collecting thoughts. Actual, uninterrupted thinking time… together. We were cute and gooey and very very happy and afterward we went out to pick up milk so Thor could make ice cream with Owlet (blackberry flavor, of course, since we went berry picking yesterday) and wound up buying five cases of beer since we always feel sleazy buying beer with kids in tow unless we have a bunch of other groceries, too. We speculated on how the age estimates other people apply to us must be a decade off with vs. without offspring.

Oh, forgot one that happened pre-date: explaining to Owlet what a date was and why we were going on one. Egads. I swear it hasn’t been that long It’s been that long. I said it was when two people who love each other go out together and do something fun, then referenced my shopping date with her the previous day. She nodded.

Teaching Owlet to play her favorite song (The Adventures of Isabel by Natalie Merchant) on the violin. She made it through the first two lines actually putting her fingers on the string and everything.

Taking Owlet to the loo. Platypup decided he had to nurse. Ok. Then Owlet pooped and needed wiping. She has wiped herself a handful of times after “number two” (always does after “number one”) but mostly prefers assistance. And by prefers, I mean, will demand at top volume. While Platypup is napping. I said she could wipe herself or wait till Platypup was done. Impatiently, she chose to wait. While waiting, I mentioned that she would be able to do it herself all the time soon. Dismissively — scornfully! — she declared, “No! I am not EVER going to do the wiping,” to which I inquired as to how she would handle wiping when she was, say, my advanced age. Without hesitation, she replied, “you will always wipe me, of course.” This assumption of my longevity always hits a little extra hard with my own mother gone. She hasn’t asked yet where Grandma Jackie is. I am holding off on that discussion as long as possible since it undermines my essential permanence in her world.

Putting both children to sleep — alone — by 7pm. What? Nuking myself dinner, cracking open a beer, putting chipotle sauce on my unfrozen burrito and …Platypup wakes up. Put him back to sleep. Return, eat two bites and …Platypup wakes up. Put him back to sleep. Return. Scarf that thing! Chug that beer! Write this blog post. Cross those fingers.

———-

Today’s one-shot photo:

20130809-202559.jpg

This is what I dined with — Owlet’s towers of stringing beads arranged by color. Yes, she is at that stage of preschoolhood, and it is all kinds of cute.

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