In the hospital they encouraged me to nestle Nicholas against my naked skin, so familiar he was with my scent after 37 weeks. It was my favorite part, that closeness. A small, gentle weight rooting, sighing and occasionally twitching limbs shocked by the sudden freedom to explore. I wanted to graze my fingers along his soft skin forever because his skin was softer than anything, even the wishes you whisper under your breath so nobody will hear.
He’s harder now. More firm and strong, and though his limbs still twitch, it is now in anticipation. The only thing that shocks now are boundaries and, perhaps, potty training. I was just out of the shower wearing towels around my head and body when he came to me limping, upset that his sock was wet.
“It’s because you had an accident. If you don’t go potty in the toilet, your pants and socks will get wet.”
“Change it, mama. Please?” One small orange sock with a blue toe pointed gingerly in my direction.
I thought about what everyone has told me, both friends and books, about letting them feel uncomfortable. Letting them stew, if you will.
“No, not right now. I need to get dressed. When I’m done dressing, I will change you.”
“Oh, mama!” Face cupped in small hands, the classic pose of defeat. “No, mama, no. I don’t like this wet sock.”
“I’ll change you when I am done dressing.”
I was able to put on my bra and underwear before I caved, although maybe he didn’t know that. Technically, I was more dressed than before.
“Let’s get you changed.”
“I don’t like this wet sock, mama.”
“I know.”
Nicholas likes to wrap himself around me like a koala bear when I hold him, so I hoisted him up awkwardly from underneath one arm and a thigh to avoid getting wet. And, apparently, accidentally but most definitely noogied his thigh with my fingers. He cried.
A lot.
While I took off his clothes, he cried. While he stepped into his pull-up, he cried. He cried from the pain (although I still don’t understand what I did or how I hurt him) and from frustration, probably, until he sucked in air with short little gasps. I decided a pull-up was enough clothing for the time being.
We moved to the glider, me in my unmentionables and he in his pull-up, once again skin to skin.
For a very long time we rocked back and forth, a tangle of limbs and warm skin. The solid weight of him, the murmurs, the shudders and gasps that slowly came to an end were all a supreme comfort. I grazed my fingers along skin softer than anything, even wishes whispered under your breath that ultimately came true.
……………………..
For those who are new here, Favorite Moment is a series of posts I wrote every Friday when I first started this blog. The point of the exercise was to encourage me to reflect on the week, pick my favorite moment, and write about it.
The Mister surprised me by starting his vacation two days early. Yay! We’ll be spending time with the boys until he goes back to work after the new year. Boo!
I’ll be in and out (mostly out) until then. Some of the things I hope to accomplish during this time include
- Dunking these freshly made marshmallows into some hot chocolate
- Picking out a new paint color for the living room. I’m thinking a pretty pear green to go with the fabric in these curtains, but I’m not sure. These curtains will go all along one wall (we have two picture windows and an 8 foot slider) and while I like them along the wall, I think they might be too busy with the large stone fireplace. Kindly ignore the evidence of living with two little boys. {Also, don’t worry design fans–we’ll be hanging the curtains up higher than they are now.}
- Learning how to do that thing in Photo Shop Elements where you can paint your walls virtually to get an idea of how a paint color will work.
- Update the blogroll
- Read lots and lots of books.
See you next year!
I couldn’t figure out what I didn’t like about my Christmas cards right away. I was more concerned with Mikey, who all this week had been suffering, along with his brother, from what he likes to call, “Chaos in my underwear.” When we left the house he was feeling grand, but by the time we entered Costco he looked like his stomach was bothering him again. I chalked up my distaste for the cards to my insufferable perfectionism and quickly pushed my cart away from the photo counter and towards the the tummy safe, restaurant-sized, boxes of Minute Rice.
Between aisles 10 and 13 I checked the photo cards two more times. There was something about them I couldn’t put my finger on. I showed them to Mikey, who proclaimed them stupendous in between winces caused by intestinal distress.
I called the Mister from the car to let him know we would soon be able to claim the title of World’s Most Disconcerting Christmas Cards. He showed an interest only a husband called while working to discuss photo cards could show.
I checked the cards again at a couple of stop lights, and at the second stop light, with the sun high overhead and magnefied by my windshield it hit me. I knew exactly what was wrong with the photo cards. In fact, under the harsh reality of daylight, I couldn’t believe it took me so long to figure it out.
Nicholas had green hair.
Sure, it wasn’t Kentucky grass green. But it sure as heck wasn’t auburn, either. Nico’s hair had the eery green cast of a blonde who has spent the summer in a chlorine filled pool. Where there normally hints coppery red highlights was drab olive. It was like his hair was in renal failure. I tossed the cards on the passenger seat and sighed with disgust when the light turned, appropriately, green.
Back at home, I decided to make the best of it. It took me a solid 15 minutes to figure out Nicholas had highlights the color of pea soup. Surely, in that case, no one else would notice his jaundiced coif in the hustle and bustle of holiday greetings. This isn’t my first time facing off with rogue Christmas cards. I would make it work.
I sat down to write out my cards, but try as I might, I couldn’t think of a single greeting that didn’t reference green hair.
Happy Holidays!
Hope these cards don’t leave you green with envy!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Please join us this year in adopting a greener lifestyle.
May your Christmas be Merry and Bright!
{just not bright enough to notice our child’s green hair}
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Stop laughing.
I couldn’t do it. All I could see was 50+ people across the U.S. choking on Christmas cookies after opening our cards. That night, I went back to Costco and prepared myself for a fight. Instead, the woman at the counter took one look at the cards and said, “Whoa. They do have a greenish cast, don’t they?”
And 20 minutes later, I walked out of Costco with brand new Christmas photo cards. In black and white.
