Gifted children

Today we walked home from the park with a leaf each. Well, actually you had two, but you gave me one. 'Here ya go!', you said with great aplomb.

You are the soul of aplomb. Honey, last week you turned two and I am so overwhelmed with the sweet thing you are. I want to etch into the LCD here some notes about you, something to remember, for good. (thanks for the sample, cookie)

So, there are the leaves you picked up at the park. You followed your standard continuum of discovery, analysis and mastery. Find it, ask me to explain it 'whaz that' and then wrap it all up with a nice game. In this case it was the tale of two leaves clapping. We both laughed as we played on the way home.

Bless your sweet voice, and your hearty one, too. Your uncle really enjoyed your rhythmic recitation of oh darn/oh shit at the birthday visit you two took to the playground. You make a good point, that one crawl-y tube was tricky shit. Your grandmother is right, there isn't any song you don't know. I swear you have memorized your nursery rhyme treasury. Songs heard around here in the last week include: Sing, Sing What Shall I Sing, Mary Had a little Lamb (remix), Wind the Bobbin Up (extended dance mix), Sha-boom Sha-boom, John Henry, and, of course Happy birthday. Word of the the week, immediately.

Since the baby came home I have been struck by your propensity for proprietarieness over him. Thank you for all your help. I didn't expect much but out of necessity and curiosity you have done so much. You fetch diapers, commandeer cats, retrieve burp cloths and lots more. It does a mama's heart good to watch you wash your brothers toes or shoulders, as you did tonight. Thanks for all the yummy vegetables we've had for dinner due to the great job you did 'painting' them with the salt/pepper and olive oil.

You are a lil' bossy. I smile with pride everytime to announce 'I'm a lil' bossy' -- yes, yes you are. It makes you that lil' bit more mine. You look so much like your Dad, everyone says. Sometimes I forget that you are AT ALL mine genetically. But when you say that I know that inside you are Mama's girl!

I waste my words here. Honey, while you are a quantum being I cannot quantify the energy that fills this house everytime I hear the click of your door handle. I stand in amazement of what you dispense; the giggles with that stranger on the ferry yesterday; the little tasks you take so seriously; the wry smile that goes with all you say and sing and dance.

What could I have done to deserve these children? You give so much to me.

Still, I speak. Why? Well to show that our children are not empty vessels to be filled up with sleep training and holy-oh-organic-pablum and tiny tots underwater yogasize! They are givers and gifts. The phrase for the week around here has been what you read in the first line of this post, 'Here ya go!' Thanks baby. Thanks for the bite of imaginary cherry cobbler and then some of the blueberries that grow between your toes. Thanks for the kiss from Barry Bear and the garbage you gave me to toss. Big thank-you for the kiss to daddy for no reason and the tissue for me when I needed it. Thank you for giving so much each day; you make the stuff we are expected to give flow a lot more freely.

Gosh, I am so behind. I got tagged for a meme by that celebrity blogger, L. I have a great post languishing in response to HBM's report your cause challenge. And, I have an honest report on how there are no longer enough hours in my days. Wish me luck with good naps and some swell posting week.