Some days I feel on top of the world, happy and fulfilled.
Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were such days.
I felt intrepid and daring, navigating the 95s --around Alexandria and up in Baltimore-- and driving around and exploring. I felt proud, knowing that little Herr Meow had turned 4 months old and is thriving so well thanks to me and my feeding him nothing but mama's milk. I felt energized, after having gone to a Mommy & Me yoga class and meeting really nice people there. I felt happy, knowing that we'd only spent a week in D.C. and we already had fallen in love with a gorgeous neighborhood and were eager to settle down and be chic and urban yuppieish parents, zipping around in the Metro and finding a (hopefully) cute little Victorian to call home someday soon.
And then there are days like the last half of yesterday, where I realize that without my husband I'm probably not much, and that I will miss him dearly when he goes to his top secret command --which he will, for about a week. And the glow of the sun has that slight petrochemical tinge that makes me fear for all that is green. And some of the girls in the forum where I go post say things that irk me -- or completely and absofuckinglutely IGNORE my replies and continue to wonder things that I've already replied to, eons ago. And I kinda wander online and I find few things to console me. And I remember that I haven't replied to the meme that Melissa kindly tagged me to do, or that I have yet to call my DC contacts, or send SEVERAL thank you notes, or mail the postcard for the kid's project that I thought I mailed but it turns out I didn't and I'm SO sorry. And I hear from friends in Hawaii and start to miss it, despite the fact that it hasn't stopped raining in over a month and it's humid and gross. And I miss my husband some more, even before he leaves. And I miss my mother --even if we drive each other batty sometimes. And I even miss the landlady --whom I've known for just one week, but now she'll be gone for two.
But then I hear the contented and warbly breathing of the baby and I realize that as irrelevant as I feel sometimes, those feelings are in themselves irrelevant when faced with him and all the joy that he brings.
Cliché police, come bust me now.
But I just cannot help myself. I keep on having these "Aha!" moments, wherein it suddenly clicks in my tiny mind why it is that people have children. They ARE that much fun. They ARE that precious and funny and every single giggle, spit, fart and blink you want to capture somewhere and put it away in a box where it cannot be forgotten or tarnished by time.
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We're going to miss the cherry trees blooming around the Mall. I can feel it.
They've been going crazy everywhere else, but for some reason they take a little longer to bloom over there --even if it's less than 5 miles away. But they started on Friday. And we have yet to go and I really really want to go. I just thought I'd jot that down.
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Herr Meow can grab things accurately now. On Friday, he managed to wriggle himself close enough to grab one of the heavy silver forks at the Indian restaurant. Today, he grabbed his daddy's plate, and I SWEAR he was angling for the bacon.
Nothing is safe now.
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