Baby Learns to Crawl

A few days ago we noticed a loose tooth in Thea's mouth. Bottom right. A little wiggly.

Thea is four and has expressed great enthusiasm for having a wiggly tooth like her older brother and sister.

But four seems a little young for a wiggly tooth.

We went through all of the things that it could be:

1. Sucking two fingers, regularly.
2. A bump to the mouth.
3. Sibling rambunctiousness.
4. Alien abduction.
5. Pink Kitty (Pink Kitty gets blamed for a lot these days).

Of course it took us forever to realize that it might be that she is losing her first tooth.

Why would she lose a tooth? How could she lose a tooth?

MY BABY IS NOT LOSING A TOOTH!

A quick look behind the loose tooth revealed the cause: a big girl permanent tooth making its way into the world, rearing its bumpity little head, causing parents to hide tears of sadness--I mean joy.

Thea is genuinely happy about the prospect of gaining a big girl tooth in the place of her silly old baby tooth. She is genuinely happy about her first visit from unicorns and the tooth fairy.

But I'm not as easily convinced that this tooth thing is a good thing.

It means one thing: I'm losing my baby. She is being replaced by a girl. A big, big girl, a teenager, almost. And there is nothing to be done about it.

Do you hear that internet? Nothing.

She will grow and I will mourn and hold on to the bits of baby that are left, cat whiskers, for example.

When she stops drawing 100-whiskered cats, expect another ridiculously maudlin post from me. You might not want to be around, say, when I write about her first day of kindergarten (September, you've been warned).

Love you baby girl.

Love you. Always.

Eel the Komodo Dragon

Cole's class is making self-published, hard cover books. He is very excited about this project.

I found this draft on our dining room table.

PS--I asked Cole a little bit about his drawing and ideas. He reports that the picture is Eel in Antarctica, one of the many places the Komodo dragon tries out in his search.

Eel The Komodo Dragon

This story is about one Komodo dragon. He just doesn't know that where he is is where he should be so he goes to different places and tries to find his true home but when he finds out that where he was is his true home he has to fix his life.

Living

Rumbling thoughts. Trying to remember so that I don't forget.

Horribly sentimental, remembering my babies in the house. Round the table, the center of this house, talking about Howard Blackburn and what makes a hero.

Colored lights on the tree. Elaborate squirrel traps. Butter on steak.

Babies crawling across the floor give way to running children, through the yard, past peonies in full bloom.

Saint Francis in the garden says a prayer for us all.

Bless this family. Bless these people.

It is the people who make the memory.

We forget, sometimes, what we don't want to remember. Sometimes we forget what we want to remember.

But we try to hold on in some small way.

I remember fires in the fireplace and smokey living room, sitting in the sun, tea and coffee. Stone steps.

Halloween and masks and the piano. Knitting in the sitting room, knitting in the living room. Knitting hats. Mittens.

Her hands. His laugh. Our laughter.

Braided rug, in our house now.

Pictures and pictures. Listening with Aidan, assignment for school to retell a story that has been passed down from generation to generation.

The story of Nena with her sister and her German mother in Washington DC in the park and being asked not to speak German. Nena's memory. Nanny's memory and now Aidan's memory, recorded in her Book of Me.

The memories continue as I think. Some flutter in front of me and are lovely and disappear as quickly as I have remembered them. Some linger, like stringed instruments.

There is beauty and sadness in memories. There is something ghostly that comes from knowing that this is my memory and only my memory.

Others have different memories. We try to remember what we want.

Living becomes mixed up with dying.

Influence

e.e. cummings poem, followed by ra ra riot lyrics

dying is fine)but Death

?o
baby
i

wouldn't like

Death if Death
were
good:for

when(instead of stopping to think)you

begin to feel of it,dying
's miraculous
why?be

cause dying is

perfectly natural;perfectly
putting
it mildly lively(but

Death

is strictly
scientific
& artificial &

evil & legal)

we thank thee
god
almighty for dying
(forgive us,o life!the sin of Death


Dying is Fine, John Pike, Wesley Miles, e.e. cummings

To settle our thoughts
Never minding what for
nothing of a harm to dread
On my mind
Tell me what belies
Oh Tell me what I could have
Oh
Tell me what for

No more of this living dying
Just scientific analyzing
Forgive us oh life
The sin of

Death oh baby
You know that dying is fine but maybe
I wouldn't like death if death were good
Not even if death were good

Is this it
Maundering about and
All I have is too much time
To understand
One can only love
Life until its ending
Oh
And I can't forget

No more of this living dying
Just scientific analyzing
Forgive us oh life
The sin of

Death oh baby
You know that dying is fine but maybe
I wouldn't like death if death were good
Not even if death were good