Thursday, September 15, 2005

My Little Guy

This is the stink.

No, not the child! That's Simon!

See that yellow and white monstrosity in his lap? The stink.

The stink goes everywhere, but it particularly enjoys the kitchen floor, the bathroom floor, the mini-van floor, and Simon's pillow.

For a while, I thought the stink might fall by the growing-up wayside, but with Charlotte's arrival, Simon decided he is actually still pretty little. In fact, he gets younger every day!

He has been going through some major middle child issues recently. Poor little guy. He misses those days when Ethan was at school and it was just the two of us. So do I, now that I really think about it. He was my extra especially-specially best friend. We liked to listen to They Might Be Giants and cook. Simon's a whiz in the kitchen. Sometimes we would watch Martha. We love Martha. His little pointy nose just makes me insane. It's so perky and swoopy! And soft! And those big hazel eyes! Mesmerizing! Mine is a squeeny-eyed family, so those big ones really amaze me. I have no idea how that pointy-nosed, big-eyed, elfin creature came out of me. We would always spend a portion of the morning dancing. And we also loved snoogling on the couch and making up silly rhymes in Boris & Natasha-esque quasi-Russian accents... I miss that.

Charlotte just demands SO much attention, what with the digging through the kitchen trashcan like some deranged bag lady, winging coffee grinds and banana peels over her shoulder in her quest for something really tasty. Or dismantling every tabletop pictureframe within reach, in order to better munch on the glass. Or climbing hastily constructed, teetering towers of toys... Heading for the basement stairs...

Andy and I have been making an effort to really make sure Simon gets some intense one-on-one time with each of us, every day. Wrestling. Made up stories and silliness. Fireworks on the back porch. Maybe bicycling to the park. It's not always easy. But look at that face! Must squish and smoosh! Irresistible!

Except for the stink. Its days are numbered.



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