Time and Tenderness

Last night as I got settled in to bed, I was startled by a metal on metal banging sound on our deck. We have one of those balcony decks that juts off of the side of the house and is only wide enough for a barstool and a 12-pack cooler of boxed wine. I couldn’t place the racket and bravely peered out into the darkness to solve the mystery. I didn’t turn on the light to improve visibility because, honestly, I was afraid of what I’d find. If it was a stalker, robber, or baby snatcher, they’d have to come in the house before I’d take action (makes no sense really). So I got back in to bed and again with the banging. I knew there weren’t any tree branches that could be taping the metal railing as they’re all too large so I held my breath and, click, shed some light on the subject. I found, facing away from the door, a teenage possum banging his head on a metal doorstopper that was perched on the deck. Ding, ding, ding the metals rang out as they connected. I could tell this guy was seriously disturbed, maybe drunk, and definitely not long for this world. Hubby would barely look at the creature and sang out all sorts of rodent-related names. I watched it for a few minutes and begrudgingly closed the curtain, turned off the light and hoped he would make his way far, far away. And then I had a dream that my husband left for another woman (who I’d almost leave me for) in San Francisco on my birthday and I had to walk to the airport. Is there a connection? Maybe. Maybe not.

I got to spend the last two days at home with baby nursing his growing pains and the time with him has really spoiled me. I have concluded that his caregivers should pay us to hang out with him. He’s become more affectionate and interactive in the sweetest ways. When I’m squatting down to do something he either hugs my back or leans on me and makes a clack sound with his mouth meaning he wants to hop on my back while I gallop around the house like an indoor pony. This old gray mare can only make it a couple of laps before I have to put him down to catch my breath. He pats me constantly like a reassuring therapist, stands on my legs when I sit on the floor and spins tales of baby life and adventures in his own language. He totally makes me laugh. He starts back to school next week and I’m sure it will feed his growing spirit. He’ll have lots to babble about then.

We are in the midst of changes in this household of ours…return to school, new sitters, daddy tours, new record release, increased workload at the job, Mexico vacation, landscaping projects…and the list goes on. Please stick around to hear more about this circus that is our lives. It should be fun (or funny, at the least).