In the days and weeks before Cal was born, I remember fretting about running out of milk and the garbage piling up once I was in the hospital in labor. So I spent much of my final days of pregnancy at the store and taking out the trash. Of course, these were really concerns about Abbott and the impending split of my attention and care. And then he was born, effortlessly, almost, the labor, the first month of his baby life. I carried him from room to room in his little moses basket, and he simply slept. It seemed like a miracle.
I've thought back to being seven.
Like he'll be soon, I was a first grader. I remember a lot about that year.
Like him, I saw Star Wars for the first time; I was seven the year it came out. We watched it tonight as his birthday request.
The older he gets, the more certain similarities between the two of us become more pronounced, and that is not always an easy thing.
Every time we get ice cream, he chooses a new flavor, and I love that about him.
He's come home with more love notes from more girls, already, than I care to think about.
He has an almost intuitive understanding of physics, a deep and abiding love for all animals, a fierce temper and a strong silly streak. He would always rather stay home, when given a choice. Right now he plans to buy the house across the street when he's too old to live here.
I want to freeze frame so much of right now.
I cannot possibly imagine loving him more, but I know I will, even as soon as tomorrow. Love grows.
Today at the Ballard Locks
Thinking of all of you East Coasters facing the threat of Hurricane Irene. Stay safe. xoxo
Once tomato season arrives, there is almost always tabouli to be found in our house. Ripe tomatoes alongside the bright flavor of parsley are perfect on a summer's day. When I first started making it, in college, I used the recipe found in the Moosewood Cookbook. I've experimented through the years; here's how I like it best.
Abbott is full of entrepreneurial ideas, and his wheels are always turning. When we pick blackberries on our street, he wants to sell them at the farmer's market. He regularly lobbies to turn our garage into a restaurant. Today, however, a neighbor kid took the cake with door-to-door lemonade sales. How can you say no to that?
Sailing, recently, with neighbors.
In the days and weeks before Cal was born, I remember fretting about running out of milk and the garbage piling up once I was in the hospital in labor. So I spent much of my final days of pregnancy at the store and taking out the trash. Of course, these were really concerns about Abbott and the impending split of my attention and care. And then he was born, effortlessly, almost, the labor, the first month of his baby life. I carried him from room to room in his little moses basket, and he simply slept. It seemed like a miracle.
