Monday, March 24, 2008

Props for Easter

So we had Easter. It was supercool. Gage colored and hunted eggs. Lila ate asparagus and then her pee smelled bad. (Who knew it happened so young!?) All in all, a great holiday.

My parents gave the kids gift-wrapped books and, for Gage, a small basket of goodies. I was absurdly proud watching my tiny man crouch next to his sister, insisting she help him unwrap the gifts. Tearing the paper with his right hand, holding the gift solidly with his left. Saying "Oh my goodness, Gage SO excited." Little streams of paper tossed haphazardly over his shoulder...it was great. And when he finally had the entire gift unwrapped he screeched "Ooh! A book! I've never seen that [particular book before]." Except, in Gage-speak, it comes out in a rushed "Ooh! I've never-neen-nat." So pleased.

Times like these -it's like watching a video of yourself from the years before you have any memories. It's remembering yourself at your most basic, your most vulnerable. Easter is exciting all over again.

Lila was a beautiful sight in her fancypants Easter dress.

Except for repeatedly wrenching the bow from her hair, she seemed to enjoy the holiday.

Also, she found an abandoned, half-eaten lollipop on a low shelf today (left by Gage, of course, this morning). She was one happy lady, let me tell you. Until the fateful moment I took the pop away. Then there were tears. Only from her - I rather enjoy taking candy from babies.

Gage wore a tie and suspenders for approximately 22 minutes before demanding they be removed. In fact, he demanded the *shirt* be removed as well, but thanks to my mom's quick thinking he settled for having the top button unbuttoned.

Ah, yes. He's Mike's and my son, for sure.

All this dressing up business can be fun: for a very limited amount of time. And then...bring on the pajama pants. Okay, that's more me than Mike. But you know what I'm saying.

When the kids were sleeping and the house was straightened, Mike actually dragged me outdoors today. In the summer he doesn't have to drag - I'm the one dragging him. But when it's cold I lack enthusiasm for the world outside my nest. Oops - I meant to say: The world outside my house.

Once outside we played with this little wooden toy we bought several years ago - a small propellor toy that's just a dowel with a blade on top.
We bought it for about $1.50 and it's proved to be the best $1.50 we've spent on anything, ever. So many times we've gone outside to play with this toy - spinning the thing back and forth to each other across an expanse of grass - reaching high to intercept a bad spin, deftly catching a good one. Teasing each other for awful tosses, blaming the wind for missed catches.

And we talk.

There's far too little talk in our everyday lives. We talk about the kids, we talk about work, the house, chores, the news, what happened on Jon & Kate Plus 8. We talk about money, sex, all the things every couple talks about. But sometimes then there's not all that much more time. Or there's time, but all we can think about is getting some rest.

So we need to get ourselves outside - we need to do *something* to get ourselves in an out of the ordinary situation - to reconnect and discover each other all over again.

Yeah, a $1.50 simplest toy ever. I think we should consider buying a back-up. You know. Just in case.

You should probably get one, too. You never know when it'll come in handy. For now, you can keep it in your glove compartment.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

For Michael and me it's a Tigger bouncy ball. Same thing, though. Sadly (or perhaps not so sadly for us, but some might frown at us for it) we find Finn is a good fetcher of said ball. Michael and I throw it back and forth across Finn's room while he plays merrily with his trains or what-not, simply content that both Mommy and Daddy "come upstairs?" (as he asks us repeatedly and with such expectant pleading in his voice when we are downstairs), and then when one of us misses it, we say "Finn... can you get the ball?" and he bounds off in that direction (horrible, exploitative parents, aren't we!). There's talking and a lot of laughing and deep-down silliness. It's a really good equalizer to counteract the daily muck.