Monday, November 29, 2010

Happy Belated Spanksgiving

I feel like I can't write anymore. I've started this entry about six times trying to find the words to capture four days with family and fourteen without a word about Amari. Am I missing things, forgetting things, becoming immune to the novelty of parenting? Quite the opposite. I'm fully engaged, entertained, and enamored, but by the end of the days I'm too exhausted to put it all together.

Two and a half months into being a full-time stay-at-home dad, Carrie and I have settled into a nice routine that allows us to maximize both our sleep (relatively) and our time with Amari (literally). On weekdays, Carrie wakes up at some ungodly hour around five o'clock and either gets in a workout, grades papers, or preps for classes while Amari sleeps and in the evenings I stay up after her bedtime to write, make videos, or work my new part-time job packaging knitting needles for local company, Brittany Needles. Lately, with the holidays fast-approaching, it's been a lot more work than play. 

Carrie was home again this week, but for any of you who aren't married to a teacher, don't confuse the many weeks off during the school year with vacation. In fact, Carrie set the alarm an hour earlier all week so she could catch up on the piles of essays and scholarships and letters of recommendation her students were anxious to get back. English teachers are like the offensive linemen in football. They work harder than anyone on the field, but don't get appreciated until the end of the year when their quarterback buys them a Rolex. Sorry - it's the best I could do with the Monday Night Football post-game report blaring in the background. 

Go Niners. Four and seven, but only one game out of the NFC Worst. I mean West. 

On Tuesday evening we celebrated our third annual Spanksgiving - a gathering created for friends to avoid Thursday family obligations/conflicts. This year was small. With the Calverts out of town and a couple of no-shows, we were very fortuitously reduced to our family and the Golds. The highlight of the evening, as it often is, was going around the table giving thanks. Granny C and Siobhan offered tear-filled appreciations for family, and Noah brought us home with a poetic tale of his first visit to the coast and how he reflects upon that new beginning with immense gratitude every time he drives over Highway 20. Nicole was beautiful with her bump getting larger by the week, and I'm putting it in writing here that I'm convinced it's a boy. Meanwhile, even little Reya appears to have emerged from her Terrible Two's with almost everyone around her relatively unscathed. All in all, it was a delightful evening.

 Amari, Nicole, and Reya

Amari, Siobhan, and Reya

Wednesday came with a light rain and evening with the Freedoms. Bodhi, Jen, Poet, and Hero arrived in the afternoon and stayed until Amari's bedtime. Amari absolutely loves being around other kids and I think the very grown-up, five year-old Hero likes the idea of having a slightly mellower, much younger, female sibling. Hero also likes to translate for kids who can't speak yet. "I think Amari wants me to pick her up. I think Amari want's to play upstairs. I think Amari wants me to have this toy," and so on. Hero has always been one of my favorite kids, and this visit did nothing to diminish her ranking. She is beautiful, adorable, smart as a whip, and pretty darn funny, too. And by funny, I mean she laughs at my jokes.

Poet, on the other hand, is a boy. I'm always grateful I didn't have one, and this visit did nothing to diminish my gratitude. He's rowdy, a little aggressive, and in my experience perfectly normal. I also really like him, but what I didn't like was his tendency to throw things near Amari with increasing proximity to her head. Fortunately, no children were harmed in the testing of his boundaries. I do have a very cute interview of Poet on video that I will submit with a future blog once I get the image of his little fingers making imaginary guns and shooting my one year-old daughter. I guess Bodhi's right - I'm an old fuddy duddy.

After the Freedoms left, my dad, Brandy, and Dromne arrived and stayed through Sunday. On Thursday afternoon we all drove to Comptche to celebrate Thanksgiving at Sandy's house with our extended family of friends. It was a full house, a fuller table, and festive afternoon/evening.

Poet and Hero help Amari open a belated b-day gift

Jen and Poet capture some other memory

Interview with a Poet coming soon...

Now it's late and I've been rambling and fading. It was really great to have my dad in town again. He and Brandy still plan to move here in a few years which really warms my soul. I only had one grandparent that I remember spending time with, so to have him almost as close as Granny C would be a wonderful, lifelong gift to Amari. 

I am rededicating myself to this blog. Again. Amari is growing and changing so much and so fast that it's hard to keep up with - especially when I don't keep up at all. This morning while we were reading, she blew my mind again. Usually when I want her to crawl over to me, I'll pat the ground next to me and say, "Amari. Come," with an open book waiting to be viewed. This morning, after finishing "Harold and the Purple Crayon," Amari crawled over to her book box, pulled out another book, placed it next her her and said, "Dis," while inviting me over by patting the floor next to her. 

What's she been up to lately? Tons and tons of walking plus the very painful breaking of three new teeth - top front two, and another bottom. Very sucky followed by very cute. Oh, and she also had her first unidentifiable, full-body rash. It was either new detergent or clam chowder, and fortunately it wasn't anything like the disgusting slideshow of hideous rashes I discovered on the Internet while Googling baby rashes. Yikes. 

More soon. I promise...

Here's the star of every week:

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

No comments:

Post a Comment