Thursday, December 21, 2006

Twee Agan.

If we ever have another baby, I hope it's a girl, and I'm going to name her Twee. I think it's important for everyone to know that; if we ever have a little girl, she will be Twee Agan. I shall call her Twee, and she shall be mine. She will be my Twee.

It has been really really wonderful being with Reed these past few days. I have always been aware that I'm missing out on a lot when I'm at work for nine-and-a-half hours every day, but these days have made me painfully aware. He talks so much; he sits down with his toys and just plays, plays, plays and talks and laughs. He talks to me, too. He tells me long, drawn-out stories that I'm pretty sure involve me, and he gives me his toys so that I can play with them, too. When Jason gets home from work, he gets the biggest smile on his face and runs to the door and literally just stands and waits for it to open. Jason told me that, the last few days of work before my vacation, Reed would start to ask for me towards the end of the day. This is HUGE for me, to know, to have evidence, that he thinks of me and misses me when I'm not here.

This morning, I decreed that Jason should go to McDonald's and get us biscuits. While he was gone, I was sitting in the rocking chair and Reed was playing with his toys when he sat down in a basket and couldn't get up. It's the classic scenario, sometimes played out with garbage cans, in which Person falls in either head- or butt-first and can't get back out. And what did I do? Did I gently pull him back out and make sure that he was okay? NO, SILLY, I laughed my ass off and got the camera, that's what I did. He cried and fussed for about the first 45 seconds, but then he became strangely resolved to his fate. He got completely calm, and just hung out in the basket. He talked a little, explored his surroundings, and gazed out the window. Ah, that we could ALL have the ability to adapt so quickly.

2 comments:

Dobby Mauby said...

I believe those are my shoes!

Um-Ma said...

Reedie,
Do you know your Great Aunt Joanne suffered a similar fate with a trash can when she was little. The fire department was called, and as I recall, they couldn't get her out. Then a neighbor squeezed his hands down into the can and popped her out!