the "thoughts on no particular matter" bit: sleep has been grim. I am a sleeper, or at least, used to be. Now, I dread sleep. Well, maybe it's not so much that I dread the actual act of sleeping, but the going to sleep bit. The hour spent prior to sleep is good. We play. Alasdair dons kisses upon kisses with bites in between, followed by lots of movement and moans and attempts to stay awake far past anyone's idea of a 'reasonable' bedtime for an 8 1/2 month old. At about that time, when the hour is past, I begin to dread the upcoming 8 hours. I know they will be full of wakeful minutes, possibly even hours, and it will never fail that at most points of wakefulness, my neck with ache. Oh, well. Alasdair is teething---I try not to complain. so, that's sleep. Not happening.
Other thoughts that frequent the track in my mind revolve around my love of this place, this life. It is very simple. We don't have much--then again, we don't need much. No one does, really. It was so easy to get caught up in the city. In whatever. Another $5 coffee, more toys, purchased art, too many clothes, gas guzzled on trips circling the city, an unnecessary car payment. Up here it's actually difficult to spend money. Online, yes... it's possible. But I've veered away from steep and cheap. thank goodness. The greatest perk: I've found that raising Alasdair up here has given me a fuller confidence in my parenting ability.
the "alasdair" bit: I couldn't be more in love. He is such a happy person. He's nearly walking, though I don't think it will happen for a couple more months, I do think he's capable if he chooses. He pulls up on everything and often lets go of everything, standing for anywhere from 5-15 seconds, then he slowly lowers down. We recently bought him a wooden "activity cube," which he loves to push around. Here he is:
His two bottom teeth are in and growing big. Right now he's working on the top four, two of which (the middle and one next to it) have popped through. Poor little guy. I can't imagine the pain. It's going to change his look so much. I have (yet to tell Ben that I've decided...) that Alasdair's first word is: dog. Every morning, searching for Morley, he says "daw-daw," and each time he sees him, the same. I really do think he's saying it, in his baby-style. It's been about three weeks now, so I'm dubbing it "official." And, of course, he loves loves loves to say "da-da-da-d-a-da" and on and on and on. No mama, soon, I hope. Ah, and food: he's finally showing a little bit of interest in it. Yesterday he actually picked up a slice of cantaloupe and put it in his mouth, rather than on the floor. Today he did the same---then gagged and threw up. Scary.
the "where have we been" bit: Southern Utah and Pocatello, baby. Good times. the south was so so warm and lovely and red-rocky; glorious. Ben had to attend an annual water treatment conference. Blah. It worked out for Alasdair and I, though--while Ben was in class we were able to roam Snow Canyon State Park, just outside of St. George. Beautiful sand beds and red rock, accented with green trees and animal tracks. Lovely. Ben was able to head out with us one day. Photos:
Do you think those are cat tracks? A dog of sorts? Domestic dogs weren't allowed in Snow Canyon, so I'm curious.
After our return from down south, Alasdair and I took off to Pocatello to visit one of my very best friends, Breck, and her 20-month-old daughter (and future love and/or best friend of Alasdair), Brynn. It was so much fun to see them play together.
Ah---Alasdair calls. I suppose this is why it sometimes takes me three weeks to write anything.. always fearing I'll get half-way and have to quit.
At least I got this far.
1 comment:
i dread bedtime too. you just never know what to expect. although waking up earlier than you want is a sure thing, right? haha.
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