Truthfully speaking, it’s hard to get out these days — Catering to Sonny’s nap schedule segments the day in such a way that doesn’t allow for a lot of spontaneity or even scheduled adventures, for that matter. Not easily, anyway. But there’s a season for everything and we make do. And if it weren’t for…
A portrait of my family once a month in 2016
Willy: Got put on laundry duty during March Madness and spent a good 5 unnecessary minutes berating me about my underwear, referring to them as homeless looking. Buy me new ones, fucker, buy me new ones.
Hooper: Had so much dirt caked on his neck that I became convinced he developed a birthmark as if developing a birthmark is a thing. I also thought his eyebrows were starting to grow in funny; also, dirt.
Van: Came down in one of Sonny’s shirts compliments of Hooper who had mistakenly hung up Sonny’s shirts with their own. The mid-drift (aka mini-man-drift) combined with the complete lack of awareness made for a good laugh.
Sonny: Pooped out one of the “cuties” stickers found on the little oranges prompting me to consider a hashtag of #thingsfoundinsonnyspoop.
Me: Got distracted the other morning while making the boys breakfast and didn’t realize I left their eggo waffles, which was a huge portion of what we were calling breakfast this particular morning, in the toaster. Came home that afternoon to find two limp, sad waffles. Gave em to Sonny instead. Kidding. But still, Mom fail.
Jimmie: Will be the reason we invent nighttime quiet shoes for dog and become millionaires. His nickname is clink clanks.
Growth & Appearance: Your teeth are starting to make their way in. Your one fang is still the most prominent but you have it’s opposite as well as your top two front teeth also just starting to poke through. Otherwise, not much change; your hair is still a light brown, eyes still grey, same…
Everyone talks about how fast life seems to go, perhaps even more so when you’re a parent and you can see all these little (big) changes that when juxtaposed to the same time just the year before point to how things change, seemingly overnight. The start of kindergarten already pressing down of the culmination of such. A single tooth sitting in my medicine cabinet because the sentimentality of throwing something away that’s been with him for six years feels strange (and yet, so does keeping it). A mouth full of others starting to wiggle, they way he has to bite down on chips out of the side of his mouth a staple for this phase of life. Excitement over new a new toy now giving way to periods of boredom. Tantrums, that we thought were behind us, rearing their mean head; “I hate being a kid” and “I want to make the rules” being my two (least) favorite mantas. And yet, sewn into all of it such innocence and tenderness, am empathy that’s always been a part of who he is; the pare I treasure most about him. From baby, to toddler, to boy all in the blink of an eye; and now, from boy to, I dunno, kid. I can’t think of a guest more uninviting than time.
I snapped these images of Dori and Adam, with sweet Noah, on the brink of the end of one chapter of motherhood and the start of another. The decision of when to ween a breastfed child is so individual, the signs of such different for everyone. Just the other month we were out to lunch when…