Brilliance is getting your back/neck massaged and adjusted, then sleeping on your brother's couch that very same night. And by brilliance, I mean stupidity. The only consolation to a night of fitful sleep was hearing my little Boo's pathetic cry in the morning, around 7:00. I pulled my aching body from the couch and cuddled that little bundle of nephew in my arms while he pushed at my face and cried for mama. You can't win them all.
After my sister fed him his bottle and his blood sugar returned to a happy level, I tried again. There was less crying, so I started a new game. Here are the rules: I look at Aidan's feet with deep longing and hunger, mutter "cookie" over and over again (like a crazy person, naturally), then give in to the temptation and gobble up his pajama'd feet and stomach. He writhes and squeals and laughs, making my heart melt all the while. After he has been thoroughly devoured, he returns the favor. He looks at me, mutters "cookie" (like a crazy person), and lunges his whole little body into my arms, sliming whichever part of my body comes in contact with his mouth. Three months ago, this would have been Aidan's version of a kiss (minus the cookie prelude, of course). The affect on me remains the same: I'm 100% infatuated with my nephew.
There is also a new toy in my brother's household. Yesterday, Todd walked to Petco with the Boo and purchased him the toy of his choice.* For $2.99, Aidan now has four Christmas balls each containing a bell. There is also a feather on top, adding to the holiday joy of this paternal gift. Over Cheerios and tea, Sarah and I sang Christmas songs about bells while Aidan skillfully played percussion. With the feather addition, Aidan could hold all four balls at once, a feat of which he was incredibly proud. I was less proud of my current knowledge of Christmas lyrics, which is a chorus here and there, dissolving into a few words and mostly humming. I have resolved to learn Christmas lyrics and take my nephew caroling, eventually.
The last incident of the morning was while I was drying my hair. Aidan came running into the bathroom mumbling something unintelligible. I'm assuming he thought his hands (filled with green Christmas balls) were drenched through and needed drying. I complied and blasted his hair, hands and feet with the warm air. "Hot" he exclaimed and laughed. In order to complete my own hair drying, I told him the red Christmas balls also needed drying and that he should go fetch them. This gave me about 2 minutes to continue getting ready before he returned mumbling with a concerned look on his face, hands still full of green balls. I blasted him with the hair dryer and again asked him for the red balls, thinking maybe he didn't yet know the difference of color. Two minutes later, he returns again with the green balls, mumbling and concerned. I'm done drying my hair at this point and let my request go. As I'm leaving, I open the child gate to the stairs the two red balls. At some point in the morning, Aidan deposited the red balls through the gate, onto the stairs and very thoroughly out of his own reach. It turns out he does know his colors after all!
My nephew is brilliant.
*Footnote: My brother and Aidan go to Petco to look at animals. My brother is fully aware his son is not an animal, regardless of the fact that toys are very similar for both pets and small children - minus millions of dollars for product testing, of course. No one cares if a dog eats a Christmas light, for example.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Happiness is... my brother and Sarah: 12.01.2011
I'm staying at my brother and sister-in-law's house on Thursdays, because who wouldn't want to spend as much time as possible with my nephew. (My family has also decided that I need the opposite treatment of solitary confinement...which would be... social affliction?) Several days ago, my nephew decided to eat a Christmas light. Sister-in-law caught on to what the little monster was doing with enough time to pull out 2/3 of the munched bulb. The other third is mysteriously gone. Todd and Sarah now have to dig through his poop with a plastic fork, looking for the missing piece. If it doesn't come out by tomorrow, they need to take him to the hospital for x-rays. Between his cookie monster obsession and this incident, we are pretty convinced Aidan is training himself to become the next Michel Lotito. Egads, look at those teeth!
At some point, while talking about the bulb feast of nephew Boo and poo digging, we noticed that Todd is not friends with my uncle, Tim, on the Facebook. With little prompting, Todd sent Tim a friend request, stating that it was depressing his request would never be granted. But what if it suddenly was? What if Uncle Tim responded to the request and we found out Facebook was the missing link to the after world. What if the 80 billion people who have ever lived signed up for Facebook accounts? The systems would crash - whole computer systems would go down!
But then, how cool would it be for me to say that I'm friends with Moses? Or, what would it mean if Moses never friended me back? And what about Abraham, Sarah added. His family connections would include everyone, because his progeny is more numerous than all the grains of sand. Is it bad of me to wonder what sort of Facebook profile Jesus would have? I ask. I bet he would be friends with everyone! No, Sarah decided. He would send out a friend request to everyone and all you would need to do is accept him!
By this point, the three of us are dying laughing. That's terrible! I tell Sarah. Yeah, but it's true though!
I should come up to my brother's house more often.
At some point, while talking about the bulb feast of nephew Boo and poo digging, we noticed that Todd is not friends with my uncle, Tim, on the Facebook. With little prompting, Todd sent Tim a friend request, stating that it was depressing his request would never be granted. But what if it suddenly was? What if Uncle Tim responded to the request and we found out Facebook was the missing link to the after world. What if the 80 billion people who have ever lived signed up for Facebook accounts? The systems would crash - whole computer systems would go down!
But then, how cool would it be for me to say that I'm friends with Moses? Or, what would it mean if Moses never friended me back? And what about Abraham, Sarah added. His family connections would include everyone, because his progeny is more numerous than all the grains of sand. Is it bad of me to wonder what sort of Facebook profile Jesus would have? I ask. I bet he would be friends with everyone! No, Sarah decided. He would send out a friend request to everyone and all you would need to do is accept him!
By this point, the three of us are dying laughing. That's terrible! I tell Sarah. Yeah, but it's true though!
I should come up to my brother's house more often.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)