Archive for the '30 tiny moments' Category
February 25, 2008
breakfast with Charlie
Charlie decided on Friday morning that what he really wanted for breakfast was hot chocolate. That was one too many things to ask me to do, so I said no, we’ll have it this weekend.
On Saturday, he came bouncing downstairs with his blanket hanging over his shoulder like a ragged toga and said, “I would like some HOT CHOCOLATE for breakfast.” Then he thought for a moment and added, “Please.”
February 4, 2008
what it’s like
This morning, as I was making the boys’ lunches in the very early morning quiet, I was thinking about a conversation that Wade and I have every so often, about how we feel like we are walking a fine line between wanting to help our kids, particularly Henry, fit in socially and not wanting to encourage them to grow up too fast. Wade always points out that one of his favorite things about Henry is that even now, at seven and a half, he still takes his stuffed buddies to bed with him every night, arranging them carefully in his bed. When Henry was sick, last week and the week before, he dragged his Elmo around with him for days, and would hug it lovingly and announce, “Elmo is my favorite stuffed friend.” We both find that deeply charming at the same time that we know he would certainly be mocked endlessly at school if his friends knew.
After I took the boys to school, I went to start some laundry, and wrapped up in Henry’s sheets was one of the stuffed friends, his bear Smash. The sheets have been in the laundry room for days, and the poor bear has just been there, waiting to be freed or washed. I put him on the table near my laptop.
February 3, 2008
like a hole in my head
The last thing I need right now is another project; in fact, I am working to pare down and jettison everything that isn’t really really necessary in my everyday life. And yet, perhaps because of that, I found the idea of Jessica’s 30 Tiny Moments Flickr pool irresistible. And so I’m in.
Charlie and I sat together this morning and shared a scone and a cup of coffee. Okay, he had the scone and I had the coffee, but the point is that we just sat and chatted and were peaceful together, for a whole fifteen minutes or so. And at the end of our snack, when my coffee was nearly empty and his scone was just a pile of cinnamon-y crumbs, he held up his cup of water and said, “I want to do a French toast!” And we clinked our cups and said CHEERS! and SALUT! and then we went off to read stories and look at magazines for a while.
It was a good Sunday morning.
