Getting Older

Tomorrow night is my “39 Forever” birthday party, and probably the last party we will have in this house. If we sell it. Today we had open house and nobody showed up. Well, one agent who was sitting open house up the street, and one neighbor. I’m not sure if it’s the holiday weekend coming up, or that people are suddenly gun shy, especially the way the economy has turned. But like I said to Erik, I wouldn’t be upset if we didn’t sell. I kind of like having the kids share a room together. I know they are a girl and a boy, and more than likely they will each need their own space one day, but for now, I can handle the two of them so close together. Besides, every night Owen wakes up and comes to my side of the bed, and I like that.

I am sad about selling this house. There are so many wonderful memories for me, and my family. I am sad each day when I watch the sky change from the den, and the trees blow in the wind, I know I will miss my view. I know as sure as I am sitting here that I will miss the afternoons spent playing with the kids in the den, the hills sending down their afternoon breeze, I will miss the mornings writing in the dining room, watching the sun wash over the hills, and the cozy nights in front of the fireplace. I like having everyone close together; I feel that the minute we buy a bigger house, we will have more space between us all. Maybe we will just have to have more kids, then.

I am sitting here at home, by myself, the kids asleep since 8 o’clock, and Erik out for the night. It was so nice to just indulge in having a nice dinner with a glass of wine, and reading the paper, something I never seem to be able to accomplish anymore. I looked in on Tess and Owen a few minutes ago, and I noticed Owen’s belly hanging out over his pajamas. I know that kids have that pooch, but sometimes I wonder why all his body seems to be going so soft. His arms are still fleshy, and his stomach seems to grow while his chest becomes more concave. It makes me wonder if he is going to be an overweight Down Syndrome child, since so many of them have issues with weight. And I can tell you why: when I see my child compared to other 3-year olds, he doesn’t have nearly the energy they have. He doesn’t expend as much energy running around, therefore, he will is less active and holds onto more weight. Maybe I am just being too subjective, and not keeping in mind that he was only born three years ago, and maybe it’s just baby fat still. I hope…

Tess was laughing today, and it was the cutest thing. I can already tell that at four months old she is ahead of where Owen was at then, although I didn’t want to admit it. Owen didn’t look at me and laugh out loud for a long time, or maybe I don’t remember. I just know that Tess is the norm, she is what people get to experience every day, and I look at her as this complete miracle. Wow! She can grab that toy! Wow, she rolled over…there will be more as we continue on, but for me, she is such a joy to watch because that painful way of thinking, “will he do it? Or not?” doesn’t make me cringe, like I did with Owen. She will do it, and she will do it naturally. That is why I want another child. To experience the miracle of nature. Not that Owen isn’t a miracle, it’s just that I see how hard things are for him sometimes and I want to help him all the time. He has learned how to walk up and down the back stairs from our deck to the lower deck without assistance. He slowly, ever so slowly!, grabs the next part of the railing and precedes one step at a time. Sometimes he gets stuck and calls out for help. I am so proud of him, and yet a part of me feels so badly for him that it had to take him so long. I feel that way every time he learns a new skill: pride, but the pride is at war with pity. And I don’t want to pity him, because I’m sure that he doesn’t want my pity. If he is Erik’s son, he will never want pity.