Tuesday, August 22, 2006

What is it about our kids that you just want to capture them exactly as they are every second? And then they keep growing, and you just want them to hold still, and stop, and be a baby for one more day. I thought that by working part-time I would have more than enough time at home with my kids, and that being able to go to the office would be a blessing for me. But it's not. I still want to stay home every day, and this weekend I am leaving to go to the Palm Springs Short Film Festival and I can't imagine how I am going to get through two days of not being with them. (I also wonder how Erik will do with them for an entire day through the night...).

Today, I got ready to go for work, and when the babysitter came, Owen ran to her and gave her a big hug, and then Tess looked up at her and gave her this warm small. Tess has the greatest smile. She smiles with her eyes. When she looks at you and her smile spreads slowly up her face, and her bluer-than-blue eyes light up, it makes me catch my breath. She is going to be some beauty. I have had so many people stop me and tell me how beautiful she is, and of course, I am biased. But they really mean it. Erik said to me the other day that she is "model beautiful". All I know is that I am so in love with both of my kids.

I watched Owen tonight as he leapt onto the couch, pulling himself up onto the pillows, then did somersaults across the couch, and finally lowered himself on the floor, where he proceeded to roll a couple of times on the rug, (all while wearing his cute little "Finding Nemo" underwear), and I was amazed at how lithe his body is. I was amazed at how much he can do with his muscles, and his balance and his knowledge of his place in his little world. All from a little man who we were led to believe would be nothing short of a village idiot, sitting in the middle of the floor, rocking. I can't wait for our kids to prove themselves, to mock the medical community with their ability to be someone who can excel, who can be a part of society, who can matter.

And the way he makes Tess laugh. Sometimes he throws toys at her head (yes, I'm trying to stop that), but Tess screams with laughter when he does. She thinks everything about him is funny. She lights up when he comes into the room and turns his attention to her: as do we all. He is our joy, our light, our reminder that nothing is ever as it seems.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

It sounds like things are running more soothly these days - great to hear everyone is doing well.

6:35 AM  

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