Five Buckys

Sunday morning we woke up really early to eat muffins and drink fresh squeezed orange juice because we are fancy. Okay, actually it was just our way of making orange juice out of the oranges life gave us…6am is real early, August. We spent the rest of the morning getting ready for church. We had plans to be there on time. We had plans to maybe be there early to get a good parking spot. We had plans. But we are silly because we are parents of an eight month old boss. A baby boss who decides to start his nap three minutes before his parents had their clocks synced to be out of the door. Foiled. When the boss woke up, we went to Lowe’s. I hate Lowe’s. It is big and loud and I’m constantly worried that all the very high and very heavy top shelf items are going to fall on my head, even though Jared had countless times tried to teach me otherwise. Jared loves Lowe’s. And as it turns out, Gus loves Lowe’s. Boys. And inevitably, with all the empty aisle tomfo...

Today marks the celebration of August experiencing every season. Happy spring, friends!   But because of this lingering cold weather and because of the lingering weeks of his mama being sick, August is spending his very first day of spring inside this apartment playing and snacking and watching PBS. I know he loves his toys and his snacks and his PBS, but I feel super guilty. I want to feel better so badly so I can bring this little boy out to the park to celebrate this first day of his first spring, even if we have to be all bundled up. But, then I see a pair of little shiny smiling eyes looking at me from across all the toys and all the snacks and all the PBS. And what I know is this. For the two of us: spending this spring day in our home playing and exploring and chatting and occasionally stopping just looking at each other, well this is our day in the park. And that’ll do, that’ll do.

8am: Morning tickles. 9am: Homemade bagel while the baby naps. 10am: Good morning sweet nap face. 11am: Waffle wheels, yes indeed. 12pm: He-hey everybody! It’s me, Mickey Mouse. 1pm: Daddy’s home for lunch and we stare at him because he’s cute. 2pm: Up from our 2nd nap & on our way to see Daddy at work. 3pm: Just putting in some time at the office. 4pm: Family walk because hello weather. 5pm: Boy fell asleep! Impromptu FroYo date. 6pm: Dinnertime. We like our beans green. 7pm: Nighttime family portrait. Good night, good day. Good night.

August sleeps with the sun, always has.  Which means the time change made a dad leave for work without a goodbye kiss from his boy. And when the boy awoke at the good, good (good, good) hour of 8:30, he looked around his mama’s shoulders for his Daddyfriend, but no dice. This is all really sad if you are this dad’s wife and this boy’s mama. But at the top of the one o clock hour: sad no more! Three cheers for this lunch hour reunion! An hour of kisses, tickles, snuggles, and even an extra special floor nap. These two. They are good people. This is all really good if you are this dad’s wife and this boy’s mama.

This here is a recipe for my warm fuzzies.  My sweet happy baby and my old monkey friend met and decided to be the best of friends. Shucks! I’ve had this little monkey friend for 15 years! Fifteen! You may not know this about me, but I don’t keep  anything  for 15 years, I’m the opposite of a hoarder. “Pitch it” is one of my favorite phrases. When I clean a room, I grab a giant black trash bag to start. That sort of thing.  But this little guy here. Well, this little monkey friend named Boing (you just can’t pitch things you name) has been hanging around on my unmade bed for years and years, even through college. But s ince I’ve been married, he has found a home on my nightstand. I wasn’t exactly sure what would become of him. That is, until the other day when my dreamy little son and I were playing on my bed and he began to crawl and reach as he does. Crawl. Reach. Crawl. Reach. gasp. Crawl. Reach. Until I finally realized, that crawling ...