Check-In

It's starting to get cold out. I really noticed it yesterday while we were out taking a family run. We bundled the boys into their coats, made sure they had warm socks and shoes on, loaded them into the stroller, and started out on one of the variations of our southern-direction jogging route. I made the switch to long pants and a jacket a few weeks ago, but I think we've almost reached the point where I'm going to need a hat and gloves. Whenever we'd run in the shade I could feel the cold stinging on my hands. More importantly, we're nearing the point where I don't think we can load the boys into the stroller and force them to sit without moving for a half-hour, no matter how warmly we bundle them up and blanket them.

This is too bad, because they both really like going for runs. It functions as a reset for both of them, and if they've been cranking or whining (or if George has been whining on their behalf) they usually are in a better frame of mind after a little fresh air and a tour of the neighborhood dogs, stop signs, and Halloween decorations.

J was smart and actually wore a hat yesterday. She has a very fashionable new running beanie as part of our ongoing program of "we'll periodically spend a little money on fun running clothes to keep us regularly exercising because that's cheaper than spending a bunch of money on diabetes medication or triple-bypass surgery." As I was complaining about the cold at two miles in, she was probably still nice and toasty. It was at two miles in that we discovered Owen had kicked one of his shoes off.

This is a favorite game of his, although usually just with socks. I'll get him out of bed in the morning, and he'll be all smiles (as he usually is) as he wraps his arms around my neck, lays his head on my shoulder, and makes pleased noises. Then, as I put him down on his changing table, he rips a sock off one of his feet, waits until I notice, and then laughs uproariously. He's perfectly content to go around the rest of the day one-socked too. This is a sharp contrast from his brother, with whom we have deployed as a sort of nuclear-option disciplinary measure, the threat of taking off his socks and refusing to put them back on until he finishes his dinner, cleans up his mess, etc.

Anyhow, I got to do the majority of our running route twice yesterday, retracing our steps through the side-streets of the Laurelton neighborhood, looking for a size 4 green baby shoe lying somewhere in the road or on the sidewalk. If found it back on Hurstbourne Street, and then brought it back to smiling offender.

Owen's been having a rather rough patch, actually, if he's capable of such things. He has a mouth full of teeth coming in, and I think he still hasn't recovered from the trauma of J's absence during her Charlotte trip. He wants to be held a lot, and he hasn't been sleeping well. He knows he's close to walking but only tires himself (and everyone else out) by his continual efforts to fall down from chairs and sofas and to have his hands held, and he's putting all sorts of inappropriate objects (mostly things he finds in the bathroom when one of us leaves the door open) into his mouth. He rips books, he pulls plants down on his head, he falls down the basement steps, he attempts to stand up in the bathtub, and recently he dramatically stops in the midst of his tears, tilts his head back, and extends both arms straight in the direction of whichever adult is nearest with an expression of wounded desperation. Despite all this, he's still pretty smiley most of the time, and he makes you feel good about yourself not matter who you are or what you're doing. This goes for clerks at Wegmans just as much as his parents and brother.

James has had a pleasant few weeks, as far as we can tell. He only ever does one song and one obsession at a time, and he does them absolutely with all his focus and all his heart. The song is currently "Our God is Greater" (maybe not the actual title?) and he ranges from either humming it under his breath (while going potty, sitting at the dinner table, etc) to singing it in George's voice (while he's supposed to be napping, while Owen is supposed to be napping) to begging and pleading for it tearfully in the car if anyone should dare turn on another song, to shouting it at the top of his lungs in the stroller as we run through the neighborhood. His current professional ambition is to be a plumber. I support him in this decision 100%, and think he should start it on his training right away. He saw an episode of Curious George where George clogged up some pipes by putting toys down the tub drain (I've warned him REPEATEDLY that this is not something that we're going to copy) and then a plumber named Mr. Auger shows up. James really likes Mr. Auger. He carries around a toy wrench and screwdriver (and George and Steven, of course) with him wherever he goes now, and he routinely asks to go down in the basement or to get into the bathroom cabinet so he can "work on the pipes." He also, for reasons unknown to me, has been carrying around a comb. Yesterday he came up to me without saying anything, combed my hair for a few seconds, combed Owen's hair, ran it once through his own (the wrong way) then went back without any explanation to working on the pipes again.

Most delightfully, James has started to figure out reading on his own. He's still happy to have books read to him, but he is increasingly comfortable curling up in a chair on his own with a big stack of books and George. He'll either whisper the books to George, or just thumb through on his own and look at the pictures. (I don't THINK he's reading any words yet, but he does show some signs of recognizing what's going on.) He makes "nests" out of blankets, and is content to be on his own for 45 minutes...an hour...all afternoon. I'd love to curl up next to him some evening and just read side-by-side for as long as he'll let me. (Usually Owen prohibits this.) But I couldn't be more proud.

I've been worried, as I think about them, about my brothers. The biggest difference between this year and all the years previous, in our house, has been the relaxed work week for me. I'm in a fairly busy patch now, but not trying to do Hochstein or Houghton or Lima on top of all the trumpet playing has meant that I actually SEE the boys every day. Every week there are at least a couple days when I'm home all day, and I see way more of J in the evenings. There's no doubt about it--everyone is happier and healthier. We always made it work, and we could make a busier schedule work again if we needed to. But I'm no longer staying up past midnight trying to send emails about rearranged lessons or finding substitutes. I'm no longer rushing down to Lima to teach a half day before rushing off to a rehearsal, and then cramming make up lessons into the evening. I feel like, at age 30, I may have finished paying some of my "dues."

But none of my brothers are done paying theirs. Lux is student teaching, which is the ultimate paying of dues. (All of the work, none of the salary.) He and Melissa are trying to get a wedding planned. It sounds like he's constantly sick. Calvus and Beka have a new baby (and an old baby) at home, and are potentially rearranging their working lives again. Pax is a new homeowner, working full time, and doing grad school homework when he should be going to bed. M is in the glorious but exhausting rush of the undergraduate years, and must spend every minute of her time reading. I've hardly seen Sam in the past months, and I don't think Mom and Dad are exactly lounging about either.

So that's why my wish for this Halloween, if I could make just one wish, is that the Great Pumpkin would bring an extra hour of sleep to all the young parents, would shorten the commutes of all those driving about the state, would strengthen the coffee, flavor the leftovers, comfort the sore feet, and extend Sunday evening of everyone in my family.

Owen is getting big enough to say prayers at night, and it's good to say once more per evening:
Tonight we pray for Mommy and Daddy, and James and Owen. We pray for Nama and Papa, for Sam, Kaitlyn, Kristen, Hayden, Liam, and baby Korina. We pray for Uncle Oliver and Aunt Kylie, and for Abby. We pray for Uncle Calvin and Aunt Beka, and Silas and baby Roland. And we pray for Uncle Lucas, and for Aunt Melissa, and for Aunt Martha. We pray for Grandma Davis, and for Grandpa Davis, and for Uncle Dan and Aunt Emmy, and for Uncle Tim.