Seamus, from two to two and a half, at 5,000 feet

Hi there, you look great. Working out much? Of course it’s never as much as you’d like, we all get busy. Yeah, that’s the new hair color, I was feeling washed out living in the cloud cover with ashy hair. Yes, it’s dark, but it matches my eyebrows. Kinda.

Anyway.

Seamus had RSV last month, which my friend G and I call Really Shitty Virus. We ended up swapping it among our families, and feeling laid out for ten days per person. This week he brought home croup, which fooled me into thinking he had some 24-hour bug before his coughing started up after bedtime on the second night, meaning I sent him in to school with croup because he had no fever in the morning. Filed under “oh, fuck, I’m sorry, really I am”. Aside from the school snafu, I did a pretty good job keeping him from other kids, and came down with a virus last night/this morning. Seamus is feeling better and perfectly happy to take advantage of his exhausted and feverish mama by requesting viewings of “WALL-E” and “My Neighbor Totoro”. And popsicles. Now that’ve got an inkling as to the state of his throat, I’m happy I let him have popsicles at will this week. Okay, not happy, but less stricken with bad-parent guilt.

I’ve thought a lot about the last six months, and how Seamus is just kind of magnificent. He’s so curious and friendly with strangers, and sweet to his friends. Our living in the semi-suburbs has paid off in that he’s fascinated with insects and plants, birds and animals. We spend more time goofing off in green spaces than in playgrounds, which suits his “hey, look at THAT” approach to his environment. I showed him how to use my sewing maching today. I popped him onto my lap and after threading the machine and loading the bobbin I showed him how to guide fabric across the dogs while the needle tattooed various stitched along a scrap. I took him to the King Tut exhibit last week, which went poorly, but he liked the galleries full of carved wooden fetishes and what not from the permanent collections. He’s become a better bicycle passenger since we switched to the mule, and while I think the concept of weather is still abstract, he understands sun, wind, rain, clouds, and hail. He’s made his first movie, exploring Bandit’s under-bed lair.

He’s no cherub. He’s still stubborn and impossible to re-direct, which means we’re now teaching him coping mechanisms for when things don’t go according to his grand design. He pushes buttons and tests limits like every two year-old I know, and he still throws his things around despite being stopped and corrected by picking up the thrown items. He’s still in motion, which often makes me wonder if he’ll ever settle down long enough to be shown anything, until I remember that I’ve made dinner with him on my back several times recently, and that he was watchful each time. He still nurses, but lately nursing has not induced his nap. This surprises me, since I figured that the naptime session whould be the last to go. Once I’m well I’ll be pulling the stroller out and making that his permanent nap place, so I can get some regular exercise.

Argh, squarespace keeps dropping me when I try to save. Anyways, while I wrote this post, Shea counted cars, sang along to the Totoro song, got himself a smoothie from the fridge and spilled it on himself, and piled onto me to offer kisses. He said everything I meant to say, but precisely.