And here I am supposed to write in a focused manner, since I am supposed to be aware of my audience.
It is April (obviously) (but also obviously, I am writing for myself today, so that my stream of consciousness requires definitions like *what today is*); it is mostly spring, after a winter so crazy that one of my babysitters will be in school this, her junior, year until June 22 or so. It would have been later, but her spring break got cut short. She doesn’t mind. Spring: I have had the lawn aerated and over-seeded with great hopes for grass in the spots where there is only dirt; since then, some of the grass that was already there is TALL. There are patches of dirt or sand or mud and other patches of green prairie in my backyard. A nice average is what I’m hoping for, not for its aesthetics, but (again with the hopes) for the keeping of the dirt and sand and mud OUTSIDE where it belongs. I get that dogs and children get dirty outside, but (again!) I hope that this year they’ll have to work a little harder for it.
C is 18 months old. He had his checkup today. He’s fine. His growth charts curve just as they’re supposed to, he loves pushing buttons like the up-down elevator buttons, he eats all kinds of foods like fruits and veggies and meat and whole milk, and he can point out the banana on the chair (as opposed to the Elmo car) when prompted. I was surprised to be asked by the doctor about any potty training we’d attempted yet. What?? Everything I’ve read has suggested that doctors recommend this at much closer to THREE. Sigh.
I took Flat “Stanley” with us to Walter Reed. It’s where the President goes to see the doctor, so I thought it’d be cool.
I am accomplishing what feels like very, very little while my husband works seven or eight time zones away.
As it is now obvious even to me, I am not particularly focused right now. (Reference the quick changes in subject matters above.) I did manage to get the taxes done. I hope I did them right. (So much hope!) A couple of days ago, as I changed the sheets to C’s crib, I finally removed the motion sensor that’s been under his mattress since he came home from the hospital, though not plugged in for the last several months. Every time I’ve changed his sheets, it’s been there. It’s a rectangular spring-y thing of about 7 by 9 inches, sensitive enough to notice if the infant on the mattress above stops breathing. We relied on it especially because C is a tummy sleeper. When I picked it up to finally put it away in the closet of things-that-we-don’t-use-now-but-we-could-again, I discovered that I’d placed the thing upside down. Like a microwave packet of rice or popcorn, it has written on it a message, “This side up.” But it doesn’t say the opposite on the opposite side. I wasn’t even sleep-deprived yet when I put that thing in there in 2012. If I didn’t even *notice* directions to follow on this device then, how can I possibly think I’ve just filed our taxes correctly?
The End without Closure