Chasing the Clouds Away

I've mentioned Sam's sensitive disposition when it comes to TV shows. Basically the most seemingly benign incident can terrify the child.

Last week we were watching Sesame Street. I wasn't really paying attention to the show but figured we couldn't go wrong with Sesame Street. I mean, Sesame Street, right?

Wrong.

The plot had something to do with Cookie Monster visiting a cookie art exhibit. He wanted to eat the art, naturally, but had been coached in the etiquette of art galleries. At one point a guard scolded Cookie for getting too close to the Cruncha Lisa, but Cookie was compliant and backed away. Later, when Cookie decided to take another look at the beloved Cruncha Lisa, it was missing. The same guard, who had stepped away for a cookie break (what else?), accused Cookie of stealing the painting.

"Turn it off, Mom," Sam said at this point.

"Okay. Sure. Why?" I asked, turning off the TV.

"I don't want to tell you," Sam answered. And then the tears started. So many tears.

I tried for a while to talk through Sam's reaction, but he really wasn't interested in that. He also wasn't interested in seeing if things had turned out okay for Cookie Monster.

He told me he just needed to cry. And so he did.

I think there are so many good things about this story and Sam's sweet, sweet heart. The kid seems to feel as deeply about things as his mother does. I can recall many similar incidents from my own childhood. The world just made me so sad.

I'd shield Sam from this if I could. But of course I can't. But I do plan to just sit there, as I did this time, and hold him while he cries for as long as he'll let me.

Bed 2.0

One feature of the modern video baby monitor that's getting use in our house lately is the intercom. "Get in your bed, Sam," is what we usually say into it. Or, "Don't even think about it, Sam." Occasionally we remark, "Don't open that door, Sam." And we might even throw in an, "I know you can hear me, Sam."

You get the idea.

Of course nothing about this modern intercom feature keeps us from actually having to also walk up the stairs three or four times a night to put Sam back in his bed.

No. We need some sort of house robot for that.

A Reading Life

I was really inspired by Word Savvy to read more this year. She also made it pretty easy to choose books to read. So far I have read and loved both A Tale for Time Being by Ruth Ozeki and We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler. I finished the latter of these two yesterday and was completely beside myself at the end. Sobbing fairly uncontrollably, that is. I'm thinking now about reading some books that have been on my shelf for a while but that I haven't, for whatever reason, actually read--or finished anyway. Water for Elephants, maybe. Or Freedom. Or State of Wonder. These are probably all good options. Whatever I choose, I'm just so, so happy to have a reading life again. It's something I've terribly missed.

Ready for Spring

Whoa. Where did the time go since that last post? February is a blur, but you should know that since I last wrote Dave has also taken up yogurt making.

Not I, Said the Cat

This is what it's like living with Dave.

He decides that he would like to try something new. Say, bread baking. So he reads a book on the topic, watches a number of how-to videos by the same book author, and orders the necessary supplies, which arrive in boxes every third day for four weeks. Then one afternoon, he measures and kneads and waits and measures and bakes. And before you know it, you're looking at this.

And guess what. It tastes even better than it looks.

Holy Escamoly!

Phew. That's all there is to be said about this week. Just, phew.

We're moving into the weekend and everyone is looking forward to it. To celebrate, we ate some burgers and fries and onion rings at our favorite greasy burger place.

And now we're settling into the Top Chef finale.

All feels right with the world again.