Not much blogging these days--not for shortage of bloggable episodes, more because of competing interests (such as laundry, knitting, and sleep).
Just a quick one, then, so you don't give up on me entirely:
Yesterday I was sitting on the living room floor watching Iyyar and Barak play, and contemplating how big Iyyar is getting. I felt the need for some cuddles. "Iyyar, can I have a kiss please?" He obligingly came over and gave me some kisses, then consented to sit in my lap and get squeezed for a minute or two before running off to play again. As he got up, he turned around to check that my need had been satisfied. Head solicitously forward, eyebrows up: "You happy now?" (It sounds kind of... accusatory, but it was actually very sweet. He really did want to be sure that I was in fact happy.) I assured him that I was, and away he went.
An hour or so later, now in the kids' room, I was again sitting on the floor, wiped out after a particularly athletic Avtalyon diaper change (that baby is SO STRONG, it's not normal). Iyyar came over with a bulldozer and started explaining to me that he needed a straw, I think to use for the bulldozer's exhaust pipe.
"I don't have a straw right now."
"Yeah! Do have a straw!"
"No, I don't. See?" I held up my empty hands.
"Have a straw inna kitchen!"
"I know, but I don't want to get up and go into the kitchen right now. I'm tired."
"No! Not tired!"
"I am too tired."
"You not tired. You just happy."
"I'm happy, but I'm also tired."
"No! I give you kisses. Now you happy. Not tired. Just happy!"
I didn't quite realize it was supposed to work like that.
In other news, the local utility company is doing a ton of work near Iyyar's playgroup, putting in streetlights and I don't know what else. Iyyar loves this and always wants to watch. "Wanna watch it worker man!" Avtalyon is surprisingly okay with this--back when it was Barak who wanted to watch, Iyyar would always flip out eventually and we'd have to move on. Now, the limiting factor to watching length is how long it takes my feet to start hurting. Sometimes we're there for an hour or more, to the amusement of the worker men.
Avtalyon's favorite activity right now is emptying the bookshelves of all the books, so that he can sit on the floor and peruse them all at his convenience; Barak seems to get taller and skinnier by the day, and now loves to whisper "secrets" into Iyyar's ears. Sometimes I overhear him. "Iyyar! Poopy pop! It's a secret! Don't tell anybody, 'kay!"
He hasn't yet.
1 comment:
I have so much to say about this post. And if I wait to organize my thoughts, I'll never get around to writing it...
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