Autumn

A few evenings ago, we loaded up the Boy and drove to a nearby park.  The air was warm, with just a hint of chill in the breeze.  We all wore jackets, but Patrick and Miles probably could have been just fine without them.  As they chased each other in lopsided circles, occasionally sword fighting, or tossing a ball, I lagged behind, breathing in the perfect weather, and the beautiful autumn colors.

 And sighed again at the passing of the seasons.  I will miss these spontaneous excursions, and the breaks by the waterside.

Oh, Autumn, how bittersweet you are. . .

Help!

I have come to a startling discovery:

Patrick and I are terrible at naming toys.  Like, ridiculously awful.  It's a miracle that Miles wound up with a decent name.  Let me give you some examples:

This:

is Bear.  This:

 is Horse.  And this:

is Pillow Pet.

We have two teddy bears named Bear, two dinosaurs named Dinosaur, two dolls named Baby, and assorted Duck, Whales, and so on.

We really suck at this whole toy-naming thing.

Training

No, not potty training.  Mommy training.  I now respond to the following commands from Miles:

• Mom-mom! Come!
• Sit!
• ABC!
• Look! Airtane!
• Mom-mom! Park!
• Walk!
• Carry.
• 'top it!
• Dance!

Yes, training is coming along nicely. 

Today

Today, I woke refreshed from a peaceful sleep.

Today, I jumped out of bed, full of energy and ambition for the day ahead.

Today, my mind is clear of the fog that sometimes invades it.

Today, my body is clear of the lethargy I often fight.

Today, I am awake.  And whole.  And happy.

And I fear that tomorrow will be different.

This is my on-going battle.

Litany of Cuteness/Awesomeness

A random list of a few of the cute/awesome things Miles has been doing:

• Saying his ABC's at random moments.  He consistently misses about five of the letters, but he is 25 months old and knows his alphabet! I'm good with teaching him that there are letters between L and P.
• Also, he recognizes every letter by sight, and will say them when he sees them.  He confuses E & F, and has trouble deciding if an N is actually a Z on its side, but again he's only 25 months old.
• He now builds towers as tall as his head with whatever blocks/toys/random objects he can find.
• Drawing and coloring, then pointing at the scribbles that look vaguely like letters and naming them.  
• Climbing on the back of his rocking horse and jumping off.  Just like the jousters at Festival.
• Randomly running into people's legs and falls over with a dramatic 'oof'.
• Looking at the person that he ran into and saying, "Stop it!"
• Stringing words together into somewhat-intelligible sentences.  For example: "Ki-ey go dunsair" [Kitty go downstairs], or "Mama, ook! Big chuk!" [Mama, look!  Big truck!]
• Sword-fighting with anyone who is armed with a wooden sword.
• Arming guests with a wooden sword the moment they enter the door. 
• Knocking on his bedroom door when he's ready for us to come get him in the morning.
• Giving overly-dramatic kisses. "Mmmmmm-waaaaaah"
• Asking for "Emmo" [Elmo] and "Uff-ee" [Buffy] with equal regularity.
• Helping carry things.
• Holding my hand at random moments (and of course when we're in parking lots, etc.).
• Asking very clearly for "can-nee" [candy].
• Rushing to see "Gampa" Maestro at the office. :)
• Roaring like a dinosaur.
• Crashing his cars/trains/random other toys together repeatedly.
• Putting his action figures on dinosaur- and elephant-back and jousting them.

Love.This.Kid.

The Power of Books

Books have always had a major impact on my life.  I honestly don't remember learning to read.  In my memory, I have always had the ability - and the absolute, physical need - to read.  Books move me in ways that little else can.  They make me think.  They transport me.  They force me to analyze the thoughts, feelings, experiences, motives of people beyond my immediate circle of friends/family.*

Beyond that, though, they remove me from the world for awhile.  They alter the way I think about things.  When I read a book about a dog with an almost-human understanding of language, I wondered for weeks whether my pets really understood more than I could imagine.  It's fascinating, and wonderful.  And sometimes, mildly frightening.

Because I really can lose myself in the world of a book.  While work beckons, and projects sit unfinished, my mind returns time and again to the world that only exists inside of the pages of my latest novel.  It consumes me, making it impossible to concentrate fully, until I finally close that back cover with a sigh of relief, knowing that the certainty of the ending will allow me, once more, to return my focus to the real things I need to do.

This pull is even stronger when the story arc is continued throughout multiple books.  If the story is particularly compelling, I can whiz through a series in a matter of days.  And when reality interferes with my quality time with that series, it is almost painful to resist the pull of the written word.

Books affect me.  And change me.  And fulfill me.  And though I feel guilty admitting it, sometimes, I know that I am not alone.

*I really need to invent a new word that means friends/family - a term that encompasses all those I love and care about that I consider family, whether they are related by blood, by marriage or by choice.  More on that later, I'm sure. . .

In case you're wondering this post was inspired by the Hunger Games series.  They really are fantastic, but a word of warning: set aside a weekend to read through them all.  Because you won't want to put them down.  Promise.

Halloween