I am regularly full of brilliant ideas to write about. Stupidly, the majority of them hit me while I am physically attached to a child and therefore unable to do anything with my hands besides play my turn on Scramble. (This is also why I haven’t won against my sister Erica in the last nine rounds.)
Then I got an infection in my right thumbnail. Here’s a fun challenge: try typing for an entire day and only hitting the spacebar with the the thumb you never use. Actually, just do it for fifteen minutes. You’ll get the gist.
Between Epsom salt soaks, garlic water soaks, doc appointments, a round of antibiotics pumping through me and a baby (which, if you know anything about antibiotics and digestion you will understand when I say that these had the opposite of the usual affect on Isaiah), and now, ointment, understandably, I’ve been absent.
But life is happening. More specifically, life with a three year old is happening, and it is exactly as awesome as it was three years ago when Eliott was this age. So I have stories and I have ideas.
And now they’ve dwindled down to snippets. (And I also have some videos, which were an afterthought and nowhere near as good as the originals, but I’ll post them anyway.)
If you’ve never read the chapter in Me Talk Pretty One Day about the meaning of Easter in French class, stop now and go get the book. I had a brief reminder of it this week when Carter came home from school on Monday and gave David Sedaris a run for his money. The one part that stuck out was about the rabbits in jail. The rabbits. “…and he let the rabbits out of jail and put Jesus in jail…” And of course this was not clicking for me. Thinking she was confusing parts of the story for the Easter bunny, I asked, “The rabbits?” enough times that she grew frustrated with my lack of understanding for what was clearly a very simple story. Finally, she put up her fist and half-shouted, “You know. THE RABBITS! THE RABBITS!”
Then, an email from Carter’s teacher:
I’ve been wanting to share this forever…so for the LONGEST time we had been praying for her cat because it was really sick and you were taking it to the vet etc. and the cat got better but was still sick etc… and then when we had tea with Teddy she said she was going to bring her cat instead of a bear…so I said your cat? Yeah and she was talking about it like it was her real cat (so I thought) and so I caught on and I asked her…have we been praying all this time for your stuffed cat? She said, “Well I don’t have a real cat.”
Obviously. My quick response:
If it makes you feel better, there was a short stint during this cat-illness story where her kitty died. You can imagine how fun that one was to explain to stricken strangers in the grocery store lines choking out awkward condolences to this three year old whose mother didn’t seem to care about the dead cat.
And along the theme of prayer, yesterday in the car:
Mommy, I have diarrhea. So you need to pray for me.
Oh. Okay. We can pray for your diarrhea…
…Wait. Right now?
Later, at dinner:
Dear God, thank you for all the fun we had today, thank you for this food, thank you for Mommy and Daddy and Baby Isaiah and my diarrhea…
…and my sister. Amen.
Well, we know where Eliott stands.
And finally, for no reason, a conversation I had with a friend who works at 6th and Vine, sparked by Eliott’s acute understanding of figures of speech:
Molly: Here’s one thing that people at my tables will say all. the. time. And of course I go ahead and correct them, every single time, because I really don’t care if they like me. I just love it when people say “Literally, this house was a mansion. No, no, literally. It was the biggest house I’ve ever seen in my entire life…I mean, like, literally. I am as hungry as a horse. No. Literally.” And so I say, “Well, not actually literally. More like figuratively, right?”
Me (trying to share the experience I’ve never had): Yeah. Yeah, right, like, “Literally, it was so hot yesterday it felt like the sun was on fire.”
Molly (trying a little too hard to suppress sarcasm): Well actually, that one works. You know, because of science.