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Friday, June 1, 2012

The First Day of Summer.

According to the calendar, summer hasn't begun yet. But today was the first day of my two quiet months with my love and my little love.

I've just turned my calendar to June. The page shows a young woman with white hair beneath a branch of glittery cherry blossoms. "Love who you are." The Summer To Do List I posted yesterday should help me do that.

Last night, the three of us went to dinner with my dad who was returning from business in Raleigh. We met at Carrabbas since I was craving Italian food. The server described the specials as if she were reciting a poem she had effortlessly memorized. She brought warm bread and oil. I had a crisp Caesar salad--something I could probably eat daily. We talked about movies (particularly Eagle versus Shark, an incredibly quirky but sweetly sad romance, and the upcoming Les Miserables musical movie), TV shows, and my work. A runner brought out our food and tried to give me Josh's salad (topped with grilled eggplant) and Dad's lasagna before accepting that the pizza with Italian sausage was mine. Pizza at an Italian restaurant is an incomparable Italian experience. Oliver chewed happily on a menu and gazed and smiled at a baby at the next table.

Dessert seemed appropriate, so we ordered lemon bread pudding and some miracle of brownie, chocolate mousse, whipped cream, and vanilla ice cream. The latter concoction was a wonder--not overwhelming or heavy like many desserts. I do think, by the way, that chocolate mousse may be the most perfect dessert. I held Oliver in my lap and gave him little tastes of plain vanilla ice cream from my fingertip. He looked a little surprised and stuck his tongue out each time and then watched our forks on the dessert plate. I hope that he will be a boy and a man who will appreciate the simple, quiet glee of plain vanilla ice cream.

Having come from a business meeting, my dad was wearing a tie and dressy shoes, pants, and shirt (the sort that literally shine. I'm not sure what that's called in menswear. At The Limited, it would be "sateen."). I felt calm and cheerful immediately. I mentioned that to Josh as we were driving home, and he said, "That's probably because he often looked that way when you were young. For a long time, I saw my dad in a suit and tie so much that that was just what he looked like to me."

But I meant to write about today. Oliver got upset at some point in the early morning, and Josh brought him into our room. When Oliver woke again around seven, Josh fed him breakfast and made banana walnut chocolate chip muffins. He brought them in on pretty little dessert plates. Those muffins are delicious and also have sweet associations for me since I began making them for us at the original OLC when I was pregnant with Oliver.

We napped together briefly, and then, Josh took Oliver to the living room to play so that I could rest more. That kindness helped me sink into a two-hour nap. I must have needed that rest. And when I woke up to a hungry baby, Josh had made egg salad, remembering my other recent craving. We had egg salad sandwiches and pretzels for lunch. The saltiness of the pretzels complements the egg.

Oliver and I sat by the sliding glass door. He looked out at the world while I read or looked at a magazine. We also spent time on the big floral couch, he sleeping across my stomach or sitting on my stomach, facing me as I leaned back against pillows and read to him from Little Lord Fauntleroy. For a long while, he was content to listen. Actually, when I opened the book and began reading, he grinned at me.

Josh blew bubbles. We got some strong bubbles that can bounce and roll on the floor before they pop in a happy little spray. I love the way they turn pink or purple or blue no matter where one blows them.

A sudden downpour surprised us. Rain blew in waves on the roof of an apartment building across the pond. Two male geese who were flanking three or four maturing goslings were also surprised in the center of the pond. One began to lead the goslings to the bank and then quickly reconsidered, guiding them back to the center. They remained perfectly still and waited. When the rain stopped just as suddenly as it had begun, I looked again, and they were gone.

In the evening, I felt myself getting a little down, restless, and irritable. I said, "I need to go outside." So we sat on the balcony, and I wrote in my journal a little. Two geese flew in slow circles over the pond. I felt better, cleaned and freshened.

Oliver fell asleep quickly. I treasure our bedtime ritual: I lie on my side and nurse him with my arm under him. This way, if I fall asleep, he can't easily roll away. If I'm still awake when he falls asleep, I can just hold him and gaze at his peaceful little face and long eyelashes before Josh takes him to his room and crib. Oliver is usually very busy and energetic, so this snuggle time is dear. I think it's also an important connection for him; even if I've been away at work, he can relax into that time with me. 

This has been a good day. Oliver, who has been having a terrible time with teething, has been happy. I organized the bathroom cabinet--one goal finished! Oliver has begun saying, "Mama" but won't say it in front of me. When I prompt him, he smiles shyly. Josh set up the video camera behind Oliver one day right after I left for work, and Oliver watched the door and called for me. I've watched it many times even though it's as sad as it is sweet. I did hear him say it last night when I was behind him, and he didn't know I was there. I hope that I'll soon be able to see his face as he says it. Tomorrow, I'll start the routine of spending four hours at the library twice a week, planning or grading for my summer classes.

Josh is asleep beside me, curled against my hip. I ate an orange and some walnuts before he fell asleep, and he said, "Mmm. Oranges smell really good." He's noticing. I think he's feeling the benevolence of summer too, even as he bemoans the heat. Earlier this evening, he said, "You're satisfied with who you are, and that's really sexy." I hope that I will be even more satisfied with who I am, that I will love who I am, by the end of the summer, after so much noticing and treasuring.

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