Today, I told Josh, "I want to really live here."
I've often felt that we haven't really lived in and experienced our homes and towns. We would let work and tiredness overtake us. In Monroe, we did walk to the library a few times and enjoy walks around the historic homes. We bought a Romeo and Juliet drawing at an antique store, rented our duplex from a local lawyer who who wore bow ties and wingtip shoes, and went to the local alternations shop to hem our work pants. But we never went to the Blessings or Blue Moon Cafe or spent an evening at the coffee shop within walking distance. In most of our homes, we've only frequently used a couple of the rooms.
Now that Oliver is bigger and sturdier, we're not so worried about the cats, and we spend most of our time in the living room. I sit in the big green armchair that was in the beach house in which Josh did some of his growing up. This stage of motherhood is often stationery: nursing, preparing to nurse or holding a baby who has passed out after nursing.
Last night, we went for a walk, got the mail, and inspected the playground. I stared at the structure, thinking about how much easier climbing it seemed when I was smaller. But I climbed it, and Josh passed Oliver up to me so that Oliver could go down a yellow slide for the first time. He was a bit bewildered that first time, so I slid alone a few times while he watched and got used to the idea. He liked it after that, and Josh slid with him too. After our walk, we sat on the balcony until the world turned lavender gray. I had brought my book, but I just stared at everything. We watched turtles periscoping with their funny heads. Two heads popped up next to each other, and the turtles' shells bobbed on the surface. I'm wild about watching those turtles. Josh and I intended to stay up, but we both fell dead asleep with Oliver. Oliver never did make it to his crib.
This morning, we slept until 8:30, and Josh took Oliver to the dining room for his breakfast. The blankets were so warm, and I was so comfortable, suspending in that cozy space between dreaming and waking. I looked around the room. Josh is so kind to give me that extra rest time.
Not long later, we all napped together as Oliver was sleepy again. Then, we cleaned up and went to the indoor pool. Oliver began kicking and splashing the moment he was in the water. I thought about how lucky we are to have a pool; a pond with geese, ducks, and turtles, walking space; and a playground right here. With all the water, though, we'll have to make sure Oliver learns to swim early.
We washed the chlorine off Oliver in the shower. He laughed. Josh had mentioned that his mother used to take him and his sister to Taco Bell after swimming lessons, so we had Taco Bell for lunch. Oliver ate his first meat: pureed turkey.
We got ready and dressed Oliver in overalls and his
Newsies hat and walked the five minutes to the library. We found the poetry section. I counted only five poetry books there that I had read. We rounded a series of glass walls and found the children's section, where we took turns reading several board books to Oliver. Before we left, Josh got our library cards, and I checked out Ishaguro's
Nocturnes even though
Forever by Pete Hamill is taking me
forever to read (it's good, though). I want to become more well-read in short stories this summer, and
Never Let Me Go is one of my favorite books, so I was excited to see
Nocturnes.
We took a short walk back in our complex. I wanted to see where the pond leads. We found a shallow, rocky overflow. I saw a female duck floating languidly. Josh said, "Look! She has babies!" I didn't see them at first. Then, I saw two. The mama duck turned, and I saw five: three brown ducklings and two yellow. Josh clambered quietly over the rocks to get a photo, but the mama duck led her babies away. We've often called Oliver our duckling or baby duck.
Josh made burgers (veggie for him and turkey for me), and we watched
Paris at Midnight while Oliver nursed and dozed. We hadn't watched a movie in a long time. Both of us like it, especially Brody's Dali and rhinoceros talk. I fed Oliver mixed vegetables and apples, eventually holding him in my lap with a wipe under his chin since the high chair, bouncer, and bib were all abhorrent to him. He ate everything once I wasn't trying to constrain him.
I finished reading
The Borrowers Afloat to Josh and Oliver last week, so I continued tonight with the next book I'm reading to them:
Little Lord Fauntleroy. The sweet descriptions of Cedric make Josh and I gaze at Oliver is wonder and gratitude. I've never read the book, which is surprising since
A Little Princess and
The Secret Garden are dear to me.
Josh and I are in the living room now, listening to the static over the monitor. Somewhere in that distorted sound of the fan is our baby's breathing. I think we are living here. I love this city, this apartment, and this family. We are all where we belong.
