Tuesday, March 18, 2008

The One Where I Embarass the Heck out of My Son

My son was a Binky Baby and a Binky Boy-not giving up his Mr. Binks until he was well past 3 (and it mysteriously got "lost").

When he was really tiny, and still sleeping in our room in the 2 bedroom home we started out in, his crib was at the end of our bed. Because that was, literally, the only spot in the whole house for it. There were always a couple of pacifiers in the crib. (of course, sanitized....cough, cough, he was a newborn and all...ahem) One morning, my husband walked by on his way to the shower and looked in at him. He had his cow binky in his mouth. Cow binky because it was yellow with little black spots on the white handle...I suppose it could have been Dalmation binky but... I digress. When he returned, he looked back in and James had normal Gerber binky in his mouth. Somehow our little itty bitty brand new baby had switched binks...



Well, anyway, we thought it was cute and funny and genuis like at the time...

***awkward pause***

When he got older he would take the flippy handle of his binky and push it up underneath his nose. It always had to be this way. If you flipped it down (which I never did because that is mean and no way would I do that to my child...) he would immediately flip it back up and I...I mean another person...would laugh, and do it again. In later years reading here will probably give him some sense of why he is the way he is. He would smile with Binks in his mouth and you could only tell he was smiling because of his marvelous, daddylike dimples.

When he began to speak, it was to holler for "BINT!!!!!!" and then "BINK!!!!!!" and finally, "MR. BINKS!!!!!!"

The other amazing (or maybe not) thing was that you could hear him sucking on his binky from the living room at night when he was asleep in his crib. It was that roof of the mouth suctiony "Cuk, cuk, cuk" noise. This is actually the reason for this post. Last night, sleeping on the pullout with me (which he does not do and I am just making this up if you are one of the 9 year olds from his class reading this), I noticed that he still does that. He still sucks on an imaginary Mr. Binks...It brought tears to my eyes to hear that sound. I knew this on some level, because I often hear that "Cuk, cuk, cuk" coming from his room at night, but laying in bed watching his little mouth just made me bittersweet for my baby boy.

If he asks, I did not just tell you this.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Weekend over

Another one over. Sunday is truly the toughest day. I need to get a hobby. I used to have hobbies but none of them (scrapbooking, reading etc) appeal to me now. Scrapbooking includes looking at pictures that I'm not ready to. Everytime I pick up a book my mind doesn't focus on it. I did manage to read "Rhett Butler's People" and retain most of it but all I have read since I couldn't tell you about. I have actually sent books along the wire, and then not been able to recall the story line when the sendee brings up the book.

Right now my hobby includes sitting in Krandall, one leg hooked over the side and staring at the television. You would not believe the weight I have lost with this new hobby. I would be come a world traveler, if I could afford it. That first day of the "running away" is almost a bit exciting. We are taking off to visit my aunt and uncle in San Antonio (different people, last time it was Houston) at the end of March. And then Los Angeles in July ( I dread that one...), and maybe Disney in September. Of course I say these things and then change my mind.

I have found that I might need to stop appraising altogether. The market is horrible here and I cannot bring myself to appraise people's broken dreams (i.e. foreclosures). These are not huge, overbought homes (well, some are but not most) they are little slices of dreams lost...and I can't do it. We had one where the owner had died by suicide in the back bedroom and I could not make myself go there. It caused quite a bit of trouble with the bank but I can't and I won't. Plus, the appraisal business was a business we started together. The sparkle in my husband's eye when things really started moving. The increased financial abilities (read: savings)...all of it our plans. So, I think I will just take some time off. I still type for an older mentor of mine but that's about all I can take.

I also find myself wondering what to do about Michigan. This was his state. I hated it when I moved here at 12. I grew to love it as his girl and then, later, his wife. It is his stomping grounds and not mine. And I sometimes think I would be better off getting far, far away. Good for me...Good for the family that can't fix it for me. In a nutshell, unsettled. So unsettled that I (yes I) have thought of getting a small tattoo. Anyone who knows me IRL would be stunned, flabergasted even, by that idea. Just a small one, his signature, over my heart. Maybe someday but I don't think I am stable enough to go ahead with something so permanent at this time. Plus, he hated tattoos so it wouldn't really be a memorial, it would almost be a spit at...

Tessie once said that she sometimes starts a blog entry with nothing to write about... That's what this one was. Thanks for coming along for the ride.