Merry February! It seems like we always say this, but last month flew by. The first few weeks were dominated by sickness. All the people left after Christmas and New Years', but some little microscopic guests stayed to haunt us.
January was a month of adjustment. Greg started a new semester. We are delighted that he doesn't have any evening classes this time! Hinckley went back to being the only child in the house. It was hard on him and he insisted on having someone to watch him play at all times. He still goes around the house saying, "Annie," "Cake," or "Oww." We've realized that these names are not always specific to specific cousins, but apply to all of them; sixteen cousins is a lot to remember when you are only 1.5.
The best adjustment has definitely been nursery. Sundays have suddenly become a day of rest and tranquility again. Hinckley gets really excited by the idea of nursery, but when he actually gets there he has moments of sadness when he remembers his mom is not with him. Luckily, his leaders are great and he is kept distracted from this homesickness. His parents thoroughly enjoy dropping him off at nursery for two hours. They also enjoy the two hours of nap after church. After a rough spell, Sunday truly is the best day again.
The worst adjustment has been the disappearance of Hinckley's beloved "bobble." It didn't really disappear as much as we cut him off from it. His dependence on the bottle was more emotional than anything and he was getting old enough to let it go. After some research, we decided to go cold-turkey. Anecdotal accounts suggested that it would take about 3-5 days for him to get used to the sippy cup and forget about the bottle. This was not the case. He started waking up at night again(even though he never had a bottle at night). He refused to drink milk at all. And there were many temper tantrums the likes of which will probably cause early hearing loss for us. Nevertheless, we prevailed and did not give in. After two weeks, he started calling his sippy cup his "bobble" and a new way was forged.
On the good side, we have had so many moments of simple happiness. Hinckley started giving "eskimo kisses." He also has a slight obsession with airplanes, helicopters, and the moon; whenever we are outside he is trying to spot one or he thinks he hears one (that would be pretty remarkable if he heard the moon, wouldn't it?). He also has a knack for pointing out "broke" things and goes around the house spotting little cracks and problems. He enjoys "tote" with "hunny" (toast with honey) for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or anytime he is bored and just wants something to eat. He hates having his diaper changed and tries to run away when it is mentioned. We have a lot of fun together!
I can't believe it has only been two months since Hinckley joined our family! It feels like a lot longer than that and he is growing so big way too fast! At his two month check-up today, he weighed 13 lb 12 oz and was 26 1/4 inches long. Apparently he is so tall that he is off the medical charts for his age. Hinckley is such a happy, easy-going baby. He smiles, laughs, and coos a lot. Having him in our family is so fun because he helps us realize the joy of everything once again. He smiles at bright colors or new sounds, enjoys kisses and cuddling, and squeals in delight at seeing nature when we take walks. Yesterday at church it was like he had a rubber neck; for about five minutes he just kept turning back and forth to take it all in--the sights, sounds, and smells. Today he had to get three shots at the doctor's office and even that didn't phase him for long. Oh he screamed and his face got redder than I have ever seen it. I held him and fed him afterwards and then ...
The final product of "make me a match" that I labored over exceedingly. I was actually sort of unhappy with it all not because of the performances of anyone but mainly just the story. We had to write all so quickly and the re-write it time after time and then storyboard it and really break it down. In all this rush I didn't realize till I was actually shooting it that I really didn't care much for the story as a whole and thus my motivation suffered greatly. I don't think I need to tell epic dramatic tales to care about them but I do want to have a strong point and also a specific conflict or issue that is approached and resolved. I am starting a screen writing class tomorrow and possibly I will gain some insights as to how to develop good stories. Ones that I care about. I don't know why I feel so interested in telling stories - particularly in that I haven't felt very confident with the stories I have come up with. It is extremely hard for me to come up ...
It is that time of day when the house is quiet, the table is half covered in pots, pans, and tuber ware with food scattered across. The car isn’t in the garage and the dog lies sleeping on the blue blanket. The sun lies somewhere back there, behind the cloud over those mountains. It makes some nice gold colors on the rocky face of the mountains outside of the window. I guess it is so nice because at this time of year there is a lot of plants and flowers in the back yard so the gold makes it seem sort of dreamlike. Yeah, I’ll do em I guess. Call it being nice or being bored. Does it matter? Approaching the sink I am nipped by the denting smell. The eggshells, scraps of mango, carrot peel, and chunks of tofu drip in my fingers. Oh yes, the trash is under the sink these days. Drip once, drip twice on the floor. The water in the frying pan trembles, shaking the crusty flakes of burnt egg. Yogurt and peanu...
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