See, this is what happens:
I stop blogging for a week, because my parents are here, and there are so many things to do besides recording my thoughts. Important things, like sitting on the couch under an afghan while my mother serves me grilled cheese. I mean, really. Who would give that up just for a moment to blog?
And then they leave, and I realize that, in fact, a million thoughts have been collecting in a jumbled pile in my brain, and while I’m certainly not short on things to say, I am totally stuck with where and how to begin.
So you see my dilemma.
On the lighter side, my thoughts run like this:
I wonder if my landlord would let us paint if we sign the lease for another year. I know he likes us, and I can tell he’s thrilled to have a family living in his house, and not just an odd bunch of Standford students. So maybe, just maybe, he’d be okay with a bit of taupe, maybe some butter yellow, and of course (it goes without saying) green (like my mom’s
dining room sitting room.)
Because it occurs to me that I’ve lived the last three years of my life surrounded by white walls. That must be grounds for legal insanity.
On the thankful side:
I can’t believe how wonderfully blessed I am by my parents. (And I don’t just mean the grilled cheese sandwiches.) They are amazing. They’re not perfect, but goodness, does it get any closer?
We all were crying when we parted ways at the airport’s curb. But you know what? Even as the tears were flowing, and I was feeling so incredibly sad, I was overcome with thankfulness. We cry. Because we love each other. Do all grown, adult, married children have their parents visit for a week — and wish with all their hearts it could be a month? And not just me, but Ryan, too? Do all parents settle right in, cooking dinner, working on house projects, sharing their hearts, giving counsel?
Of course the answer is no, that’s not the case for everyone.
And so sad as I am every time we say goodbye, I am so grateful for those tears.
On the mama side:
My little man is growing up. He really is. There’s all of this thought and talk about weaning and sleeping a few more hours in his own bed at night, and while I know we’re ready for all of that, I can’t believe he’s so old. Yesterday I woke him from a sound nap and put him in the car, and he was a bit grumpy with me for doing so. And I was like, “Wow. He’s a person. He’s grumpy.”
When did all of that happen?
Wasn’t it just yesterday I was snuggling him in a receiving blanket on our back porch, enjoying the fresh October breeze, and crying over how small he was, and how inevitable his growth would be? When did he go from needing to be held all day, to only needing me when his finger is caught in the cupboard or his cup is empty?
He says my name sometimes in his sleep, clear as a bell.
I want to remember that.
On the daily side:
My father-in-law and his wife are arriving tomorrow for a very quick visit. I’ve been wiped out since my parents left, and consequently, I awoke today to a daunting number of tasks. Well, only daunting to an exhausted, emotional person. But still.
I’ve still got a couple of items on the list without that proud line slashed through them, but I got a lot done. And hey, the day’s not over. At least, not on the west coast.
So I feel thankful for this clean house, too.
Yay for hearing from you :-) It’s so great you (both!) have such an awesome relationship with your parents!
When you say Jameson says your name in his sleep, do you mean “mama” or “Danica” ? I’m curious :-)
When our kids play house they refer to each other as Jake and Katie :-D
a comment on my blog from D.
how very nice….
“He says my name sometimes in his sleep, clear as a bell.”
this could be the fist line of a terrific poem/lyric.
go to it, I say.
Hi Danica :) What a lovely post! I am so glad that your visit was a good one, and I love that you have such time with your parents and cherish it/them so. It’s a blessing to read – truly – it’s like a hug.
These words…”He says my name sometimes in his sleep, clear as a bell. I want to remember that.” Oh my heart! My Mr S does that, too :)
Praying as you prepare for your f-i-l’s visit…
Love you, Q
So good to hear from you again! I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’ve seen the new BBC Sense and Sensibility… Elinor reminds me of you… there is something about her features that brings you to mind.
White walls- 7yrs straight. I need a year of Jubilee, ya’ think? I’ve been “dying” to paint since we became “home owners” in 2005. Since we’ve always planned to sell, hubby would say, “No painting! Everyone likes white walls, but not everyone likes red/blue/brown/yellow… etc). And he was right! Since we’re getting ready to sell, the realtor said white walls do better for potential buyers because it provides them with a clean pallet… nice a neutral. UGH! I can’t wait to really “own” my home so I can put up that gold jaquard wallpaper, red accent wall, and green dining room! :-)
But for an apt! Yep! If you can paint it, WOO WOO!
I didn’t know you were near Stanford! We have some terrific friends there right now who are just a bit younger than Ryan’s age. They have four children. You’d love ’em!
@Katie – my kids are Daniel and Brietta when they play house. It’s especially funny when Gabriel will talk in a “low” voice and say, “Hey, honey, we have to get the kids in the car.” Cracks me up!
@Danica – yes, try to paint! It’s so fun! If you want a really light yellow-ish color, I highly recommend the color I just painted my bedroom. It’s not really yellow at all, but it somehow has that warmth without being too lemon-y. Anyway. I hope you get permission.
@ Katie: He says Mom. If he yelled “Danica!” in his sleep, I would bust out laughing, for sure.
How wonderful! “On the mama side” brought tears to my eyes. Precious! I love it. We love you and miss you and your family TONS!