Swiftly, sadly, sweetly

Nobody warned me that baby #2 would grow twice as fast as #1. With Munch, I lamented the passing of every phase, but deferred my feelings as I anticipated having a second child. This time, as the phases pass, I must take my leave of them for good. And this time, the come and go so quickly that I find I can hardly breathe. Clothing, once rendered too small, is not stashed this time around. Putting each tiny romper or onsie into its appropriate departure bag is almost physically painful, as my mind flashes to the photos I have taken of each of my sons in that particular outfit. There will be no more do-overs.

I miss already the look of wonder in newborn Nugget's eyes, as it is replaced with recognition, observation, interaction. I delight in his new mobility just as I mourn the passing of that utter helplessness that first bonds parent and child. No more do-overs, I remind myself.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the universe, Griffin charges along on his own timeline. His ability to comprehend abstract concepts and articulate his view of the world amazes and delights me every day. His sophisticated ability to read me and play me to meet his own needs drives me to the very brink of desperation on a regular basis.

Two Shoe Stories

This week at school: No shoes at the end of the day (of course).
"Griffin, where are your shoes?"
"I don't know. I think they are lost"
"Where did you lose them?"
"I don't know."
"Where were they when they were lost?"
"Well, they used to be on my feet."

This week at Nordstrom Rack: Griffin wants new Crocs. I ask him to try them on to see if they fit. The imitation Crocs are connected together by a plastic tie.
"Do they fit"
"Oh! They do fit..." Griffin puts both sandals on, "but I can only hop." (proceeds to hop around store.)