As I was making lunch today, I heard Simon singing a song. The words were pretty simple, “Clara and her brother, Clara and her brother, Clara and her brother.” I peeked into the living room just as Ian was adding his “harmony”: “Dara and he bru-vah, Dara and he bru-vah, Dara and he bru-vah.” Ian’s part also had that sweet toddler vibrato and Doppler effect that comes from running and singing at the same time.
They’ve moved on. Clara’s down for a nap, and the boys are tigers eating their rice balls, which they are pretending are meat. Their sweet song, though, is a little bit stuck in my head and forever stuck in my heart.
Yesterday—which happened to be my 39th birthday—brought a handful of firsts (in chronological order):
* Clara’s first tooth. She’s been working on it for weeks now, but it’s finally visible for sure.
* the first time Ian sat in the big boy swings without help. He gave very clear instructions for being pushed: “Higher! Higher! Higher! Enough!”
* the first time I realized Simon can carry a tune when he tries. He likes to sing, I think, but singing in tune is hit and miss. He did a perfect (to my ear, at least) rendition of the Olympics theme song (Bahm BAHM bah buhm buhm buhm bumm ....).
* the first time Simon stopped in his whining tracks and apologized with real sorrow for behaving badly. Oh, goodness. (I suppose this is a little hard to pin down, as he has sometimes apologized unprompted and has definitely apologized with sincerity, but something about this one seemed particularly mature.)
* the first time Ian said, “I love you, Mommy” completely unprompted and out of the blue (i.e., not in response to me saying, “I love you”). A heart melter, that one.
It seems like maybe there was one more Ian-related one earlier in the day, but I’m getting old, and my memory . . . what’s the word? . . .
Sometime soon I will try to corral my thoughts about Clara’s surgery, but for now a couple of images from yesterday.
My name is Renae, and The Grand is where I keep thoughts, observations, and photos from my life.