Well, despite the very best intentions of our sugar-pushing Bud and Nana, we had an amazingly fun and uneventful Easter weekend in Spartanburg. The kids were funny, slept well, and good food and company abounded. If only Kim had not been bed-ridden sick for 36 hours, it would have been perfect, but it was pretty darn close.
Caroline in particular came into her own, enjoying the occasion for girly-dress-up time and charming everyone with her pleasant non-smiling gazes of affection. She is a sweetheart, and I think Bud is hooked.
'course, Nana looks pretty good when she dresses up in her Sunday finest, so Sissy may yet have some competition for who gets to share the easy chair on Easters to come.
72 hours of running, laughing, screaming Happy Jack are more than the normal animal can stand without repeatedly breaking into a grin. Even if it was induced by continual application of chocolate bunnies and plastic eggs full of jelly bellies, he was a blast to be with.
I got the first real extended taste of a boy with an energy level and vocabulary that are both about to explode to the next level - if he wasn't sleeping, he was on the go, exploring, pretending, running, sliding, and talking like mad trying to describe and relate everything that was happening around him. I told Nana that Jack was adorable, and he turned around and said "Adorable Jack" - he doesn't miss a beat. Not only did he feed some goats and deer at the ad hoc petting zoo on the lawn of the Piedmont Club on Sunday morning, but tonight as he was crawling into bed, he was still telling me about the Zebra That Fell Down And Rolled On His Back In The Grass and Whinnied Daddy. Yeah.
I sit down to blog tonight (which of course is much delayed) and I think back to all the things he must have experienced, and I sympathize with his occasional bouts of frustration at his still feeble attempt to express his emotions. The experiences and the memories are coming a mile a minute for both of us, and shame on me for having the adept but very adult ability to remember and push aside these memories both at the same time, in the name of getting on with life. Sometimes I wish I could force myself to appreciate each moment as fully as he does, with such import and wonder that I am compelled to repeat it back to myself hours and days later, still marveling at what was done, and that I have the words to describe the memory.
Jack Sleep Big Boy Bed. Night Night.
Open Eggs. Eat. Candy!
See Fire Truck Goes Eee-oh.
Hug Izzy Bye Bye.
Bud Nana Gigi Mama Daddy Sissy Deandog Home. Taylor?
Zebra That Fell Down And Rolled On His Back In The Grass and Whinnied Daddy. Yeah.
Keep going little guy. This is fantastic.