Three years and four months as of today we brought home this little wrinkly sugarbear, fruitaboo, Judesy thing who now carries on entire conversations and already attempts reverse-psychology on his parents.
Did it pass so fast that it was a blur or has it felt like an eternity of an exhausted murky reality puncutated by the chaos of a little boy? I can't really decide.
Although right this minute I'm leaning more toward the latter. Exhausted doesn't do this bone aching, headachey, sleep deprived feeling justice. You know what I'm talking about intimately, I'm sure.
I love it when Jude wakes up happy and bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to greet the world!
Except when it's 3AM.
Which is fine.
Except when he doesn't go back to sleep until long after 7AM.
Then, as Jude himself would say these days, yes......but no.
And where is the perpetrator right now? Oh you know where he is. Happily zonked. Which, although I don't think I'll last much longer myself, really was a blessing because for the first time in over three years and four months I was able to have a hot bath, BY MYSELF. You remember that concept, right, By Myself? It's an unfamiliar, almost foreign thing to me these days. I don't even get to go to the bathroom By Myself any longer. Not without super-ears hearing and shouting out "MOM, are you poopin'?" and hearing him running toward the bathroom because I will obviously need assistance flushing.
Wonderfully, my bath wasn't just By Myself, but hot, and not just hot either, theraputic hot. Mmmm. One of the simple things a girl misses once the small wrinkly thing that grows up and needs to be informed of your every bodily function comes home. I know those of you who don't have your own live in poop recorder/broadcaster/commentator are saying, "For real? Not get to take a long hot bath by herself in three years? Give me a break, it can't be that bad" "Hahahahahaha"...is all the rest of us have to say.
So here I am, the first evening of Spring, 2008 and I've had my own Birth of Venus of sorts. Feeling a bit as if I'm coming out of a long fog of confusion for the first time in years, like a goddess in a watery garden surrounded by lotus, fairy moss, water hyacinths, Diego's rescue 'copter and a circus elephant.
Could a vernal equinox be so perfect?
