Connor turned 2 yesterday. He wasn't with us: it was his weekend with his grandmother, and he doesn't get them overly often. But we made sure to have cake with dinner when he came home, and he's sharing a party with Erin next weekend (it's her 5th birthday in a fortnight) which we're going to make a big, fun, special occasion.
I've talked before about what a miracle Connor is: how hard it was for me to agree to have another child in the wake of Erin's birth; how we almost lost him a couple of times during the preganancy; the pain Lyn experienced carrying him to term. And the problems he's encountered since his birth have been a constant source of fear: he's undergone an operation to correct a crossed eye; he's suffered language problems and a multitude of serious fevers. His health is not the heartiest. He suffers periods of interrupted sleep, and night terrors are regular visitors.
And yet, he's fearless, which simply increases mine-- how to explain the nervousness when he engages in his favourite game of climb onto the back of the couch and see where the full blooded leap takes me? Or when his begging to be lifted up succeeds, and his first act upon reaching your chest is to throw himself backwards, laughing, full of trust that you'll catch him before he crashes upside-down into the floor?
How to explain the delight of rolling around the bed with him in a big hug, laughing and nuzzling his neck? Or playing fingerpistols? (point finger, make shooting noise, fall down dramatically, laughing) Or the giggle that rises unbidden when chasing his squealing form around the living room in an impromptu game of chasey? Singing the chorus to "We will rock you" together, complete with clapping and dancing? Or watching him watching the finches in their cage as if each fluttering movement was the most exciting event in the world?
Every moment with him is a burst of emotional extremes. He makes my heart pulse. so happy birthday, my darling, beautiful boy. And thank you, because you do not know what it is you have changed in me.
WHOOSH, SWISH, NEEEEE-OOOOWWWWMMMMMMMMM..........
Broadband has been connected. Don't things move more quickly? :)
The only down side is that, now we can use the phone and internet connection at the same time, we have to answer the damn phone when it rings instead of using the answering service to screen calls.
Oh well, it's a small price to pay. Whooooooosssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhh....................
I AM ARTMAN!
Hard work all weekend to get things ready for the birthdays party. Part of which involved a project I've been leading up to for some time: the conversion of our second shed into a cubby house for the kids. They had a beautiful big wooden one at the old house, which we had to leave behind, and I've been determined to offer a replacement as soon as I could.
So much of yesterday involved cleaning the shed out, de-crawlyfying the space, adding the necessary garden bench, blackboards, toy chest and posters. And then, because there is no punishment I will not inflict upon myself, the painting, humphing about, and placement of 8 concrete slabs into a path to the door.
900-mill square concrete slabs are heavy.
But Artman must have his day. And I'm quietly pleased at the result (quiet: adj. talking about it on a public weblog with a potential audience in the millions.)
Satisfaction is cleaning up the patio in the evening and hearing the kids shouting "Onnne, twoooo, threeee..." from the cubby house end of the garden.
AND INTRODUCING MY FAITHFUL SIDEKICK, CRAFTBOY!
Not to be outdone, Aiden threw himself into a science project this week that involved presenting a paper on a dinosaur of his choice, as well as building a visual aid.
Casting aside all offers of aid (because, sometimes, dinosaurs are too cool to share), he disappeared into his room with the deadline looming, and returned with this: presenting (from left to right) Ornithochirus Marks II and I.
I hope he gets them back when they've been marked. We can hang them over the patio :)
Pssst: your frame is showing...
Song of the moment: I'm The Urban Spaceman The Bonzo The Dog Doo Dah Band
Reading: The Book of Fantasy Jorge Luis Borges (ed), Take The Joy Jane Yolen