I’ve been pretty down for the past couple of weeks. I’m tired, too. I think the last year has finally caught up with me. And I know it doesn’t get any easier.
Everything I own smells damp and musty because of the weather, even the furniture. I hate clothes that smell damp and musty. They come out of the drawers smelling like they need to be washed.
Yesterday started out well enough, took a severe turn for the worse mid-afternoon, crashed and burned late afternoon, was salvaged by an unexpected phone call offering me some help that made me cry because I have such thoughtful friends who are willing to go out of their way, went south again until Liam finally fell asleep ten minutes before people arrived for a meeting, and then ended on a welcome calm note thanks to a tranquil and restful Solstice ritual led by one of our coveners.
Today began badly, improved somewhat, and looked to be okay until Liam fell and chipped a tooth. There was blood along the gum from the blow, which wasn’t my concern so much as the tooth being displaced. It’s a minor chip, but enough that I notice it when he nurses. The thing doesn’t seem to be wiggling, but it does seem to be slightly further back that it was before — and when I say slightly, I mean only a couple of millimeters. And the kid did it by trying to climb up on the baseboard heater to give him a bit of extra reach to play with the windowsill in his room. I gave him cold water to drink from a grown-up glass and a cool teething ring from the fridge. He was fine five minutes later.
The yay of the situation: he can climb up on things now. Including the foot-high lap desk Ceri gave me a few summers ago, which makes such a lovely low altar. I found him standing on it the morning after Sunday night’s ritual, touching books a whole shelf higher. He gave me such a pleased look that if I’d had any notion of being upset (I hadn’t) I wouldn’t have been able to bring myself to get there. If he gets into the bathroom before the child gate goes up, he leans on the edge of the bathtub and tries to hoist a leg up on it to get in. (Yes, he loves his baths.)
The boo of the situation is that being higher means more of a fall.
Let’s see, more random Liam stuff that I keep forgetting to mention: he can applaud, and does so frequently. Sometimes he says “Yay!” while he does it. He can sit quietly and concentrate on a movie for about fifteen minutes or the opening story sequence on Sesame Street. When music plays he smiles and bangs his open hand on his thigh or a table to keep time. I’ve heard him singing to himself, too, when there’s no music on and he’s alone. He’s further exploring the idea of putting small things inside larger things. Everything that fits into the sorting bin now goes into it, including toast. Wheels are still awesome. I got him a whole video of things that drive, fly, roll, and so forth, and he adores it.
As I am now officially carless thanks to HRH’s new job (for which he absolutely needs transportation throughout the day to get from job site to job site), Jeff just came to pick Liam up and take him back to his godparents’ place for their Tuesday afternoon playdate in order to allow me to get work done. I was going to try the bus to see if the two hour round trip was worth the loss of the nap for Liam and the two hours I’d have alone before HRH brought the boy home on the way back from work, but they offered to pick him up instead to give him his after-lunch nap and to give me as much time as possible. (See why I cried when I got off the phone?) I still don’t know what we’re going to do about the weekly Friday date Liam has with his grandma on the south shore; I don’t even have the option of public transport for that. Jeff has offered to help out there too, but that’s an hour out of his day, and I would like to preserve that as a last resort. If HRH is at one location for the whole day on a Friday, he’s going to look into the option of me dropping him off and picking him up when the day is done so that I can have the car. I really hope that’s doable, because to lose my Fridays at this point when I desperately need them to work on my own is inconceivable.