I seem to recall watching some little news segment on occasion where the news of the world is summed up in 60 seconds of quick headline announcing. Whenever I see it, parts of me want to hold out a hand here and there to shout, “Wait! Hold up! What’s the full story on that? Slow down!” But another part of me enjoys the speedy rundown of so much information. Perhaps I should try something similar here?
Thanksgiving we made our own meal. Mette finally learned to walk. Summer began climbing repeatedly out of her crib. Mike and the older three are off at a late night showing of Star Wars as I type. I discovered Jesse and Anders sleeping in a makeshift tent after I put them to bed tonight. We are down to less than a month ‘til this baby is due. My back is constantly pinched. Abe turned 16. Jesse turned eight. Someone in the family seems to have some pressing obligation every single night this month. Our basement is almost truly finished. Nearly 24 hours of rain has gotten rid of all our snow.
Hm. Well, it was fairly efficient, but I must admit it felt a bit empty. There is maybe an interesting element of intrigue involved with the questions that linger after such quick statements. But it pained me not to tell the rest. Details are my favorite. I wanted to tell about how poorly our pie crusts turned out (and how terrible and rubbery my banana cream filling was) but how much I loved all the simple Thanksgiving traditions with just Mike and my kids. I wanted to tell how Mette never looked back on crawling once walking became an option – even though it’s meant going markedly slower, and how, a week or two in, she still waddles slightly penguin like with her arms held up and out in squares for balance, and how her favorite thing used to be crawling around the house with shoes on her hands but now, when she puts them on her hands, she just looks slightly lost and sadly disillusioned as shoed hands don’t carry the same appeal for her up in the air as they did thumping along the tile. I wanted to tell how the tent I found the little boys in was made by hanging a blanket down from Jesse’s top bunk to form a cozy enclosure over Anders lower bunk and how startled I was to find them actually sleeping rather than fighting or giggling. I wanted to tell about the wildness of December birthdays for someone who never has even Christmas gifts purchased ahead of time, and about the exhaustion of not being able to put Summer in her crib and know she’ll stay there, and about not being able to fit in even a small portion of the Christmas traditions I have wanted to due to how many other things have come up for everyone this month, and about my feelings of both excitement and stress as I consider all the moving kids to new rooms and shuffling other kids about in the older rooms (and the chaos and mess that will surely be a part of it) landing most-likely right about the same time as this baby boy of ours arrives.
And I guess . . . I did just tell those things. Was that cheating? Well, never mind. Here are a few other “details”:
Always always this blanket is snuggled directly under Anders’ nose.
And, before the rains, we really did get a lot of snow.
And it seems everyone has had a choir concert or a recital (or both) this month. Here Daisy and Penny are just before their piano one.
And, since our anniversary lands at the end of December, I often reminisce during this month on the excitement of that December just prior to our marriage. We were attending universities 90 minutes away from one another, trying to find our first apartment, studying for finals, sneaking off on the long drive to see each other when we should have been studying for finals, gathering addresses and sending out wedding invitations, and holding still for wedding dress fittings (my mom sewed my wedding dress – it was amazing – I actually had someone ask me if it was a Vera Wang). This photo wasn’t the one in our invitation, but it’s always hung on our fridge. It makes me happy every time I look at it. When I posted this picture on Instagram I speculated that maybe we were laughing so hard because someone had just said, “17 years from now you’ll be about to have your ninth child!”
All right, well, for details being my “favorite” and all, I’ve managed to detail myself out. Here are a few last detail-less photos and then off to bed with all of you. Or, at least, off to bed with me. (Except probably I’ll stay up and read and wait to hear the verdict on Star Wars from Mike and the kids.)
OK, one last little detail: that last black and white picture? The one of Summer? It looks exactly like little me. I texted it to my sisters and my younger sister actually thought I’d sent an old photo of me that I’d come across.
All right. Really. The end.