Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Spring has Sprang
The rains stopped. The grass was almost instantly greener and we came home one day, pulling into our driveway and noticed flowers. Lots and lots of yellow daffodils. We stopped midway into the driveway and admired them.
About an hour after we arrived home, Sadie burst into the house with a fistful of yellow flowers. "Look mama! The flowers have springed!"
Now we admire the dark green foliage as we drive into our driveway. I was pleased however, to see a new daffodil pop open after the last bit of rain we had this week.
So, there you have it folks - the lone daffodil of spring!
This week found me recently bemoaning the fact I never had a hairy baby - this came about in a conversation Matt and I were having about getting older. I have forever and always wanted a baby with a headful of hair, coming home from the hospital with a mohawk or ponytails - one of those kids people stop you and say "Look at all that hair!". First thing I asked, every delivery - "do they have any hair?" Hopeful, ever hopeful. Always, always disappointed - at least hair wise. I made the comment that I felt certain we could have six more children and every single one of them would be just as bald as the first six. Apparently Matt's selective hearing was on, because he heard " blah, blah . . . certain . . have six more children . . . blah, blah, blah". He can jump surprisingly high for an old guy. He breathed a great sigh of relief when I assured him I had no intention of testing that particular theory out . . . (though, I did mention hearing loss as a possible sign of advanced age.)
Adam has been very similar to his older brothers in that up to now, he hasn't been much of a talker. Around the age of three they seem to suddenly develop the ability of speech and begin talking in full sentences. Always a switch to go from grunts and pointing one day to complete and coherent sentences the next. Garrett held out the longest - so much so that we actually had him evaluated by a speech therapist. She laughed merrily when my heretofore mute child suddenly launched into a dissertation on chalkboards. I found it slightly less amusing and was tempted to smack my head against the floor. Trent's primary babysitter as a toddler use to tell us when we would come home "He doesn't talk very much, does he?" Several months later this same babysitter was telling us "He doesn't ever stop talking, does he?!" So, it was no real surprise when Adam went from gesticulation and grunting for communicating, to sentences coming up on his third birthday. His first real sentence? Not so much a statement as a question or expression of disbelief - "What the heck??!!"
And that pretty much sums up how I feel most days:
"What the heck??!!"