For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 59

Happiness is:
The slumbering of a baby who smiles in his sleep (if you can arrange your own slumbering with said baby - double happiness!).
A toddler in over-sized goggles.
Two toddlers straw-fighting over lunch (you know, until someone pokes an eye out).
A first carousel ride not riding a stationary animal (oh the joy of horses ascending and descending to circus music).
A fourteen-year-old in footed pink bunny pajamas, who wears them all night to make your three-year-old laugh, and seeing the two of them side-by-side in near-matching ensembles.
The sight of your husband pushing through the arrivals doors at the airport.
Two thirty-something fathers revisiting their pasts with the help of Little Debbie and an Xbox.
An almost-finished project.
A full house.

And, well, that was just the weekend. Happiness is also the following:

Lately, when Audrey is asked a question, it is not uncommon to hear her say, "As long as my mom says it's okay." I have no idea how this came about, just that the first time she did it I was a bit shocked and tickled, simultaneously. On Sunday, while eating lunch, I asked Audrey if I could have an orange slice from her plate. "Yes, as long as my dad says it's okay," she said. Hmm...

Later that day while watching Dora, Jason laid down on the couch with his head resting across Audrey's legs. She bent over, kissed the top of his head and began brushing her palm across his hair. After a few minutes she said, " Okay, I have to move now. My feet hurt."

Sunday, at church, Nathan began crying. We had the good fortune of his cries being drowned out by a hymn. "Mom, he's just singing," Audrey said.


By Monday Audrey had changed her position. As Nathan cried she said, "He's yelling in the house."
"He doesn't know the rules," I said.
"Go yell in the basement. That's the rule!" she told him.

After dinner (while he was not crying) she told him, "You are the best little brother. Best. Best. Best."


Once again, by the next day she had rethought her former position. While completing a puzzle she sang, "I don't know why God gave us a baby," not in disdain, just as if pondering if over.

She had some thinking to do about her father as well.
"What is Dad about?" she asked.
"He's your dad and my husband," I said.
"Is he my husband?"
"You don't have a husband. You have to be old like Mama to have a husband."
"Who will be my husband?" she asked.
"I don't know. I don't know if we've met him yet."
"Maybe it's Santa Claus."
"Maybe."


Wednesday, we drove Jason to the airport. As Jason and I debated about the best route to take, Audrey said, "You guys are funny."

On the same trip she told us that Nathan was "wide asleep."

We dropped Jason in front of the departures doors and pulled away from the curb. Audrey began to complain. Apparently, the airport resembles the Children's Museum to her and she was sure she was being gypped when I told her there were no dinosaurs inside to go look at (we made this up to her on Saturday when we met up with one of her friends at the museum).

We stopped at a few stores before driving home. While shopping I asked Audrey what she wanted for dinner. "Pancakes!" she said. Later, while walking past Panera, she got upset when we didn't go in to eat.
"You told me you wanted pancakes for dinner," I said.
"They don't have pancakes?!"


Thursday, Nathan began to cry. "Don't cry. You have a big sister," Audrey said.
"You think he's crying because he wants a big sister?" I said.
"Yes. But he already has one so he don't need to cry about it."


Friday, she began playing with my belt. "I'm going to put this (the prong on the belt clamp) in this (the eyelet) because I'm a big sister that can do stuff." Then she asked for help.


Friday afternoon, we drove to the airport to pick Jason up. We saw him walk through the arrivals door and Audrey began to cry, "It's so sad he wasn't here. I missed him."
Jason crawled into the front seat and I told him what she had said. She had been fine the last two days, never mentioning being sad, and now that his meeting was over and everything was fine, she lost it, I explained. Jason laughed. "Oh no. She's just like you."


A busy week. A busy weekend. But lots and lots of happiness. Not that the entire week was one happy-fest, there were times between Wednesday and Friday (my first two nights alone with both kids) when I thought I needed a clone, or more hours in the day, or a magic potion that would shrink us to carry-on size - nights when we ate bagels for dinner. But, thank goodness for bagels with Honey Nut cream cheese. Honey Nut cream cheese. Oh happiness. Let's focus on that.