Evening of November Eighth

I arrive home after a day at work. Look in one of the three windows in our front door. I see Genevieve in the living room, in her underpants, wearing nothing else. I open the door, a little, and I can see Marilee and Reesa, also in the living room. Reesa comes running, decked out in a pink tu-tu. She wants a hug, to say hello, and she wants “up-eee.” Lately, she has wanted lots of “up-eee,” and I try to provide some to her each day. Sooner than I’ll know, she’ll feel heavy to pick up, and soon after that she won’t be interested in being picked up and held by her dad. So I enjoy it while I can, and as my back muscles allow.

Reesa likes to kiss. Sometimes, when I’m lying next to her on her bed while trying to settle her to sleep, she will say, “I love you soooo much!” And she will bring her head close to mine and say, “Dis is your cheek,” and kiss one cheek of mine. Then she will lean over to the other side of my face and say, “And dis is your udder cheek,” and kiss that one. And if she’s sleepy, she might start to settle down, and if she is not sleepy she will begin to recite all of the other body parts she can think of, pointing to each and every one as she calls out the name, and then chatter about something else if that gets boring. Anything to keep from falling asleep.

In the course of the early evening on this day, Genevieve will get dress in her red winter theme pajamas. She and her sister are playing “night-night.” As long as it’s happy play. Tonight, it is mostly happy.

We talked to aunt Michelle and cousin Paris. Dinner was a simple egg salad with crackers. Genevieve is adept at peeling the shell off of a hard boiled egg without mangling the egg too much. They eat well, and following dinner after I leave the room Genevieve gets her finger stuck in the high chair tray button. Marilee has to talk to Genevieve about why it took mommy or daddy so long to come help her. The reason is that she has screaming tantrums often enough now that we don’t immediately respond and that tantrums and screams of pain sound quite a bit alike.

They take a shower together. (Showers are a treat—mostly, they will take a bath together.) Then time to get out clothes for tomorrow, and storytime. I forget to get them to brush their teeth after their shower. We are too busy playing “rock.” Marilee finishes the storytime, and settles them down in bed while I get started on some housework. Soon, I’ll get under a comforter on our bed and draft this entry, find a picture, and post the entry. Brush and floss and go to sleep. Marilee is getting ready to go to Florida for five days, so we don't get time together. All-in-all, not too uncommon for an evening.