Ways to Be Wistful
Latter episodes of slight sadness:
Iz was not elected third grade representative--she came third, out of four candidates. She is able to discuss the loss very straightforwardly, and while she is obviously disappointed, seems overall comfortable with not winning. A good, though difficult, lesson to learn. I am sad for her but proud of how graciously she is handling defeat.
This weekend Mali and I went to Fucking Phoenix for my brother's surprise 41st birthday party. We didn't all go because at the time that I bought the ticket, we had no income and tickets for all of us would have been $1200. Mali got to go because she flew for free-probably for the last time. Anyhow, Leelo was in the car when we got dropped off at the airport. When I hugged him goodbye, he looked me straight in the eye and said, "I want to go on the airplane, Mommy!" This was delightful because it again demonstrated that he is in fact quite aware of his environment even if he doesn't always express it, but also heartbreaking because he was making a very big effort to tell me what he wanted--to go on the trip with us--and I couldn't take him.
I can't really call Mali a baby anymore. She's still my baby, but she's not a baby. Babies don't say things like, "The eggs is cooking!" upon observing a boiling pot of huevos. (Sure she knows eggs, but how does she know "cooking"? I don't remember the last time I boiled eggs, so how does she?)
Babies don't ride around on hobby horses, and demand that their parents saddle up and participate. The fact that Mali has all sorts of self-generated imaginative play is itself surprising and a big contrast from both of her doers-rather-than-players siblings.
Babies don't smell purloined chocolate on their Daddy's breath and then ask for some, too.
Babies don't see Superman Logo and declare, "Is Superman! Is red!" (Again, how the hell does she even know who Superman is, let alone what his logo is?)
Our last baby is slipping away, and getting replaced by a little girl. I am so grateful for every minute with her, but wish there was some Pensieve-like way to preserve her babyhood so we wouldn't have to leave it behind entirely.