TIG see the little one, and get the news that everything is going to be okay.
Maternal love is fiercest love. Welcome to it.
Wow, yesterday Danger Boy said (in his Autie patois), "When I was a toddler, your baby was coming out, and maybe its name would be [Chaos Girl]."
I asked if he remembered when his sister was in my belly, and my belly got really big. He giggled and said yes, but I wasn't sure if I believed him -- he was not quite three when she was born, for pete's sake. So I said, "Do you remember coming to visit me and the baby in the hospital?" He said he did, so I quizzed him: "What toys did we play with on the hospital bed?" He said, "Veggie Tales" and my jaw dropped.
He honestly remembers when his sister was born even though he was barely more than a baby himself. I don't remember anything that happened before I was five, at the very youngest. Is it amazing that he remembers stuff that happened when he was two and a half or three? He wasn't even really talking by then so we didn't know whether he understood what was going on at the time, but apparently he did.
Also, I worked last night so we didn't Valentine, but I don't really care anyway. I did take a box of Star Wars conversation hearts, some homemade Portal 2 Valentines and a sprig of bamboo in a jar over to Pedro's office as a surprise. He called me a traitor and bemoaned not having anything for me, but then while I was at work he busted ass and cleaned up all the clutter and junk that was strewn around our messy bedroom so that we have a nice, tidy, distraction-free place to...uh...sleep. That was the nicest gift I could have hoped for.
Tonight we have a date, which is coincidental to Valentine's day but not specifically in celebration of it. It just so happens that the Parent's Night Out thing we take our kids to once a month fell on today. Every restaurant in town is going to be packed because of the "holiday," though, so we're going to stay in tonight and enjoy our nice clean bedroom.
Enjoy the
hell out of it.
I hope this petite 30-something married customer at work doesn't know (does know?) that she is my imaginary valentine.
I have a Thing for women who always seem frazzled. Not to mention the whole "hipster mom" vibe, holy cow.
Good thing I'm not petite, or I might be afraid to meet you for fear that my middle-aged, frazzled, absentmindedness would make your head explode.