Wednesday, September 21, 2011

2 and 4.

The sun was behind the mountains to the west when we showed up to the football game. My husband's team plays on a field that's backed by a horizon of mountains, and at that time of night their silhouettes stand crisp in front of a backdrop of cherry red sky.

Following the lead of my kids (is there any other way?), we climbed the bleachers and settled in a seat behind a man and his wife. Turning to smile at us, the man commented, "What beautiful children you have!" and I smiled and thanked him.

"He's so blonde, isn't he?" he continued.

"Yeah, he gets it from his Daddy. They both do." I answered. Experience tells me he's probably silently questioning whether I, with the dark brown hair, am the nanny.

The man lifted his hat to show a bald head that gleamed under the stadium lights. Rubbing his hand over it, he smiled at my son and said, "I used to have blonde hair JUST like yours, son."

Grinning and seeing his moment, Rohan pointed to the man with one hand and grabbed some strands of his own hair with the other. "Oh, I have more than YOUUuuuu DOooooo!" he answered, laughing.

And his audience cracked up at the joke.




















----------------------------------


I am officially in love with the sweet spot found at the intersection of 2 and 4.

(I feel as though the black plastic on the floor and the absence of baseboards are deserving of an explanation, so here it is. We are broke as hell, so though the new floors are all in, we haven't yet purchased the new baseboards to be installed, and thus we have not trimmed the plastic to sealed the cracks between flooring and wall/foundation. I'm hopeful that it'll happen over Christmas break.)


They fight like crazy people, her bossing him and deciding that the exact toy she needs is the one he just reached for/mentioned and him shrieking at the top of his lungs and curling into a ball on the floor while saying, "Leave me alone!"

The "Leave me alone!" kills it, either making us crack up at the melodramatics of it all or hurting someone's feelings. And, ok, I can admit that when it's aimed in my direction it stings a bit. I know Luca will probably hate me by the time she is 11, being that she's a girl and all, but I expect Rohan not to hate me until he dates the first girl who tries to convince him I am the devil. (For the record, I already hate that imaginary-possible-in-the-future little trollop.) So hearing that he wants me to leave him alone hurts sometimes.

But, as soon as it's out of his mouth he runs over to me, almost without exception, saying, "I want you!" and begging to be held and cuddled.

Meanwhile, she sometimes tests the patience of everyone in our house. Luca and her daddy can be like oil and water sometimes, though they adore each other to no end. I think they have more in common than either recognizes, which leads to them butting heads like crazy. I'm not a complete believer in things like horoscopes, but I think it's no surprise that you'll often find Rohan (Pisces) and me (Aquarius) sitting on the couch cuddling and giggling while Luca (Taurus) and Darrick (Leo) battle out the wills over some inane point of contention.





































She is tender and sensitive and fiercely protective and intelligent. He is tender and wild, a typhoon of hilarity and touch. I adore them when they are nothing but soft skin and heads bowed together, her honey hair and his wheat strands blending into one flare of sunshine. I love evening bathtime, with two naked bodies sharing a tub of bubbles, warm water, and soap as they create their own narratives of play. I cave willingly when they beg me to let them sleep in the same room or even the same bed, their sleeping faces all cheeks and curled lashes and puffy lips.



I hope they stay best friends. I hope his raucous sense of humor always cracks her more serious shell, and I hope she continues to protect him like a lioness would her cub.

No comments:

LinkWithin

Blog Widget by LinkWithin