daddy moments

Dad is a great dad. Wanna see why?

Naptime with Lucas.

Tickles with Ruth.

The scar

Lucas nestled in my arms this afternoon, nursing quietly in between fits of talkativeness and enthusiastic whapping of various toys. I held his left arm–thick and padded–in my hand. I thought about the miniature skeleton underneath it, so delicate and sturdy at the same time.

Then, I noticed it–his scar.

A few weeks ago, we discovered that Lucas was strong enough to open the oven door entirely on his own. We learned it the hard way. Yes, he cried, but not nearly as much as his injury warranted. An ugly scab formed in a loose crescent shape on his left forearm. As with many childhood injuries, it dissipated quickly, almost miraculously.

The skin is now pink and smooth in a plastic way, as though someone taped the scar on to his soft, delicate baby skin. I’m sure it will fade easily over time. I may grow to miss the scar, even, because it symbolizes my boy’s strength and curiosity.

I hope he’s learned his lesson about ovens, though.

Home, home, home

I’m back from Texas, and have been for awhile now. I had the strange feeling upon returning home, that I wasn’t truly “home,” but merely on another leg of my travels. It’s taken a week or so of normal life–laundry, dishes, diapers–to shake that feeling, and find contentment in being settled until we visit Baltimore for Christmas.

We’re settled, but not completely. I have mounting anxieties about our finances, about employment, about the loose strings that moving has created. I won’t go into the complicated details, but applying for food stamps and state health benefits has turned into a game of setting up dominoes in just the right positions so that one falls right after another. It feels as though there are 27 steps for each document I need to prove that we are who we say we are, live where we say we live, and need what we say we need.

Experiencing a New England autumn again has made up for this, however. Crisp air and that familiar temperate forest smell evoke powerful childhood memories for me. I’m remembering what it means to layer clothing, and discovering that my wardrobe is sorely lacking in chilly New England essentials. I curse Baltimore for making me a weather wuss.

The kids are very healthy (at the moment), and lucky for us, the dreaded H1N1 vaccine shortage won’t hit home; Ruth has had her first dose, while Steve and I will get ours this week. It’s nice to have a toddler whose nose I don’t need to wipe every ten minutes, and a baby breathing easy and phlegm-free.

Thanksgiving is nigh upon us; Steve’s parents will be up for a visit to get their hit of Ruthie’s energy and Lucas’ baby smiles. Both my brothers will return to Natick, and we will gather around the table like old times, and perhaps even say the family grace with gusto:

God is great, God is good
and we thank him for our food.
By his hands we are fed
we thank him for our daily bread.
Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub!
Yay, God!

(Mom always tried to make us drop that last bit.)

…

(See my October family photos, too!)

Almost Talking; Almost

Ruth is quite the chatterbox. She looks you in the eye, points and gestures, and even laughs at things she thinks are silly or jokes. I can’t understand a word she’s saying, but she is saying words that resemble other words, like “Hi!” and “baby” and “daddy.” Her favorite almost-word is something that resembles “that,” only the “th” is more like a “d” and the “t” at the end is more like an “s”. “Dhats,” is more like it, if I’d have to spell it.

She’s also almost jumping… as in, she does occasionally launch herself off the ground. Always a climber, I find her on the kitchen table and ambitiously exploring new territories. I have a feeling that the talking and jumping will come at the same time, and we’ll have our hands even more full than they are already.

In Other News

We’ve decided that Tapeworm (as we’ve affectionately called him) will be named Lucas. Middle names are up for grabs. Steve has always wanted to name one of his future sons Lucas, and we figured that since you never know what’s going to be thrown at you, we might as well name this one Lucas. It’s funny how less opinionated I am about naming the second child than I was the first, at least, I feel more at ease letting Steve “get” the name. Perhaps I’ll be picky with the third, I don’t know! Maybe I have too much else to care about!

I do believe that names are important, but I’m not going to wrench myself over what to name our children. We’ll go for nice names that we like, and that’s that.

Work Work Work

Remaining before my self-imposed maternity leave: 3 weddings, 2 engagement portraits, 1 family session, and 1 glamor/girly session. It’s a lot of work, but I’m grateful to be over the halfway point of my weddings season. I still have a lot of photo editing to do, as well as marketing and planning for next year, but I think that will have to wait until my “leave” starts. The winter will be a good time to get myself together and prep for an amazing 2010 season. Inquiries are up for me now, and I’ve been asked to quote three different destination weddings (never been asked before!).

And Prayer, Please

We have a lot to do before we move; please cover it in prayer for us.