Nothing is sweeter!
Nothing is sweeter!
I’m home from Kate’s, and instead of sleeping in a room with Raj I will be conked out all alone in my quiet space tonight. While I was still in D.C./Arlington I wanted to write a little collage-y post about my last week with their family, but I was running out of steam. I haven’t really built up steam at this point, quite the opposite, but I do want to have blog closure on this, and I need a little time to wind down this evening, so…
We had the 4th of July, when I stayed home with Raj who had gone to bed, but I saw the fireworks at the Capitol anyway, out our window. Only blocked a little, by a big building across the way. We had glorious thunderstorms, which were also fun to watch, with horizontal rain and dramatic electrical and sound displays — but one of them caused flash floods nearby, which I’m sure the people getting rescued didn’t feel glorious about.
We did lots of baby-rocking and smooching, cooking and eating. Later I will try to post some recipes of what I cooked. All the cooking required shopping, so we made a fun trip to Costco to make use of me having a card. It was a happy-family sort of outing such as I don’t think I’ve ever had at Costco 🙂 . Six of us including two boys under two and the nanny Kareena — and the adults were all jolly.
On the way I told Tom that he should sing a going-to-Costco song, because he is often singing through the days. He considered this idea for only a few seconds before it came to him that the tune should be something by John Philip Sousa, and he made us all laugh with his lyrics to a rousing number that fit our mood well. Walking through the store Rigo slept peacefully in a front pack, but Raj in the cart started to get a little antsy as our explorations were prolonged. I distracted him by means of the cut flower display which he really did admire, and some Pringle samples.
Fitting all those groceries into the not-huge SUV with all of us was a challenge; I protected the tomatoes on my lap. Getting so many boxes and bags, plus two babies, out of the car and into the elevator, then out of the elevator on our floor, was a creative logistical work; the elevator was determined to close on us, and some of our company were very scrappy in the skirmish.
Today I woke at 6:00, Eastern Time. Lately Raj had been waking me up with more babbling than crying. After a while he was ready to get up, and I started him on his morning routine of dressing, playing, breakfast, before the nanny came on duty and while his parents were catching up from nighttime with a newborn. Sometimes lying in bed with me was a changed aspect of the routine. I started this paragraph the past continuous tense and had to change it… 😦 I hope Raj will continue, though, to wake up a little later than he had been doing before I arrived.
Actual flight time from east to west was barely over five hours, but by the time I got to my house this evening I’d been traveling twelve hours. I walked around my gardens front and back, and everything looks so healthy and good! I drank my Ten Ren “Relaxing Tea,” and may God bless it to be so.
Nearly every day Raj and I spend quite a bit of time on the balcony of the 13th-floor apartment where his family lives. It’s above a major intersection with a couple dozen lanes of traffic meeting and surging with cars, trucks and buses most of the day. To the east between the high-rises we can see a slice of Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. When my grandson sees a jet take off he squeals; a few seconds later we see it emerge from behind tall buildings to the north, and much smaller to the eye. But he is still watching it.
Emergency vehicles sound their sirens in the neighborhood at least a couple of times every day, and sometimes we will hurry out and try to spot them. If not, we’re sure to see one or several of Raj’s favorite Metro buses waiting at a stop light just below. We’ve shared the delights of cement mixers, dump trucks, car transports and motorcycles. Once it was three police cars in a line, lights flashing. On the balcony itself is Daddy’s bicycle, a vehicle he can even put his hands on, and examine small parts like wheel, reflector and pedals.
All of that transportation stuff would be exciting enough for a toddler, but there are a surprising number of experiences of flora and fauna as well. Pigeons and sparrows land on the rail. Spiders spin webs during the night and in the morning the birds swoop down and eat the spiders. One day we watched a slender and elegant fly as it crawled along the edge of the balcony for several feet, and as it made a left turn to cross the span and continue up the wall of the building. We watched it go all the way to the top of a window and disappear into a crack, and Raj waved good-bye. Then it came out of the crack again! He never lost his focus on that creature until it vanished again for good.
Raj doesn’t talk yet, but he uses many signs to communicate; some of these are standard sign language that many parents nowadays teach their babies, and others he has invented himself. By signs he can say “please,” “thank you,” “more,” “all done,” “Daddy,” “hot,” “cold,” “I like this food,” and at least several other things I can’t think of or that he doesn’t use as often. One experience he can indicate is of the wind.
Many times when we are looking over the balcony, a breeze will come up, and a few times when that happened I have mentioned it to him. One day we were standing at the railing in silent contemplation, punctuated by the occasional “Hmm!” from Raj that seems to be his comment on anything positive. This time, when the wind came up, he was the one who first noted it, by making sweeping, large and circular movements with his arms.
The balcony is the place to experience (and “talk” about) the heat of the metal wall at one end, when he runs the length of its patio and bangs on it with both little hands. There is an overhang above — perhaps the balcony of the next apartment up? — but not extending so far that one can’t stretch an arm into falling rain, or find very shallow puddles to splash in. Even with many high-rise buildings all around, the sky is huge and ever changing, often with clouds that are well worth talking about.
Our boy is never on the balcony without an adult companion, and from my first time out there with him we have enjoyed and refined our game of copy-cat. First, he would merely run full speed from one end to the other and back, and I would follow exactly. Raj added a certain arm-swing to his choreography, and the next day dance-y hops. Lately he likes to lead me in walking backward the whole way, sometimes stopping suddenly to line up our feet just-so, so that we can look at our toes side-by-side.
I’ve been impressed with the richness of this child’s life overall — full of stimulation and human warmth and at the same time very ordered and routine. Having a nanny to push you to the park almost every day is a boon, and currently several adults to make sure that you can eat and sleep at regular times even when there is a new baby in the house.
For a short time in his life, his days will include this simple balcony with no furniture typical of a patio area. His parents don’t want any items that he might learn to climb up on. Until this week when a larger plastic fire truck came into the household, no toys were allowed out there, because they could fall through the spaces or be thrown over the top.
For an even shorter time Raj has this grandma to play our particular balcony games with him. That space is simple and plain, and many adults not carrying a phone wouldn’t know what to do there. But it’s a fun playground where a toddler can exercise not only his short legs but his attention span. He can tune his senses to the life of the city and participate in a vast world.
Just before the weekend linked May to June, I drove north to see two of my children’s families and to be with Annie on the day of her graduation from high school. Her brother is graduating from college this month, too, so the afternoon barbecue was in his honor as well.
In the northern parts of the state winter was having its last fling all the way until Sunday; only a week before, Pippin had to put off her planting on account of snow, and I drove through a thunderstorm on my way up. When one downpour ended, the wind would blow the pine pollen around wildly, so that while Ivy and I lay on the grass birdwatching into the oak tree, a fine yellow blizzard suddenly whirled above and around us.
I stayed at Pippin’s. The morning of the graduation party, before I piled in the van with their family to drive up into Oregon, Ivy and I took a walk down the road and back. We saw strawberry flowers and the carcasses of wild animals, and some strange natural art.
It appeared that the same pine pollen that was plastered all over my car and lay as yellow dust on Pippin’s iris flowers had fallen on a driveway and then been washed by the rain into an intriguing design. We’ve been trying to imagine who or what prepared the asphalt “canvas” beforehand in such a way that the natural events could form these patterns.
Just a bit later, after Ivy had washed her hair for the party, she and Scout showed me their collection of artwork from the past school year. It was hard to choose which of several dozen pieces to take away on my camera, but here is a little gallery:
Bouquet of flowers including book-, pencil- and butterfly-flowers,
in a detailed and highly narrative and symbolic vase.
And then, Pippin’s picture of the last storm Saturday evening, and Jamie:
I’ll be showing you more of nature’s art in another post, but here’s a bit more human artwork — clever and beautiful use of natural wood — which I saw just as I was leaving town to come home. I put my car in reverse and backed up a hundred feet to the side of the road so I could take this picture for Pom Pom especially, but I know there are lots of other art and mushroom lovers out there.