And the saga continues

Happy New Year! 2009 has flipped a switch in our boy. Just as I despaired of never being on schedule again—it rocked my world more than it should have—we're back in a routine. But now, YoYo needs more. Not more stuff, but more stimulus, it seems. I can’t tell if this is a long unwinding from holiday chaos or if it's a new layer of his person growing into toddler-hood before our eyes.

He pretends to read all the time, desperately wants to write, and wants to either dance or draw nonstop. It sounds inspiring, but it is wearing me out. Each time I send him to play with his cars so that I can do dishes or cook or be sick for a minute, instead of crafting something that will offer him what he’s after, I feel as though I’m compromising his adulthood. It’s not about minimum wage job versus trust fund magnate, it’s about cramping his person—making him smaller to keep my world safe. I know I can’t take each moment that seriously, but I do, again and again.


This week, we’ll return to the urologist for the first time since August. Not sure what to expect. I think we’re supposed to talk about some reconstructive surgery options for his pelvic area—I guess more cosmetic than anything. It seemed the most sensible time to do this would be at the beginning of a new insurance deductible, and at naptime to boot. Oh, but we’re the smart ones!

I am desperately trying to upload a video of YoYo dancing while cramming popcorn into his mouth (he thinks I can't see it happening). PS, thanks again, Dad, for the GIGANTIC container of popcorn. It's the gift that keeps giving.