Lately

So last night I worked until seven or so, and as I walked to the tube, I called Eli to tell him that I was on my way to the gym.  Eli was still reading to Tommy, and when I heard Tommy ask if he could talk to me, I told Eli I wanted to talk to Tommy and would he give him the phone.

Friends, it was a striking telephone call, and let me tell you why.  I said to Tommy, “how was your first day back at school?”

And he answered.  A description of the entire day poured out of him, in his sweet little voice.  I couldn’t believe it.  Normally, the only thing he will tell me about school is what he was served for dessert after lunch.  But put him on the telephone, and no detail is too small to omit.  It was lovely.  When Eli took the phone back he said, “that was a lot more than I got.”  So now I plan to call Tommy every day.

I had the brilliant idea of a pancake morning last night, and this morning Eli remembered and executed the idea while I was getting ready.  I came down and helped finish everything, and then looked at the clock and realized that there is a reason we don’t have complicated breakfasts (that’s right, pancakes are complicated because we make them from scratch over here) on school and work mornings.  We become very late.  On Monday, somehow things were running ahead of schedule, but Tommy was anxious to go to school and kept telling me that we were late.  It was very confusing and I asked him to please stop until he can tell time.

This morning on the walk to school, Tommy asked me if he and I would always be together.  And so began another conversation about death.  I am not sure what has prompted his concern about death (possibly the death of Hanh’s dog; maybe the 24/7 listening to his fairy tale CDs), but it has created a challenging parenting moment for me.  This morning I answered that we would be together for a long time, and he asked me what about when I’m old like Grandma Ruth (Eli’s grandmother) or Gigi (my grandmother)? And so I asked him what he’s worried about, and he explained that he is worried about being hit, pushed, and kicked (probably not going to cause death, I said), but also being crushed by a car (his words), or having a house collapse on him (which would result, he thought, in many bandages).  Though he did not mention it this morning, he is also very scared of the long escalators in the tube.  Now I worry that when I kissed him goodbye, told him to have a good day, and not to worry about anybody dying that I closed off the conversation when he might not have been ready.  (But I was definitely ready.)  I actually found myself wondering if this is how Joseph Smith came up with (what I would argue is) the defining feature of Mormonism, that you are with you family after you die – because his four year old started asking uncomfortable questions.  I’m off to find a book on the subject right after I finish this blog post. (But if you have a good recommendation, feel free to email me or leave a comment.)

Mandy put Lulu’s hair in braids on Tuesday night and Eli sent me a picture.  It kills me.  A year ago she was a baby; now she’s a big girl.  Honestly, I think the baby part could last just a little bit longer and if I’d invented humans, I would let it linger a while.  (Not the part where they don’t sleep and don’t weigh enough to sleep train, though.)  Our favorite little moments with Lulu are those when she asks questions.  In the mornings, when I’m at the gym, she wakes up and when she realizes I’m gone, she says to Eli, “Mommy…Doing?”  I banged my foot into the bathtub and said, “ouch” and she said, “happened?”  Not an early talker by any means, but a talker for sure. Also, she can scream like you’ve never heard when she’s crossed.  I realized this morning (she was screaming because Eli was going to work and took the iPad from her to pack it up) that I’m actually used to functioning – talking to Eli, doing the dishes – with her tantrum going on.  If you happen to be holding her when she’s mad, she looks you directly in the eyes and screams, her mouth four inches from your ear.  She’s a scrappy one.

Being back at work this week has been fine.  Not wonderful, but just fine.  My boss is very impressively named one of London’s HOT 100 lawyers, so it’s fun to tease him about that.  I am itching to plan our next trip, which I believe will be Croatia the week of April 9th for those curious, but it’s not certain yet.  We’re planning to rent a house and relax with Hanh and Eleanor.

And that’s all I’ve got for you, apart from another suggestion that you watch Downton Abbey.  I will say that I liked the first season more than I’m liking the second (which we will finish this weekend but don’t worry, I won’t give anything away).  OH!  And I’ll also recommend “The Art of Fielding” by Chad Harbach.  It’s a nice one, especially for the baseball fans out there.