Because I’m lacking momentum on my writing projects right now, I’m looking for excuses to do something other than write. (Insert sheepish face.) Julianna just offered me the perfect opportunity by howling in her crib in that tone of voice that tells you something’s genuinely wrong. Sure enough, when I got upstairs, she had managed to jam her bent knee through the crib rail. Once I got that sorted out, I went looking for her little moon toy that plays “Lullaby and good night.” It was no longer in the crib, where I left it when I put her down for nap a few minutes ago. It was on the floor.
It may not seem like a big deal, a child throwing a toy out of the crib, but as always, when she grows, it catches me off guard. Just like an hour ago, when I had her sitting on the “little toilet,” as we call it, and the phone rang. I ran to get it, and when I came back, she was standing up at the edge of the bathtub. All by herself!
And as long as I’m bragging on my children, I’d like to throw in an aside about Alex. As many times as I’ve talked about him singing Superman, I’ve neglected to mention something important…he sings it on key! Now, I distinctly remember the day when I became aware that I was not singing on pitch. I was sitting with my mom in church at St. Pius in Moberly—I remember because we were sitting on the wrong side of church. (We were one of those families that had an assigned pew. Nobody sat in our pew. They knew it was ours.)
Anyway, the point is that I’m sure I was about five years old when I realized I wasn’t matching pitch, and taught myself to do it. To hear my three-year-old singing on pitch just makes this musician mother fit to burst with pride. J
Here are a couple of pictures from our trip to Mackinac Island for the 4th of July.
Kathleen M. Basi 