You know that silly giggly thing that Pee Wee Herman does? That hiccupy, heel-kick-sounding sound? When typed phonetically, it would make one’s fingers corkscrew and spring off the page like T-I-Double-G-er. Better yet, it’s the sound that millions of fairies’ buttery yawns create when orchestrated in unison. And if you can imagine all that magic, Mr. Herman included, you’d be close to hearing Evelyn’s sound when she jumps in anticipation, or is in the grips of play. The sound is like a tic but only abundantly wanted. Thankfully for me, society or development hasn’t yet purified the hippity-hoppity sound out of her.
It’s day two without training wheels, and Evelyn boasts with each circle she makes around the drive. Shannon the neighbor and I waved and I filled her in on Evelyn’s accomplishment in a voice loud enough to reach her, from the 300 level to the field. Evelyn stopped too, stomped both feet as if she were planting a flag on the moon, and boomed too, “Yeah. I’m just doing that all over now.”
With the day I progress noted, parented, ate, cleaned and painted making it impossible for my to-do list not to follow me into free time like a shadow. But tonight I’m making it mine. Right up until Evelyn said no to teeth brushing time. Usually, I’m not above using the shame of the dentist’s disapproval as a scapegoat. But since I’m on a happy parenting goal kick I chose to do nothing.
Soon after, she pressed the tips of her toes on my laptop screen, and I felt a temperature rise within. But at her “What are you doing Mama?” I played it cool. “Reading,” I said, pulling open a page, separating myself like a kite into the air, and rerouting myself to the book’s New York City scene.
Was it one minute later, she ran her little hiney – unprompted, undemanded, and unanythinged – to that bathroom? And proceeded to do the things Dave and I usually have to help her with. Cohabiting as peaceful as Monk’s sleeping, that’s what it was like.
Part of my happiness plan is not to get in my way. In bed typing usually means I’d stay here with wet hair while playing my Total Battle game. But now is not the time for drifting off into oblivion! Nay! Now is the time to act. So I dried and straightened my hair, and switched the laundry to the dryer. It’s the little things that feel like everything.
And lastly, I’m noticing something interesting about myself. Something surprising. I’m not a fan of people. Just people standing there, like mailboxes, are not great. Now relationships on the other hand, I really like those. Relationships are like Coldstone ice cream, all slathered on a stone of iciness mixed with all the sauces and toppings you want. I’ve only been to Coldstone once, so that’s likely a bad analogy. Do they put toppings on the stone, or does that come later?
I love seeing how much I’ve grown as a writer in the past couple of years. To reread my past’s short and sweet posts, I see timidness, like cute animals that keep poking their head out from behind a tree. I’m imagining a ferret or weasel-type animal, maybe even an otter. Button nose, whiskers. Speaking of whiskers! Evelyn changed “What the heck” to “What the whiskers!” So please start using it. It is the cutest dangest thing, and using it frequently is definitely on the path to happiness.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 