Big News

There's big news at our house. Or, rather, lots of small stuff -- very small -- feels big.

Please wave your hands as you read this to dispel the hovering motes wishing to whammy me when I say anything positive. (WAVE 'EM I SAID OR MOVE ON!)

I went to a baby shower today. When I came home from my three hour absence, J asked for the highlights. I had only one: I felt like a person. (I went somewhere that interested me, on time, dressed in clean clothes, talked about current events, enjoyed myself, didn't rush, didn't keep my cell phone in my hand the whole time...) I don't regret for minute that I have this family that keeps me from attending most celebrations, but I realized today that I have missed those things in my life and that, surprisingly, I still remember how to have fun.

Rooster finished up summer camp yesterday. When I picked him up, his shadow showed me the video she shot of him in the talent show; Rooster got on stage and introduced himself and said, "I am going to perform the Stink Leg Dance!" Yes. The Stinky Leg Dance. The shadow said, "He's going to be okay! If you need me to babysit, give me a call." Children I hadn't met before came to hug the Rooster goodbye of their own accord. Two said, "I'm going to miss you, Rooster."

An old friend, someone I dated in college, got in touch on Facebook to commiserate about our posts about lack of sleep (his due to work, mine due to kids). He said, "I still can't imagine you with kids!" That surprised me. I hadn't told him much by way of details about our roostery family, but his comment kind of opened the door, and I hesitantly and nervously sent him to this blog. It was about 2 a.m. when he sent me a message of kindness and support to say that he enjoyed what he found here.

Here is a huge small thing. I took my son to the dentist. And. He? He? He was a perfect angel. At the dentist. I ... well, I stammered my thanks like an inarticulate goofball as we made our way out. Sure, it's a schmantzy Beverly Hills pediatric dentist who specializes to some degree in special needs kiddos and costs more than your average dentist, but my kid, who usually can't tolerate even a haircut, who howls and flails and kicks his 100 pound speech teacher, my kid sat still, obeyed, and had HIS TEETH CLEANED like a PERFECT ANGEL. He made jokes. He watched a movie and opened wide through cleaning and polishing and flossing. I nearly sent gifts to my friend Rosalie who sent me there, the dentist, the secretary, even the valet who charged me seven outlandish bucks to park for half an hour. AND DID I MENTION WE WERE ONLY THERE HALF AN HOUR?! The dentist started on time, finished early, and, left me woozy with the magnitude of going to a medical appointment that was simply no big deal. That no big deal is pretty gigantic.

And here is the biggest small thing of all. The other night, J and I were getting ready for bed. As usual, we tried to describe a bit about our days. I said, "Our kids were good today." A sentence like that, at our house, warranted an eye lock. We know when we're having a mind meld. Both of us thought, "Have we ever said that sentence before? Ever? No, not ever." Our kids are not bad children. I'm pretty fond of them to be honest! They have wonderful moments. They have beautiful hearts. But never have I been inclined to sum up a day by saying, in general, "Our kids were good today."

Still no sleep in this neck of the woods, my kids had naughty behavior for hours this afternoon, and the air is filthy with smoke and ash from nearby fires, so it's not the most fun weekend I ever had. But the little stuff? Feels pretty big.