Something to Make Me Smile
In an effort to protect my kids' privacy, I'm trying to keep their names offline. But I can still talk about them -- I'll just use their nicknames. Though sometimes he's "puppy" or "BBB," my favorite nickname for the Big One is "Squooshy Tushy" ("Squoosh Tush" for short or "Squoosh" for even shorter). Likewise, the Little One has multiple nicknames. Since she never stops moving (which, I keep trying to tell her, only prolongs the torture of diaper changes), I quickly dubbed her "Squiggly Wiggly" ("Squiggs" for short)....
Anyway, last weekend we went for a drive. At one point when I stepped out of the car, Squoosh Tush turned to his 15-month-old baby sister and, as they each clasped the other's hand from their respective car seats, he said: "Squiggs, do you want to talk? Squiggs holding my hand. Squiggs want to talk. You know to talk. Will you talk?"
What a precious moment - and I missed it while running a quick errand! My heart melted when my husband told me what Squoosh Tush had said. I was grateful to my husband for having faithfully typed up our son's words so I could share in the moment that had just past, but I was also sad to have missed witnessing it myself. But I'm glad that if only one of us could witness that, that this one person was my husband, as he's missed out on so many of our kids' "firsts" over the past several months -- except for what I've been able to capture in photo or on video, or at least reproduce for him in a text or email.
It's hard for our family to feel "normal" when we're rarely all together. I'm sure it's hard for other families who are together, all the time. In the age of Covid, particularly when we're so distanced from so many of our loved ones, when we're juggling so much (e.g., work and family, or harder still unemployment/income-loss plus family) and just trying to stay sane, it's hard to feel "normal" or "okay." At times like this, I think it's even more important to find joy in the small, everyday life events. For me, this includes seeing my kids reach for or gaze adoringly at one another, and sharing these moments (even if only by text) with their father and grandparents.