Last night's fun thing: bouncing on the big blue exercise ball while listening to music from the
Crazy Heart soundtrack. [It's such good music. It's heavy on lyrics, with just enough twang to make my heart reverberate, aching for those things I associate with Texas: driving on country highways over warm, flat earth with blue skies stretched tight and smooth overhead so you feel tucked into a endlessly large bed; the surprisingly pleasant smells of dried horse sweat and sweet hay dust and manure and maybe a little coffee or beer; favorite jeans that are stretched and worn just right so that you don't ever want to wash them because each wash is one closer to their end.
Not that I was around horses all that much and, honestly, I felt afraid last time I rode (which I'm blaming on the fact that Scott was just months old and I still felt odd in my own skin after pregnancy). And Californians have favorite jeans, too, but mine just wore out, so good jeans = Texas to me.]
Anyway, back to my point: bouncing was fun!
After long trips, Luke and I always feel like Scott makes jumps in development. This time he seems more mature, more content to sit with us for a moment while reading or cuddling. And more affectionate, taking little breaks to give kisses while he tries to figure out how the toy cars roll or the padlock works.
2 comments:
I love that he stops and gives kisses. I mean, that is what you have a baby for, the unabashed baby love.
Ooooohhhh, the baby love. Sweet, addictive baby love. One of my friends told me that the reason, she thinks, that everything gets so much easier after the first few months is because suddenly the baby is alert enough to give love back to you, and that falling in love makes it so ooo much easier to handle waking every 2 hrs and dirty diapers and teeny fits. I think she's right.
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