Things I want to keep and remember:
Yesterday after supper, I was lying on the floor with baby CJ just cuddling him and squeezing him and kissing him, and he was so thrilled to be the centre of attention, and the other kids were sitting around me enjoying the scene too. Apple-Apple told me to sing the “zoom, zoom, zoom, we’re going to the moon” song, and we did, and then had CJ “blast off” in my arms, flying over my head. He was just busting a baby gut, he was laughing so hard. That was round about when Kevin got home from his training day, and so children ran off to greet him, but Apple-Apple came right back and sat down near my ear (I was still prone on the floor; actually, I was down there partly to play and partly because it was nice to be lying down). “You look so cute, Mommy,” she said. “You look like you’ve gone back to being a little girl again, and CJ is your dolly.”
One more thing to remember: This afternoon I baked granola, and cooked apples (going soft in our cold cellar) down to a rough sauce, which I planned to serve for supper, along with–not on top of!–leftover chicken noodle soup and olive-sourdough bread from the market. As the sauce and soup simmered, just before it was time to set the table and call everyone together, I went into the living-room to nurse a very grumpy baby, and told Kevin the admittedly eccentric supper plan. He will dispute this, but it sounded like he said something critical about granola and applesauce as proper supper items; I will not attempt to recreate his actual words, which, heaven knows, might have been altogether pleasant on the subject. I was, in any case, not in the most cheery of moods, having just spent over an hour preparing this granola and peeling and coring mushy apples, and what I heard was criticism. I growled and marched upstairs to continue nursing CJ in the peace and quiet of the “baby” room, in my great-aunt Alice’s rocking chair … except for reasons unknown Albus was hiding in the dark room and jumped out when I entered with an exuberant and highly effective “BOO!!!!” I replied with a blood-curdling shriek. Baby CJ did pause his nursing briefly to reflect upon this.
So I sat in the chair and announced to poor Albus, who really had only been doing his duty as a child, that I was quitting my job. Those were my exact words.
Of course, after CJ had eaten his fill, I went back downstairs and dished out the supper I’d planned, no one complained, everyone ate happily, and all was well. Albus was on his third slice of bread when he said, out of the blue, “Are you still going to quit your job, Mommy?”
I hope I didn’t worry him too much. We all had a good laugh recalling the BOO and the shriek, and Apple-Apple observed how some things are very funny afterward, even if not so funny at the time.