Thursday night ramblings

Today was such a nice day.

The weather was stunning.

Taxman took a paternity day, which was really like vacation--except that I desperately needed him to help me escape the one-two punch of staying out of the path of our cleaning lady and the water shut-off.

We went to the zoo for the first time in ages. We bit the bullet and became members, because as soon as Miss M turns two it will become ridiculously expensive for us to go as a family. And we'll be back...soon. Miss M loved the zoo. We saw the tigers, the polar bear, and an indoor butterfly garden. (Taxman and I would have been happy with just the butterflies!) Plus, we rode the tram that goes across part of the zoo; Miss M was so enthralled she repeated "traaaam" for about 20 minutes. It was fun. Taxman and I were just happy that she was so happy, and I was so entirely relieved that I could share the toddler parenting joy on a weekday.

Some random thoughts from today:

1. I swear I am not trying to be snotty in the name of babywearing. I am just curious. We saw about 12 gazillion strollers at the zoo. We didn't take ours. AM was in a pouch, and Miss M was on Taxman's back in a Kelty Kids backpack. We've been to a few other zoos with Miss M before (always with a carrier, never a stroller), and I always have the same question: What do other parents do at the zoo? Take the kids out at every exhibit? Snap in and out and hold them in-arms? Because to leave the kids in there has got to be kind of boring for them, seeing as how the action is often above stroller-eye-level. Anyway, Miss M's eye level was a couple of inches above Taxman's so she could see everything and had a great time pointing out the tiger, the ducks, the fish, the turtles. And the traaaam, of course.

2. Bloggable conversation of the day:

OneTiredEma (Noticing tan spots on the inner thigh of AM's outfit): "Is that poop or tahini?"

Taxman (Wiping the remains of a falafel off of his hands): "Oh, that's totally tahini. Wait, no, sorry; that's hummus."

3. Too little, too late?

All the parenting magazines go mushy when they describe the overwhelming feelings of love you will have when your little sprite says "mama" for the first time (referring of course, to you and not some other thing). I forget when this is supposed to happen. Ten months old? Twelve months old?

Anyway, today was the first time--ever--that Miss M called me Ema. Just yesterday she woke up crying from her nap, and when I went to fetch her, I caught her signing Ema (ok, "mom") to an empty room.

Taxman was so excited. I, strangely, wasn't. I don't think that I had entirely given up on being called Ema--and it could totally morph into Mommy the second she goes to pre-school--but I suppose part of me had had to let go of its importance. It's just a name. There's no question that she's known who I am since very early on. Kind of the way that Baby AM knows who I am now. I am the one with the breasts.

4. The breasts, they are confounded. I am almost positive that AM is having his three-week growth spurt. There has been a lot of nursing and a lot of sleeping and a lot of fussiness in the evening. Sometimes all of these things at once--or at least in rapid succession. There is a lot of milk happening, and sometimes he falls asleep smack in the middle of the festivities. And then there is milk all over the place. Sopping wet shirts (mine), milky face (his), things dripping (both of us). It's been a long time since I had to wash my bras three times a week. I haven't missed it.

Everyone else is sleeping. I should be, but I am enjoying the quiet and the almost imperceptible breeze through the wide-open windows. Happy spring, at long last.