Bonding and packing


Dorothy told me the other day that “it is hard to have a brother who is always here. I liked it better when he was inside your belly. I liked feeling him kick. I liked that better than seeing him kick.” I managed not to laugh out loud. In spite of the fact that it truly is “hard” sometimes for Dorothy to make the adjustment to being one of two, she also in reality totally loves her brother. I’m confident she’ll realize it later. She is almost losing the ability to play contentedly on her own–she spends the majority of her free time singing to him, playing with him, loving on him, abusing him, putting him in mortal peril. He rewards all of the above by thinking she’s the greatest thing on earth. If she walks away he sobs. I caught this picture of them today, and I love the way they are enjoying each other.

No crafting for us today. The new realtor has ushered in an era of Major Change that is starting with us rearranging our lives so the house will show better and will hopefully end with us unpacking joyfully in a new space. “It is hard,” to quote my daughter, to pack up useful items from our overcrowded kitchen without knowing when we will see them again (my Cuisinart!), but fortunately my experience volunteering with refugees has taught me that I’d basically be a complete asshole spoiled brat to feel too sorry for myself over a relatively minor inconvenience, knowing it is is ultimately part of the privilege of being able to move to a more comfortable home. Hopefully sooner rather than later. So today was spent packing. Appliances, gadgets, mixing bowls and the play kitchen are all destined for storage in an attempt to make our kitchen look larger. And guess what? It totally does. I’d almost buy it myself.

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