Both Hands

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On the one hand,

Thomas is in the middle of some sort of wild phase. My trickster boy has the many hands of Shiva. He is a whirlwind, a magician, in all places at once. Pulling the dog’s tail, eating heaven knows what off the floor, pulling books off the shelves, banging his broom on the table, sneaking under the table to fiddle with the heat register, pulling firewood out from the woodbox, grabbing at the record on the record player, dropping his things in the trash can, hitting me or a table or the dog when he doesn’t get just what he wants, weeping and wailing and clinging when he’s not into mischief, all day, on and on, the patter of little feet and babbling, shouting, chanting words he knows, things he wants, nonsense. He is adorable and exhausting. He is curious and experimental and oh so proud of his accomplishments, and this mama is having to take each moment at a time, to bite her tongue against sarcasm and frustrated mutterings since this little one has begun to parrot so many words and to understand so many things. I find myself setting up camp at my wits’ end, tottering on the edge longer than I thought possible.

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On the Other Hand,

I have a new editing job, and an old professor just shared an opportunity for another with our alumni facebook group, so I’ve already sent a sort of inquiry letter. The husband and I are working on spending more evenings reading and fewer on an episode or two of television. I’m spring cleaning my mind, my attitude, my perspective, learning to live in Toddler Time, remembering patience, really paying attention. I have paperwhites and dwarf citrus trees thriving in this woodfired home. We are stocked up on tea, and fresh gingerbread is waiting for us in the kitchen. My son is bold and sturdy and strong and clever and sweet (oh, the kisses! the snuggles! the giggle fits! the spinning sessions in our living room!). I have a whole language to learn (ancient Greek) and a lifetime to learn it. I have a baby-free date with the husband on Friday, and I think I know just the dress for it.

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