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Bits and Pieces

Well, we're still in the hotel. Eric's aunt told us that we absolutely needed to stay here, pointing out that his dad hadn't really spent a moment by himself since Rita died. Eric talked to his dad about it, and he agreed that he probably did need to spend some time alone, especially before we had to go back home for good. Eric and Sam are staying out here at the hotel with us tonight, though Eric anticipates staying back out there after this.

Sam muttered something to himself and chuckled this evening. When I asked what was funny, he said, "I was just making a joke about Grandma coming back down from heaven for Christmas!" Then he got serious. "What about Grandma's Christmas presents from Santa Claus?" I told him that she probably had plenty of presents waiting in heaven. He's just catching me by surprise at every turn; I can only hope he's not doing this sort of thing with Ronnie at night when he's been sleeping in his room. Perhaps it's a doubly good thing that he's here at the hotel tonight.

I've been worrying a lot about the fact that this happened at Christmas, particularly. I mean, right now, there's family (us, for example) all around, decorations up to make things feel happier, and a general feeling of life being different. When we leave, when the decorations come down, it's all going to hit Ronnie even harder than it might have. Post-holiday letdown won't help matters, I think. Not sure what to do about that. At least the people who live around here seem to also be aware of that issue, so hopefully they can keep visiting. Mostly, though, I feel guilty that we live so far away. That's nothing new, but it's accentuated now.

Today we went out for lunch with Ronnie. We at at a pizza buffet, where Gabe gorged himself on several adult-sized helpings of pineapple from the salad bar. I've noticed that, while he does have a very varied diet, when he finds something he likes, he tends to binge. Last evening, he discovered a container of pretzels on the kitchen table, and despite our repeated offerings of different foods, he would eat nothing else for the rest of the time he was there. Ronnie even tried to trick him by palming another type of cracker in his hand, pretending to pull out a pretzel, and handing him the cracker; Gabe hurled it to the ground and began hopping up and down as he pointed at the pretzel container.

Afterwards, we went to the price club to browse. Gabe was in full toddler form there; he threw a tantrum each and every time we had to walk away from something that interested him, from the musical instruments to the vaccuum cleaners. "Screeeeeeech!" He'd howl at the top of his lungs, flinging his arms in the air over his head, and arching his back while going limp. I tell you, it was mightily impressive. Eric says it's not nice to say so, but I swear, when he gets going, he looks exactly like a certain comedian:

Am I awful if I can't help but giggle as I try to console him?

Anyway, he screamed the place down until we could get him out to the car, and then he promptly fell asleep - as did Sam. Since there were five of us in the car, I was stuck between the carseats in the backseat, and so, since we didn't want to wake the boys, I wound up sitting there in a parking lot while the menfolk browsed in an indoor farmer's market. Ah, well; I'd have had to stay in the car, regardless, but if I'd been able to climb into the front seat, at least I could have turned on the heater when things started getting a bit chilly.

I'm all random tonight. Need to get some sleep, but my mind is all fluttery. I haven't had more caffeine than usual, either; must just be the trip catching up to me, little by little. Tomorrow night, we're supposed to go out to Eric's aunt's house for dinner; they have animals, including a brand new cat, and a very unchildproofed house, so this should be exciting. It will be good to get out, though; sitting around the house in the evening can be wearing, especially when I still can't get past the fact that Rita's chair doesn't have her in it anymore.

previous one year ago:
I patted, stamped, danced, and directed Sam; I felt like a strange sort of one-man band in the middle of the post office lobby.
two years ago:
I can't believe that I was so incredibly dumb as to believe that procrastinating on this was going to save us money.
three years ago:
"When he's verbal, he'll be able to tell you what's wrong and what he wants," they told me, nodding as though everything would be fixed soon.
four years ago:
Still, I do think we're on the road toward healing, not going the other way.
five years ago:
Call me overly cautious, but that little bulge in my abdomen has infused me with a heightened sense of caution.
six years ago:
He had just gotten the back long enough for a ponytail when I met him, so it'll be quite a change to see him with shorter hair.
In the ears:
Christmas carols

On the Bookshelf:

Gratuitous Sam

Extra Gabe

On hold until we get back


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