Sunday, September 20, 2009

Weekend Stuff

Hmm, that unbelievably tedious post didn't seem to elicit a lot of comments there! I can't believe you all have better things to do than log in to tell me, "Yes, Sarah, that IS a nice shade of light brown/tan you have chosen there!"

Anywhays, I'm basically just typing without direction right now in order to stop my fingers from picking up a SEVENTH square of delicious, delicious cold pizza and cramming it into my mouth, which still thinks it's hungry even though its attached food receptacle is telling it that IT IS FULL. I used to think it was so gross that people ate cold pizza. And then I, um, ate some cold pizza. It is very nice. It's also the only thing stopping Eli from being a little ball of furious misery tonight. Well, that and today's third screening of Cars.

He came down with a sudden cold yesterday just HOURS after being a perfect angel at ye olde cheesy children's photo studio, where I had spontaneously dragged the kids in a fit of optimism that, for once, turned out to be well-founded. They were both lovely, about a katrillion times better behaved than the last time I was struck with the seasonal compulsion to pay a stranger to capture their precious childhood memories. (Memories of, y'know, being stuffed into matching outfits and awkwardly posed back-to-back.)

And speaking of memory-worthy situations ("And the grand prize for Worst Segue Attempt goes to Semidesperate Housewife!") last night Addy was out on the deck playing with one of the balloons left over from my birthday party when, inevitably, it slipped from her fingers and floated away. She burst into such piteous, heartbroken sobs, you would have thought she'd been grievously injured or watched her best friend die or something. "My balloon!" she wailed in genuine grief, huge tears racing down her cheeks. "It's gone! I lost my balloon into the sky!"

I held her and tried to comfort her, but it ended up being her own little self-soothing talk therapy that settled her down. In between hiccuping sobs, she would murmur, kind of to herself, "The balloon is ok? It's with the clouds? It's playing with them?" And I would say yes, that's exactly where it was. "And it is all fine up there, with the clouds?" Yes, the balloon is fine. "Maybe it can see me?" Yes, I suppose it could, I told her. "And I will have another balloon someday, maybe for my birthday?" she inquired, still crying. I assured that indeed she could have another one soon.

"And now tell me, 'Don't worry Adelay, it's ok, your little balloon is all fine," she instructed shakily. I did as told. "And now sing a song that is like, 'Hush little Addy, don't you cry, 'cause soon you will have another balloon...'" she specified. So I made up a song to the tune of "Hush Little Baby." But then it was the weirdest thing. I could barely sing it because I was crying too. And in my head, I was singing to myself, but not really about a balloon at all.

13 comments:

Hillary said...

What a beautiful moment. It's those little times that are the reasons we have kids, I think.

d e v a n said...

The balloon story is so sweet and sad.

Mommy Daisy said...

That would have given me tears in my eyes too. I choke up over the littlest things. I think I'm hiding the tearing up most of the time, but I can't help it. Just the silly moments when I realize my little baby is growing up, that's when I get that way.

Also, cold pizza...Eww!

Scottish Twins said...

::tears::

And I love the color on the family room walls :P

Swistle said...

Oh, beezus, now you've got me going too. Poor little lost balloon. But someday soon, the hope of another.

sagessa said...

I have tears in my eyes right now. I know that it will work out for you and your family. I'm sending you lots of internet love and hoping hard for your future balloon.

Nowheymama said...

Oh, Sarah. *sniff*

Jess said...

Oh, this is so sad and beautiful. I hope you both get another balloon.

clueless but hopeful mama said...

You got me, too. I was all: la la la light happy weekend post la la la sweet balloon story la la sniff sniff *sob*

Shelly said...

So sweet. You got me, too.

CAQuincy said...

Now *I'm* all teary-eyed!

And yes, I do like the colors of your walls and am even contemplating snagging that color scheme for my OWN living rooms walls. If only we could AFFORD paint! :-(

parkingathome said...

I love how you can still call it a "Screening" instead of a "torture fest"

Your balloon story made me teary too....now I know why my mother insisted on tying every balloon to my wrist immediately after I fall in love with it. Of course, that didn't stop me from pulling it off my wrist and losing it in the same way. Maybe balloons are our first experiences with grief and contemplating heaven. Maybe that's why we imagine heaven to be in the sky.

Heaven must have a lot of balloons in it.

Marie Green said...

Oh, how similar, the balloon and the lost babe. Gives me goosebumps. What a beautiful story.

My girls are really good at the self therapy too, which always cracks me up. My youngest will often comfort ME when she's been upset. It's ok mommy. My knee was hurting but it's going to be ok now. I'm going to be all done crying soon.

Um, child? Are you trying to convince ME or YOURSELF?

Hope you are hanging in there, day by day.