With the arrival of Labor Day comes the end of summer. School is back in session, though it didn’t make much of a difference to Freebird and Baba, as they do the same thing they’ve always done. The pools in our town are now closed, even though it’s in the 90s this week and we could easily go after work to enjoy it. There’s simply no lifeguards because they all went back to school. Corduroy and wool are in the store windows, which is alarming visually since, see above re: 90s. I’m still wearing light layers to combat the 100+ degree subway platforms vs. my 10 degree office.

I liked this summer, even though our beach house is rented for the year, and we didn’t go to the Jersey shore once. I also feel like we’re sneaking in a vacation in a few weeks. Since Baba and Freebird aren’t in school, we can go away to the beach in September, which is my very favorite time there. In Jersey, the water is warm and blue and the weather is still nice but it’s absolutely vacant. Not crowded at all - I hate crowded in any venue. So in a few weeks we’ll head to Florida and enjoy the beaches there.

Baba took his first steps on Sunday, so the first of September brought a big milestone. Beach trips are a good idea, and its a pity we don’t have the house at the shore. Freebird learned to walk on the sand because if you fall down, it doesn’t hurt. But maybe the sands in Florida will be friendly to toddling Baba.

I like fall. Hubby loves fall - warm days and cold nights are his favorite. If he couldn’t live in San Diego where it’s in the high 70s most of the time, he’d be happy in a place with perpetual fall. I like fall, especially the beauty of it, and the crisp smell of it, but I’m sorry to see summer end, since I feel like I missed it. We didn’t have a kitchen until nearly July, and because of that project, our ability to finance a summer vacation was profoundly limited. Coupled with writing the book and writing in general, plus travel to San Francisco for a conference, our options were few, leaving me feeling a bit like summer passed me by.

I have to pay more attention this fall, so I can enjoy it more, and be more present in the present.

I’ve been ruminating frequently on the fact that I don’t remember things from when I was 2. Or 3. Or even 4. My earliest memories are very very small and fragmented, and I don’t know what age I am. I remember sitting between my parents on a bench seat of the family car while my dad drove, and I remember singing along with the radio. No car seat. Not even a seat belt, I think. Had to be the 70’s so I was probably under 5 years old. I don’t remember what song, but I do know that one of my childhood favorites was “Forever in Blue Jeans,” by Neil Diamond.

Yes, I was always that cool. Still am.

But I don’t remember things from when I was 2. So it absolutely blows me away that I have whole conversations with Freebird, absolutely hysterical discussions about things, and he won’t remember them. I’m amazed, just drop-my-jaw stunned that I will be the one to remember how much he loves his orange crazy shirt (which is so orange and so loud that I had to find a pair of cobalt blue shorts to pair it with, because if one’s shirt can be seen from space, one’s shorts should be equally as visually startling) and he sat on the bed with me this morning watching “Super Why” telling me that he’s Alpha Pig (with alphabet power, if you’re curious). I’m going to remember so much more of this time than he will, and that responsibility is overwhelming to me more than a little bit. It’s no secret that my memory is horrible. I don’t remember what I was wearing yesterday unless I think really, really hard about it.

I might not remember the specifics, but I do know that I won’t ever forget how fun Freebird is, how funny and happy and quietly thoughtful, how he has my concentration so when he’s focused on something, he won’t see or hear anything else. Drives Hubby nuts - now there are TWO of us in the house like that. I might not recall the specific little bits, but I absolutely adore without limits the pleasure of getting to know my son as he grows up. He might not remember the specifics of this time, but I hope he remembers that we’re having fun. 

For a small taste of what my Friday night was like, check this image out.

Freebird would like Canada to stand on guard for him. Please.

Our health insurance has a deductible. We’re in the deductible range, meaning that if we go to the doctor, we’re paying for it. It’s a discounted rate, but it’s still billed to us. I just realized I have been putting off going because I don’t want to spend the money if my immune system can do the job for me - when clearly, my immune system, as usual, needs a boost of help. I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be for a parent who has to put aside grocery money to buy antibiotics for a kid’s ear infection, or medicine for strep, because they are also paying their deductible. I’m not even going to pretend I have a solution for this problem on a national level.

My own personal problem is that I’m a foolish person who should go to the doctor already and get some medicine and get better, followed immediately by getting over myself. 

I’m shopping for clothing on sale for Baba and Freebird, and one of the
descriptions just cracked me up: “babies are all about kicking back and
relaxing.”

??!!?!!

I’m sick, and my tonsils are huge. They’re normally big so when I’m ill and they swell, it’s like I’m carrying hot ping pong balls in my throat. Ow. Uncomfortable.

I think it’s time I saw an ENT doctor about having them removed, though I hear that the recovery for adults is awful. Of course, I had a c-section and am allergic to most painkillers but I weathered that one ok. What I really worry about is that having them removed will alter or harm my voice, which would make me sad. I rather like my voice. I know, vain of me, but I do. I don’t do anything with it except talk and sing with the radio, but I would be sad if it was altered in a bad way.

But whoa am I tired of swollen tonsils. This just blows. I can barely swallow. Yuck.