I’m listening to Silas laugh, mumble, moan and groan over the monitor.
He went to his first day of preschool (really Mother’s Morning Out, but you know—whatever) today and so he’s tired but I guess not tired enough.
I cried a little as I cut up grapes for his little lunch last night. I still can’t believe he’s old enough to go to something like that and I guess I was nervous for him.
I also cried a little inside because the next 15 or so years of my life will be spent making lunches for little people.
When we pulled up to preschool today, I saw a dad wiping his eyes in the parking lot. For some reason, this made things easier for me. It’s as if that man cried the tears for me and I was able to go inside and leave my boy to play with no real drama.
I, along with America, drank a pumpkin spice latte today.
I always forget to ask for less pumps of pumpkin spice syrup and so it’s so sweet that only the first five or so sips are really awesome. After that, my teeth just feel sort of hairy.
I’m 23 weeks pregnant.
Mr. Ables and I haven’t chosen a name for Girl Bables yet, but I have one in my mind that I sometimes call her anyway. Which makes me feel secretive and rebellious.
Every time I ask Mr. Ables about a girl name and if he likes it he says “sure.”
He’s said that for Willa, Flannery, Eleanor, and Ruth. But he doesn’t really like any of those names particularly, he just says “sure” to rile me.
A dish just shifted in the sink, and the noise scared F.Cat so badly that he may never be the same. Something in his soul just broke a little.
I guess I’ll go get Silas out of his crib. No Nap Ables, you win.