The Un-Adult Truth

The house is napping and I am in the basement with the books. It’s a daylight basement, which is really more of a rainlight basement.

Although I grew up in the great Northwet of

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Washington, I have spent just enough time away to gain a nostalgic perspective.
In small towns like Carnation (where I am today) I look outside and immediately remember movies like The Journey of Natty Gann, which then make me think of logging trucks, and big men wearing plaid and big beards.
Or I remember walking  from school like a pencil line connecting the dots of puddles the whole way home….

Staying with my dear friend and her family has been the perfect mix of relaxing and relaxing.

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At the same time, she has four kids, a husband and lives in a very cozy little house. I find myself feeling delighted with the motion (commotion) and movement.This morning I realized that there are many similarities between hanging out with four children under the age of five and hanging out with drunk people. There are a lot of hugs, tears, laughs and “accidents” to be cleaned.
I have been able to make good on my New Years Resolution to hold more babies. The smallest, Jack, is just two months old and perfectly snuggly and amazing.

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The second youngest, Annie looks just like a doll baby and she talks constantly. Sometimes we even understand what she is saying and as a reward for our guessing correctly she gives the sweetest “uh-huh.” The second oldest, Lucy is smart and seems to have a hint of mischievousness in her, though all of them understand right behavior well enough to put us olders to shame. When Mama says something as vague as “make it right,” concerning a wrong done to a sibling, there is then a specific apology, met by an “I forgive you.” The oldest, Peter, is so sweet and smart and, although he has a hard time not talking in a kind of whiny voice, he often has the most clever, unique things to say. Today I taught him the word “suspicious” (what are friends for?) and he says, “I think, perhaps, the bees are spuspicious of Poo.” (Winnie the Poo, please keep up)

The other day in the airport I overheard two older ladies commenting to each other about kids they were observing. One lady said something like,

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“Everything is an adventure when you’re a child.” Then a sigh that spoke volumes. In my head I said, “It doesn’t have to stop then!” The real truth that we Very Mature Adults tend to forget is that living 30 or 60 years on a planet does not make us experts at living. There are way too many amazing things in the world to ever, ever, ever get bored. There are endless adventures to be had and I, for one, never want to lose the wonder that we, sadly attribute only to children.

Anyway, that’s a tangent, right? I’m glad to be in Washington.

3 thoughts on “The Un-Adult Truth”

  1. Thanks for your post – Your brief descriptions of Jack, Lucy, Annie and Peter lead me to wonder if you have found a wardrobe in a dark hidden room somewhere in the home. I’m so happy to know you are connecting with your friends, family and getting some serious baby time.

    1. It’s true! It’s really good stuff. Earlier today I actually thought of double checking that I wasn’t hogging the baby too much, but then I remembered how short my visit is and just kept holding him 🙂

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