Speaking of remembering . . .
Today was Jacque's last day working. Trying to fit childcare into her spastic working schedule wasn't working. Since getting rid of the kid wasn't an option, she had to get rid of the job.
Tonight, I brought over a celebratory dinner catered by Taco Shop.
We inhaled the food, trying to finish before the sausage baby woke up for his dinner.
I told her about my brain damage and not remembering the Landon Lecture I attended.
"How can I just forget something like that???"
Her explanation was simple. "It's because you're twenty-seven! Last year, I was looking at my high school yearbooks and I had no idea what people were talking about when they signed them!"
Great. Does that mean it's just going to get worse?
When Evan woke up, I went to grab him while Jacque fixed his dinner. I was surprised to see he would be eating his dinner from a spoon!
They grow up so fast, right?
Evan even liked me tonight. Usually, he'll like me for about three seconds before his face squinches up and he screams at me until I had him over to his Beloved Momma.
But tonight, I realized he was a gangsta and he realized that I'm the chick who will spoil him for the rest of his life.
So I got lots of smiles and he got lots of "What up, E-Z E? Westsiieede!"
The kid loves to stand--as long as someone is holding him up. But, really, his legs do a lot of the work. I'm pretty sure he's going to walk before he even thinks about crawling.
At one point, Jacque and I were sitting at the table and I was holding him so that he was standing, facing Jacque. I had my hands wrapped around his belly and he was wiggling while Jacque sang to him.
Then I heard a "Glug!" and something warm all over my hand.
Once again, I had been christened.
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