We’ve just finished with dinner. Pax gets up from his seat, walks around the table, pushes my arm away and swings his leg over my lap. As he shifts to get comfortable, I feel his bones settle into place. They feel unusually heavy and…still, in the way that an exhausted child’s bones feel. “Tired, little boy?” I murmur in his ear.
“NO!” he says, popping his head up to look me in the eye. It’s not hard — he’s so big now that his head is almost higher than mine (at least when sitting on my lap). But then he settles again, heavier still. I have a flashback to Baby Pax, fighting sleep in my arms. His body is completely different, but the settling of those little boy bones…that I know.
It’s one of those things — this settling of his bones, the way his body gets so heavy — I know these things like I know how to breathe, like I know the words to most Beatles songs, like I know how my Dad’s hand felt, holding mine. It’s all in there somewhere, in the fog of my brain.
Mike comes over and carries Pax up to bed. Pax is so big now that I can no longer carry him up the stairs. But I brush his teeth, help him into his jammies. He wears rainbow colored Hanna Anderssons, and I will buy him those as long as he’ll let me. We curl up in bed, reading books.
“Mom? How did you know I was so tired?” he asks, sleepily. I think of his bones, of his heaviness. I think of his fat baby face that has almost completely morphed into angles and planes. I kiss his pointy little chin. “Mummies know these things, Pax,” I say. “Mummies can always tell when their babies are tired.”
As he snuggles in, his face in my neck, I think of my mom. She always seems to know when I’m tired, too — from the first second of a phone call, from one glance at my face. Of course, if she points it out, I’m instantly annoyed. Will Pax eventually be annoyed by my insight? I know that someday he will not want to fall asleep with his face buried in my neck.
But…for now, I just breathe him in.
All I want are beige fuzzy coats. I’m 89% sure I came across a picture of Laura rocking this seriously cute (and fuzzy) Patagonia coat and vowing it would be mine (ps. it looked way better on Laura than on the model). Her coat is on sale at Backcountry, along with my beloved recycled faux-fur Patagonia jacket (both are 30% off!!!).
Tradition. I get so oddly excited for my Anthro 20% off birthday code. This year I bought AGoldE’s Riley jeans (the mommest of the mom jeans…and yet they call to me) AND my fav AG Farrah jeans in a cool washed black (just in case I’m wrong about those AGoldEs), and then couldn’t decide on a top. I want something casual and easy, but still a little special, so I ordered this puff-sleeve tee, this waffle sleeve top, and this icy blue cowl-neck long-sleeve. I figure one of them will work. I’ll throw a quick try-on up on our stories (@themomedit) next week.
Works well with low-rise. While I was perusing Anthro, I came across this adorable gray long-sleeve tee that would be especially good with low-rise denim. (And since we always get questions on styling low-rise jeans, I had to share.)
As if I needed more proof the ’80s are back. I tried Faithful’s Marta bikini bottoms with their high-waist and high-cut leg…and, shockingly, loved them. Hmmm. This trend needs more of my attention, I think. Tell me if you’ve tried it. (ps. More sizes available here.)
Move over, Netflix. If you haven’t been following Humans of New York, their latest 11-part story was a nail-biter (and one heck of a good story). Start here.
Forget chocolates: THIS BOOK. Hint: It’s really for your husband. The Mental Load has been described as a ‘feminist comic’ but it’s been a complete game-changer in this household. It’s the one thing that has clearly communicated 90% of my marital stress and frustration over the years, in a way Mike totally gets. You can read the whole thing online, here, but I think having it in book form (on the coffee table, easily read) will do both of us good.
We’re skiing this weekend, and are planning to watch the movie version of Howl’s Moving Castle since we just finished listening to that book on tape. Raines initially complained that it was “boring”…and then was riveted, 15 minutes in. A+.