More fun pics

Here are a few pictures from the end of July. A little late, I know, but I finally got them off of the camera!

Brain Fever, Maybe?

We here in Portland have been hunkered down and barricading ourselves against 90-degree weather the last few days. Matt put in the AC unit Monday evening in preparation for the Heat Wave. I do feel a little ridiculous admitting we waited until August to put it in, but this is Portland. At any rate, the boxed-in AC unit occupies half the living room window, the blinds are drawn as far down as the AC unit will allow, and the curtains frame what small square of window remains, so that there is only just enough glass to look out from if one sits on the end of the sofa. As ugly as the AC unit is, (Matt and I got it free off of craigslist,) I rather like the effect. Spending quiet hours nursing there in the cool half-light, drinking coffee and watching the little Mexican neighbor children play in the parking lot, I start to feel vaguely like a queen alone in a high tower. Or perhaps a veiled lady peering out of her curtained litter in Arabian Nights. Ah, yes--I have a Highly Active Imagination, if you can't guess.

And it's been precisely this that has gotten me in trouble a few times lately, today included. Here's what happens: James will fall asleep for a nap, and, giving a little inward "Whoo-hoo!" I will proceed to go do something non-baby-care-related. This afternoon, in particular, I sat down to check my email and visit a few favorite blogs. After a while, I suddenly realize, "Man! That little guy sure is sleepy today! I would have expected he'd be up 20 minutes ago...." And, looking over at my silent little white statue of a sleeping baby, THAT is when the temporary insanity kicks in. (As I have been reading "The Screwtape Letters" lately, I can even imagine the black little imp perching on my shoulder and breathing paranoia, like a cold, wet fog, through my soul.)

"He sure is sleeping QUIETLY, isn't he??? TOO quietly..."

So I do the stupid, terrified, first-time parent thing to do: I poke the baby.

And of COURSE he wakes up and cries, thereby ruining whatever little bonus time I might have had to begin with. What did I expect??? Still, even though each time I am temporarily frustrated with myself for falling for the same old trick, one more time...the relief I feel at seeing that peaceful little face screw up and grow cranky at me outweighs any and all frustration. He cannot know what I never guessed, that even parents experience moments of profoundly childish fear. As I reach for my son to soothe his troubled cries, I am simply grateful that he is still there, still real, still mine.

Quick Pics

Just a few quick pics...