Do you have any questions?

This morning, from across the room, Xavi leaned around the cereal box on the table and asked me, "Mama, do you have any questions?" If I hadn't stayed up too late last night and was more alert, I would have thought of some good questions right away. But I supressed a belly laugh and said "Oh. No, not right now sweetie. Thanks for asking." He inquired the same of mommy, who asked him why he was so cute. But he answered with "Don't say that mommy!" So, the questions remain unanswered.

Not asleep.

It's 11:21 and he's still talking. He doesn't seem to need anything. He's in his room, chatting. Maybe with Neeny the bunny. Hard to know. Erin was sure he had pooped. But I went in - unzippered the footie pj's - and found that the evidence matched his whispered "no poops" answer to my whispered question. I layed down with him for a while. He reached over, lifted up my arm, and tucked it around himself and then whispered "I cozy." into my face. But he kept on chatting and poking my eyes. So after a bit I left. Not a peep of protest about my departure. Is he going to stay up all night? What do you suppose will happen tomorrow? I don't want to think about it.

the news is changing

So. I've decided that this blog has got to evolve. Originally, it was all about sharing the news about the new, amazing, creature in our lives with his and our far off family. It's still for that. But I've decided to write for a bigger, albeit nonexistent audience. Who am I writing to? Well, who's listening? Perhaps I could find some other mamas, or some other people who care that some families are going to bed tonight in homes with inflated rents but crumbling plumbing, or some poor people struggling to make a tiny budget stretch over rising food prices. Perhaps I could find some other poeple with a minute to read what I'm thinking. Regardless, from now on you'll get stories of Xavi's exploits along with the other rambling thoughts from my mama, organizer, tired brain. I hope it's ok.

And if you were wondering what Xavi's up to? Well, last week he started brushing the hair out of his eyes and declaring, "I look great.".  I'm not lying. He really did that. And Grammy says she didn't teach it to him. Also, I'm sorry to say he has started exclaiming:

"Oh my God. Oh my Goodness. Whoa."

We didn't mean to teach him that.

Xavi in his many elements

Just before I clicked on the  login  button to finally write in this forsaken blog, I read my friend Jen's blog about motherhood on the lost coast. I laughed so hard I cried, and so I've got to recommend you do the same - at least the reading part.

It's been two months since I tried to write anything on this blog. Most of which I spent living in Shushan, NY, population 784, just outside of my hometown of Cambridge, where we were visiting to be useful to my Dad, who has  lung cancer. Cancer sucks, as most of the world knows all too well.

But the theme here is little X. The genius of our lives. He's got a lot to say. Poor guy, today he was exhausted. Jet lag inspired him to wake up the household at 4:50am. And the general confusion of managing the "SEAaaattlllle" house versus the "Shu-shan" house might have kept him up in the would be naptime of the afternoon. Even so, I think both Erin and I would be happy to have two people trying to manage our transition. I think I'd like having someone let me know in advance what's on the horizon. " Next you're going to drink this cup of coffee, and then put your shoes on and walk to work. Ok?"

Anyway, he's still hilarious. He declared yesterday morning that instead of cereal for breakfast he wanted to "Make Hot Bacon! Hot Bacon!" Which he's never eaten, but he must have been warned about one morning at Pop's house. And he nearly leapt out of his high chair when reminded that he could go to the zoo here. "Famiingeyos! Famiingoyes! Beayars!" he shouted.

No doubt there's more to say, but sleep calls.

"Too?"

My son, as I've mentioned, is a fountain of love and goodness. It's a little intimidating sometimes to live with such a creature.  I'm tired, and I'm underacheiving here and there in various aspects of my life, and at the same time this amazing little beast thinks I'm the bees knees.  His newest, most earnest request lately is "too?" said with urgency and extreme sincerety. It translates roughly to "Whatever it is that I'm about to do, would you please do it with me?" It's hard to say no. But sometimes dinner's gotta get cooked, or a website has to be updated, and little X has to accept the cat as a substitute. He and she watched a "petting farm" video together on the couch tonight and when the kittens came on he leaned in real close to her and said "CAT" and pointed at the TV, and said "Too?".