Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Caleb Is a Praise Sponge

It's been raining the last two days. Phil spent some time researching how to prevent the driveway from washing away any more. I don't know that he found answers, but it's a reasonable question.

I've been reading Cheaper by the Dozen to the boys, about the family with twelve children and unconventional parents. There are times when the boys laugh so hard they can hardly breathe, and I laugh so hard I can't read. It's dated, and not overly well written, has some mild profanity and off-color humor; but for all that, it is a hoot.

Caleb started to crawl today. I suspect he'll still ooch around on his belly some of the time, but we praised him for his crawling, and he is a sponge for praise.

Last week I taught him to raise his arms at the question, "How big is Caleb? Soo big!" He always smiles a beatific smile, impossible to resist. But if I'm holding Caleb while Phil and I are talking, Caleb puts his arms up. We are easily distracted. The baby gets his fill of praise.

After a couple of weekends of such excitement and rich interaction, I'm finding myself compulsively checking email, and counting down days to the next party, the next social gathering. I had friends in Boulder who would stop by and see me every week; I would go down to see my family a few times a month; we hosted people weekly for four years, and had others over regularly.

As long as we were in cramped quarters, I didn't notice the lack of visitors so much: I was staying sane in slightly insane conditions. But now that I've had a taste of interaction, I crave it and long for it. And without it, I feel, dare I say, lonely.

I wasn't expecting that.

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