One time while at the dentist's office, I somewhat casually (as casually as one can be in a dentist's office) browsed through a copy of Seventeen, and read a quote where Drew Barrymore said that she remembers someone holding her wrong when she was a baby. It was one of those quotes at the back of the magazine where it shows a picture of the person and their quote in big pink letters, or whatever color corresponds with the person's dress. I kind of wish I had read the quote instead in Newsweek or somewhere that might have elaborated on whether or not that's possible -- for a baby to remember something. I'm leaning towards no, mainly because I my first memory is around age two, and I'm not even sure if I remember that (sliding around in the mud) or if the picture kind of stuck in my head (I have been known to steal some of Kelly's memories by accident.)
I was considering all this during our pontoon ride down the Wolf River because it would be so nice if Lucas could remember it. A beautiful day on the river with his mommy and his daddy and all his grandparents, and only getting doused by a wave once. I hope he remembers grandma Betsy singing "Ching-Chong" to him as we headed upstream, and I hope he remembers wearing matching Panama hats with grandpa and helping steer the boat. Of course, I'm sure he won't. Memory is a fickle thing -- I remember a celebrity quote circa '94 but not most things I try to lock away!
you will never guess what matt found in a car this morning! let me preface this by saying he has found some strange things in cars in the past, most notably viagra and marijuana (fortunately not in the same car - sounds like an unseemly combination if you ask me.) this surpasses both of those. it even surpasses the 3-foot frozen iguana.
he found... (drumroll)... a live person!
a college-aged girl, who apparently was recovering from quite the bender. her only explanation was that she had fallen asleep, so matt said, "okay, well, you better get going now." so she pulled herself together and headed up the highway on foot. not the strangest person to have ever graced the shop, but definitely the strangest find.
*jolie mecanicien = happy mechanic! one of my french phrases!
...he goes crawling to his bisabuelita Lolita, and stands himself up at her feet. She scoops him up and sings him a mix of every lullaby she has ever known. There's Santa Catalina who burns her hand in the kitchen, the hen who tucks her chicks under her wings, Pipon who takes his cane when he goes for a walk, the cat who gave birth to five little goats and one flea, the boy who lost his apple, and of course "2x2 is four, 4x2 is eight" and etc. all the way up to 32 (or at least that's as far as I sing it. Maybe she goes higher?) He gazes up at her with his heavy eyelids and rests his little head, and then he drifts off. So my dad tried his hand at lullabies the other day. Do you want to see?
Lucas loves riding in this metal cart. You might not know it by his expression, as he looks rather serious. It's much more in the way he holds himself. Tall and proud. He points his chin up a bit, puffs his little chest out. He likes to survey the car lot and sometimes brings his daddy a cold Coke while he works on cars. Then he glides back inside, a noble little cowboy on his faithful stead.
Last night I was carrying Lucas upstairs to put on his striped pajamas and tuck him in, and as we walked up the stairs he burrowed his little head into my shoulder and wrapped his arms around my neck. And I walked up those steps thinking about how my dad had walked up them at bedtime, and his dad too. I thought about Lucas's great-great-grandpa nailing in those stairs, making them nice and sturdy, building them to last. I thought about all the men who have walked before my little boy, and how some day he'll be big and strong too. The other day Matt and I laughed looking at a stretched-out Lucas in a curved mirror, imagining him a few feet taller, a few years older. So much to look forward to, but for now, I'm glad he's small enough to cling to my shoulders.