there were three in the tub

I’ve been away for awhile.  It’s the time of year that our gaggle of borrowed teenagers is away, and we are left with only the sounds of our own family.  It’s still not quiet, but there’s a lot less noise in our heads as we have temporarily disengaged from the teenage drama factor and enjoyed the wild and crazy boy factor with some old friends in familiar places.


Little Berg is nine months old today.

I think this is about the time in G-man’s life that I started this blog.  Or maybe it was when he was eight months.  Anyhow, like then, I am always moved by the passage of time, knowing that it only moves in one direction.  Today as I hung laundry on the line while Little Berg rode on my back, I remembered doing the same with G-man in Taos three summers ago.

And when Little Berg fell asleep in the backpack while hiking one of my favorite trails in Edwards, I remembered all the moving naps E-man took as Dave and I, with only one son, went about our life almost as we had before he was born, when we were childless.  (There is nothing remotely similar to our  childless life any longer!)

Like E-man, he loves him some good guitar music, both for dancin’ and gnawin’

Berg celebrated big today with his first bath with both of his brothers.  They all thought it was pure joy. If i caught him while smiling,  you’d see his new teeth.

And if the picture were taken at the bottom of the stairs you’d see him darting to get out the front door or scrambling up the stair case before someone stopped him at either attempt.  He spends stretches of time standing at the window, watching his brothers play.

He’s thinks he’s ready to share a lot more than baths with them.   I have to hold him lots so he doesn’t grow up too fast.  And, fortunately, he’ll still ride around with me all day contentedly.

Grateful.


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