Maybe I've been reading too much "Eat, Pray, Love."
Maybe I've been reading too much. Period.
Last night I stayed up reading by the light of my husband's grandmother's touch lamp. Incidentally the kids are mesmerized by the matching brass touch lamps in her bedroom. Brush it with your pinky finger: On a little. Again with your index finger: It's a little lighter in here. One more time for SUPER BRIGHT. Now off. Bump it with your nose, the back of your hand, breathe on it slightly harder than blowing out birthday candles -- it's magic.
I'd hate to see what "clap on/clap off" would do to them.
And to continue this country mouse tangent, I have to tell you about the first time Madeleine noticed the electronic doors at the doctor's office. She was 18 months old and walking with her chubby baby hand in mine. We stepped into view of the electronic eye. The ubiquitous "clunk" of mechanics I don't understand and then the "swoosh" as the doors began to glide.
My baby, my firstborn, the girl who made me a mommy, gasped. Did she declare the doors to be magic? Nope.
"I scared it!" she said. As far as I can remember this is the first time my eldest declared her own self magic.
Oh to be that powerful and sure. Self-possessed. And able to open doors with a mere glance.
I can't remember where my tangent was going. Nor can I remember which path I left to meander the one in which the world is new through the eyes of my children. Where the Golden Gate Bridge is momentarily disappointing because it's not, well, made of gold. Where a touch lamp is entertainment and comfort food is a pot of pinto beans cooked the way only Nana can cook them.
Maybe I've been reading too much. Period.
Last night I stayed up reading by the light of my husband's grandmother's touch lamp. Incidentally the kids are mesmerized by the matching brass touch lamps in her bedroom. Brush it with your pinky finger: On a little. Again with your index finger: It's a little lighter in here. One more time for SUPER BRIGHT. Now off. Bump it with your nose, the back of your hand, breathe on it slightly harder than blowing out birthday candles -- it's magic.
I'd hate to see what "clap on/clap off" would do to them.
And to continue this country mouse tangent, I have to tell you about the first time Madeleine noticed the electronic doors at the doctor's office. She was 18 months old and walking with her chubby baby hand in mine. We stepped into view of the electronic eye. The ubiquitous "clunk" of mechanics I don't understand and then the "swoosh" as the doors began to glide.
My baby, my firstborn, the girl who made me a mommy, gasped. Did she declare the doors to be magic? Nope.
"I scared it!" she said. As far as I can remember this is the first time my eldest declared her own self magic.
Oh to be that powerful and sure. Self-possessed. And able to open doors with a mere glance.
I can't remember where my tangent was going. Nor can I remember which path I left to meander the one in which the world is new through the eyes of my children. Where the Golden Gate Bridge is momentarily disappointing because it's not, well, made of gold. Where a touch lamp is entertainment and comfort food is a pot of pinto beans cooked the way only Nana can cook them.
3 comments:
Nice blog, you can find some more kids bedroom lamps here.
beautifully said, indeed... I love your blog... I honestly, deeply do.
What the Golden Gate is NOT made of gold? Pfft! I am so dissapointed...
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