Tuesday, August 19, 2008

:: :: i miss you :: ::

We’re home in Rochester this week. It’s good to be here. Every minute we’re here reaffirms our desire to move back. Every place here has history to us. Every memory holds within it a future experience for Evan. As we were driving down to my dad’s place on one of the Finger Lakes yesterday I couldn’t resist telling Evan about all of the adventures he’s going to have when we move back, even though he doesn’t really understand future tense yet. Every time we drive up to my mom’s house, where we’re staying this week, I point out markers along the road: “When you pass MacGregors, Evan, you’ll know we’re almost there.”

Some mothers overbook their children in music classes and gymboree classes and playgroups and baby tai chi. I’m afraid we’ve already overbooked Evan with future canoe trips with Gramps, hikes to “the notch” with Grandpa, trips to the petting zoo and rides in snow plows with Grandma, trips to Abbotts with Grammy for ice cream sundaes. And don’t forget learning to snowshoe and waterski, picking apples and eating donuts, riding bikes on the canal.

This kid’s going to be busy. Like, really really busy.

Which is how we are this week, sort of. It’s a lazy kind of busy but it’s busy nonetheless. There are cousins we want to see and great aunts and uncles. There are shoes that need to be bought, stat (Evan grew an inch and a half in the last month and a half and his feet are keeping pace — his little heels now hang off the back of his sandals and his toes are scrunched into his Robeez). There is food to be consumed and conversations with parents to be had. There are six books between us that probably won’t get read and a quilt that needs its binding finished. Plus there’s the Olympics. Oh, the Olympics.

But I do miss you when I’m here. I miss your blogs and your comments here and your emails. I miss writing to you. I miss having the time to sit and reflect on my day. But it’s OK. We’ll be together again soon. Until then I’ll keep composing blog posts in my head and knowing I’ll forget them all once there’s time to sit down and write.