I can't believe it's already been over a month since we moved in. It feels more like, you know, last week. We have managed to get quite a lot done: boxes are gone, pictures are hung, stuff is painted, furniture is placed. It's a little overwhelming to finally have a place to put everything; for so long we have been in compact-living mode. Having too many drawers to choose from is such a wonderful problem.
Jason started back to school today; he is teaching tenth grade English at Columbia City High School. Avram is all enrolled in Early Intervention for Indiana and we find out this week how often he will have therapy. He is feeding himself now, like a big show off, and claps for himself after every bite. Needless to say eating a meal takes a bit longer now. He is still doing his funky army crawl all over the place ( he is fast) and loves to stand up by himself. The poor guy wants to get moving so bad, if only his body would just cooperate. He also figured out how to open cabinets this week. Lucky me.
Our life has grown both quieter and noisier all at once. We still aren't quite used to there not being footsteps over our heads, or cigarette smoke wafting through the airways, or hearing music blaring at 2am. No more loud train rides, or horns honking, or flights of stairs to carry groceries up. It is so quiet, so peaceful.
But on the other hand, we are now adjusting to actually seeing people. Like, in person. Regularly. In Chicago, especially after Avram was born, many weeks the only people I saw other than J & Ave were the people at church. Now, we have grandparents in and out, friends to meet up with, brothers and sisters to go visit. I guess I can't get away with wearing my pjs around the house as much as I used to.
Truth be told, I love our increased social activity, because Avram is blossoming in it. Over the last six weeks he has become this totally different baby. Well, I can't even really say baby anymore, because he is looking more and more like a little boy. He is exploring every inch of our new home, becoming so independent and confident in his Adventure Man skills. He is smiling and babbling and interacting so much more. It's like he's been pushed out on to the stage in front of all these people, and he's so excited to show off his best song and dance. He beams.
All that is so wonderful, but it is also so hard. Like I said, we hardly spent time with very many people in Chicago, let alone babies. Now we have been thrust in to the dang Baby Capitol of the Universe. I swear there are more babies here than grown people. Every where we go, babies. And not just babies, but Mega Babies. It seems like there are suddenly hundreds of babies around, doing all of these things that Avram can't do yet; all these babies running around and saying full sentences and climbing on playgrounds and performing scientific experiments. I have always been aware of Ave's delay, but it has felt a little more...in my face.
My grandma frequently says, "What difference does it make when someone is 20 years old if they first walked when they were nine months old or eighteen months old?" I know there is a lot of wisdom there, and I know that he is going to do all of those things when he is ready to do them. Maybe because Chicago was so diverse, or because we spent so much time at Children's with other kids with big challenges, or because I was in denial, but it feels a little more like we stick out here, like other moms give us the "look" because our big buddy isn't walking yet (and he is BIG. Seriously, like bigger than some two-year olds.).
Despite my insecurities and fears being a little exposed over the last month, I have never been more excited and proud to be Jason's wife, to be Avram's mama. I've been hanging up a lot of pictures the last few weeks. Looking at some of our wedding pictures, I feel like I look so young, so naive, so blissfully unaware of the struggles and sorrows ahead. I hung some pictures from soon after Avram was born, and we look so tired, so fearful, so sad: our eyes give everything away. Then I started to hang up pictures from this summer, and I think I caught a glimpse of hope, of happiness, of peace in all our faces.
We are home,
we are together,
we are in a good place.
Photo by Betsy King