Manny got a drum set yesterday. Sam's co-worker at G2B found it free on the side of the road and gave it to us. So with great joy, Manny rocked out with his chopsticks for an hour before dinner. I don't find the sound of it the least bit annoying (ask me again in a week). The sounds I can't stand at 5:30pm are the shrieks of children attacking each other with diggers and their own fingers. Two year old drumming is loud, but it's productive.
When Sam went to get Manny this morning, Manny was laying on his bed, wide awake and content. Sam said, "Have you been up for a while?" "Uh-huh." "Were you thinking?" "Uh-huh." "What were you thinking about?" "Drums."
Manny has also been playing/pounding the piano a lot lately. Who knows if he has any talent, but I am excited to give him opportunities to explore music.
On Monday night, I took him to a Daniel Berryman & Friends concert. It was at 8pm and Manny usually goes to sleep by 7:30, so this was a big deal. It was only his second time ever that he has gotten to stay up late for a special event.
Earlier in the day, I took him to the Counterbalance Barber Shop up here on the hill, so he was looking fantasically handsome. After dinner, he took a shower while the girls bathed and Sam dressed him in nice, clean clothes. The shirt was a Max Vance hand-me-down (meaning it was hip and without stains) and the sleeves fell below his knuckles. The jeans were also just a hair too big, but he looked like he might grow at any second, so it worked.
As soon as we put the babies to bed, Manny began to prance down the hall. "Come on Mama! Let's go Mama!" I told him I needed to change my pants, so he ran down to our closet and handed me a pair of Sam's jeans. "Here you go!"
We arrived at the Good Shepherd Center just in time to go potty and grab our seats. For the next hour, Manny sat on my lap and listened to Daniel and three of his friends sing, half the time performing opera in foreign languages. He watched intently and clapped with enthusiasm after each song. I kept revisiting my escape plan, in case he started to shout, "Mama! What's happened?" or wiggle out of my arms, but it never happened. The four performers were amazing, but I kept wondering why the audience wasn't applauding my son, for I felt he was the most astounding person in the room.
Elena is getting fast. She's going to be running any day. And Glory can walk across the room now. She holds her arms out to her sides and wobbles back and forth like a zombie. The only difference is she giggles the whole time. Maybe if zombies did that, we wouldn't be so scared of them and I would enjoy those movies more.
Incidentally, Manny was supposed to go to the dentist for the first time this week, but I couldn't get my act together and ended up rescheduling. When the receptionist put me on hold, I got to listen to a segment of George Michael's Faith. What is it about George Michael and dentists? It's like that album inspired a whole generation of young people to pursue the drill. Once, while I was having a cavity filled, my previous dentist's office was playing the musak version of George Michael's I Want Your Sex. I thought that was one of the more absurd moments of my life.
That is until I had two babies giving each other a smackdown over who gets which nipple and then swapping back and forth every ten seconds. I think it might be time to wean.