This morning, Riley tripped over a toy on the floor. That’s a fairly commonplace event for our gung ho little guy. But this time he happened to be holding a sippy cup in his mouth with both hands. He continued holding onto the cup, which hit the floor squarely and transferred all the force of the fall straight to his mouth.
Happy Birthday to Riley!
They say that time is relative, and I believe it. In blatant defiance of my own temporal perception, Riley turned one year old today. I can’t believe he was ever that small, and yet it can’t have been more than a few weeks ago, can it?
I’m really enjoying being at home with him. I’m so glad I have the chance.
He’s doing great. I could say he’s walking, in that he does take some steps without support, but he’s not yet stable enough to walk everywhere he goes. It won’t be long though. His main problem is that his steps are too big.
He’s pretty vocal, and he likes communicating with us. He parrots us a lot without knowing what he’s saying, but he also clearly and consistently uses words to communicate. He recognizes even more words than he uses himself.
Third Annual BryceLand Wild Plum Festival
Well, the sun has set on this year’s plum harvest. It didn’t seem like there were quite as many plums on the tree as we had that first year, but they were in better shape on average, with fewer bruises and weird spots. Most were on the large side, too, so I had plenty to work with, and got two batches (about 20 cups) of jam from them all.
Looks like I didn’t mention the Festival at all last year. That’s because there was hardly any fruit on the tree, so it was kind of a non-event. Hmm, in fact maybe this one should be the Second Biennial BryceLand Wild Plum Festival instead. Anyway, we’d had a hard storm just as last year’s blossoms came out, and it blew them all off, so the tree got hardly any insect attention.
This year I had to do most of the jam work while Riley was asleep. I was able to do some chopping with him feeding himself in his highchair, though. It’s actually a little more work than I can rationally justify, given how slowly we go through jam, but then we give away most of it. And it’s pretty satisfying to see the finished product.
My grandpa usually makes wild plum preserves too, but this year he probably hasn’t been able to, with Jeanette being so sick. I’ll send them some of mine.
Just a Few Noteworthy Items for Now
Riley’s front two top teeth have just broken through in the past couple of days, bringing the grand total up to five. The next two out from those are almost through too, you can see the gums straining to hold them in. (Still no sign of the second bottom right incisor, but it must be in there somewhere.)
I’ve been taking photos of Riley with my cell phone to send to Laura while she’s at work. I’ve started archiving them in my LJ scrapbook. I like the current scrapbook layout, but I want to add some links in a sidebar or something. This would be pretty easy, except the source code for this style isn’t public. So now I’m thinking I might reverse engineer it, in my copious spare time. 😛 Unless somebody reading this knows of someone who’s already reinvented that wheel.
Father’s Day brunch here at home tomorrow, consisting of huevos rancheros. Mmmm.
My Grandma Betty died Wednesday morning. She’d had cancer, discovered at an advanced enough stage that she decided not to treat it at all. I really respect her for having the strength to make the decision. As much as I love her and wish I had more time with her, I know everyone is happier that she suffered as little as possible. And I’m not sure it would have given her much more time anyway.
I’d known for a few months. She’s always been reticent about health problems, preferring not to worry us. All along, she seemed as emotionally prepared for death as anyone could be. Knowing how she hated to worry her family, I wondered whether she was just putting on a brave face for us all. But when I spoke with her, and especially when I saw her in person, it was clear that she really was at peace with it. She was thankful for her life, and looking forward to heaven. She was always a strong person with strong faith.
I got to see her at Christmas, and I know it meant a lot to her to meet Riley, even though she was already basically confined to bed by that time. It was like a lot of visits in recent years: I felt like we never got into the real substance, we were just catching up on little daily details, and distracted by all the rest of the family. But this time it was probably just as well. I found it easier to keep from crying if I stuck to telling her about Riley and not focusing on the fact that it would, in all likelihood, be the last time I ever saw her.
If I can be called a nice person at all, I have Grandma to thank for teaching me by example. She never had an unkind word to say about anyone. She was always patient and supportive. I remember when I was little, she always treated me like a child in the good ways, like making me feel safe and loved, but she never patronized me or made me feel like my opinion was any less important than anyone else’s. I wish I could have her guidance through my own parenthood journey.
She spent her last days at home, surrounded by family, with hospice care managing the pain as best they could. The funeral is this afternoon, and here I am a thousand miles away. I feel pretty lousy about it, but there it is. Apparently everyone else in my family is there.
I’ve been giving myself a pretty good subconscious thrashing lately for not being a better grandson, and just feeling sad in general because home won’t ever be the same again. But I know that Grandma wanted us all to be happy. So I’m trying my best.