The Rise & Fall of the Boob Civilization
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Like Apples & Watermelons

This weekend, Noah formed a deep emotional attachment to a watermelon. He does this, from time to time. Becomes entranced with a food object and carries it around the house, having drawn-out imaginary conversations with a can of black beans or declaring his unending love for a hard-boiled egg. It's a love that transcends mere taste, of course, because he will never, ever actually EAT any of these foods. I mean, gross. And also, are you some kind of monster? Why don't you just fricassee the damn dog, while you're at it.

Usually, we just wait the infatuation out, as long as we're talking non-perishables. (I put my foot down once and sent his slice of American cheese off to live in the refrigerator where it could run and play with the rabbits and lunch meat.) But this time we really, really wanted that watermelon.

I mean. EZRA really, really wanted that watermelon. Your brother did it, Noah! Your brother KILLED YOUR WATERMELON.

Ez watermelon 1  

And then he ate its flesh while you flailed on the floor in helpless fury.

Ez watermelon 2

And your parents photographed the flesh-eating, declaring it all kinds of adorable. Your family is MESSED UP, I know.

It was a tough weekend, all jokes aside. Ceiba is throwing up again and we don't know why. Noah is giving back some of the gains he made this summer, which at least reinforces our decision and determination to send him to The Preschool (yes, it is going to cost more than we originally thought, because he needs more individual therapy that we thought, but at least THAT we can go to war with our insurance about, and is something that isn't set in stone for the entire school year.) After having discussions with the actual school directors, I no longer feel like we're getting the hard sell, but rather have met people who GET IT, who GET HIM, and who are going to move heaven and earth to help him. We have an appointment with a new developmental pede and the knowledge that it's always worst at times like these, right before a plan gets set into action, right when we're pinning our hopes on something just around the corner, trying to hold on through a service-less freefall, bruising like peaches along the way.

I re-read Noah's very first county evaluation -- he wasn't even TWO, for Christ's sake -- while photocopying it for The Preschool and remembered how it all started with a few little words, just not quite enough words, and how terrifying it all seemed back then, even though I had no idea that we were just at the tip of the gateway iceberg. I had no idea what we were in for. I probably still don't.

Noah likes to stall at bedtime. Of course he does. He runs through a standard litany of tactics -- a drink of water, potty, he's unplugged his nightlight or dropped something under the bed -- but he always ends the night with the same last request. "I need a cuddle!' he announces from the top of the stairs. "Hey! I need a cuddle! Come on, let's cuddle!" And downstairs we groan, because it's late, because the couch is so comfortable, because True Blood just started. And then one of us obliges -- of course we do -- and goes upstairs for a cuddle. He puts his arms around my neck and requests a song, or whispers a secret, or just curls up closely for awhile before drifting off to sleep, and every night I am reminded of why I wanted children in the first place, all over again.


By Sunday Noah had forgotten about the watermelon. Jason took him to the grocery store, and this time, it was an apple. Oh, look at this wonderful apple! It's the greatest apple I've ever seen! The fruit was so bruised and beaten and over-handled by the time they made it to the register that the cashier double-checked that Jason was sure that he really wanted that dented-up apple, that he didn't want to put it back and get another one. Jason opened his mouth to explain, but then he laughed and simply said yes, it was okay, it was exactly the one that we wanted.



I am so very glad that you are getting exactly the one you wanted.

Deanna B

The watermelon murderer is adorable. The cuteness is overwhelming.


The apple bit totally made me smile.


That is all very cute and all...but while you are on the topic of True Blood...

Holy Hell! Weirdest/best/craziest episode ever!


I'm sorry about Ceiba. The flesh eating is all kinds of adorable.



I love being a mom, too.


Glad to see you know they are the ones for him. Disregard previous comment. *hugs*
Stay the course.


This weekend, our 6-year-old came into the kitchen with his new friend, Cookie. "I was going to eat him, but then he talked to me." Given that he did absolutely no imaginative play before OT, how can we say no?

Pinkie Bling

See, THIS is the kind of stuff that kills me, that makes me pretty sure I DO want kids, as long as I can find the RIGHT FREAKING MAN to have them with!!!

Ahem. Sorry. Back to your lovely family: I am so happy for all of you. I know that it's difficult right now, but I also fully believe that it will all work out, and through everything, you always have each other. That is certainly something to celebrate.

Best of luck! I will be here reading about the improvements around the corner, and cheering you all on...just as I am doing now.

samantha jo campen

Oh GOD I'm so sorry about Ceiba! What is up with that? Grrr.

But the children you have there are absolutley delicious. Happy sigh.

jive turkey

Oh dear god. The apple thing. You got me with that one.

Ms. Tart

Oh yes, the bedtime routine. I sang Happy Birthday and Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer every night for seems like at lest 4 years.


A few weeks ago my DS carried around a large box. That he named Bolt and declared was his "BEST Friend". He slept with it. My Mom said "that boy needs a sister". Ha. Kids are weird. Really.

Sprite's Keeper

Damn you and your metaphors! *sob*
I want watermelon.

Sarah @

I'm sorry to hear about Ceiba; I hope that she's feeling better soon!

And good luck keeping Ezra from that apple. At least it sounds like it's less appealing than that watermelon. I mean, really, can one be expected to refrain from watermelon in the summer? Is that even AMERICAN?


You are such a talented writer. This is my favorite blog, no contest. Keep up the good work - we're hanging on every word!


Fingers and toes for Ceiba.

Jessica (@It's my life...)

See? This is why I come back to your blog day after day when most of the others in my reader are wallowing in neglect. It's because even in the middle of heartbreak and anguish you still manage to be the most poetic person I read.
May unexpected pennies rain from the sky... you know, without hurting anyone on their way down.


Your beautiful words made me cry. Loved this post. Aren't we all bruised apples, just waiting for someone to get us, to love us - with our quirks and all. You are such a good mom. Thank you for sharing a glimpse into your world.


Baby...eating...watermelon...too...cute...cuteness...making me...weak...

Girl Friday

I think you are brave. When I'm a mom, I want to be one like you.


I once had a pet brussels sprout- it lived in a little plastic container that I filled with water and I took it for walks. I'm pretty sure I was about Noah's age when I did this (God only knows how many days I got to do this before the sprout "retired"). If nothing else, it gives him great stories to tell later in life when professors want to know something weird or unique about each student.

I'm glad you're sure that you made the right decision about the preschool. There's no feeling worse than second guessing yourself.


I'm really glad that the preschool decisions seems even more right. And I'm so glad that they get Noah and are genuinely wanting to give him the best possible help.

Loved the apple story. And the cuddles.

I'm wishing the mitten a speedy (and inexpensive) recovery.


I want to eat Ezra. And Noah. And I think you should write a book because I could read what you write all day. In fact, sometimes I do... in a non-creepy way


Isn't it amazing with kids how you think you have given everything you've got, you just have nothing more to give, and then they want that cuddle and their sweetness and cuddliness just gives you all new reserves? Wow. Motherhood, man.


OK, this is actually for the nursing post. Hi! It's me! The crazy mom who emailed you in tears b/c my mother-in-law told me I caused my baby's nursing problems with a pacifier. Anyway, my sister told me I should get an award for desperately working to nurse. She proposed the Golden Bra Award. Because you were so kind to me, and so brave to share your nursing stories, and give me so much hope that I can better nurse a hypothetical next baby, I will share this award with you. Congrats! I think?

(PS- still nursing. 5 months! I win! Baby is fat now. Um, not from nursing, but we're still trying!)


In all of that, if nothing else, I'm pleased that you're feeling more confident in your decision about preschool. I mean, one less thing to second-guess yourself about frees up some mental energy for the other stuff. Like enjoying Ezra nomming that watermelon.


Love the apple story! My now 10 yr old son was about 3 when he took one of those coupons from the dispensers in the supermarket aisle. He named it Coupondy and carried it around forever. I miss those days!

Amy in Oz

Aaah, kids are so weird. And funny. Our nearly-2 year old has a small flat rock that her Night Light Bunny takes care of. She doesn't need to play with it or anything, but MUST pick it up every night before bed, comment on how 'cooooollllld' it is, if it's lucky it gets a kiss goodnight ('Mwah!') and then replaces it precariously back in NLB's arms. All ready for bed! Oh yeah, goodnight Mum & Dad, whatever....


Oh I'm so glad that after your tough weekend, there is some calm. I wrote you an email I was so worried about your Twitters, but it sounds like you are at peace, which is awesome. And I love your stories --- apples, watermelons, and beans. Why would you eat them, when you can CUDDLE them!


Yeah, my 2.5 year old is currently in love with 2 sponges, unused of course. He calls them bunges, which just about breaks your heart in its cuteness.


I know the comments are usually due to the content that you are writing about, but, wow. You are not only a gifted writer, but an amazing story teller. You can take a simple trip to a grocery store, weave it together with other random happenings and create such a beatiful story.

My 19 month-old daughter likes to lick everything we put into the grocery cart. Everything. I'm afraid of what kind of metaphor that might be.


See, now, this right here is what makes sheer awesomeness. You have the "I am totally exhausted with momminess, but omgwtfbbq, there are apples and cuddles!" Or is it cuddles with apples? Eh, it doesn't matter, only that there is no charge for awesomeness. Or attractiveness. Cheers, Amy.


See, now, this right here is what makes sheer awesomeness. You have the "I am totally exhausted with momminess, but omgwtfbbq, there are apples and cuddles!" Or is it cuddles with apples? Eh, it doesn't matter, only that there is no charge for awesomeness. Or attractiveness. Cheers, Amy.


that's quite an attention span for fruit that Noah has. I look forward someday to reading his own stories and descriptions someday that he writes - I'm sure he'll have a great knack for detail!


Thanks for this post. Of all the days, I needed to be reminded of how fabulous it is to have two wonderful boys - and how truly lucky we are.

Sometimes it's hard to remember that one day, they will no longer be calling for the cuddles...and we really should enjoy them while we still can.

another Amy

I just came downstairs from my wonderful three-year-old bedtime cuddle session. I know exactly what you mean. :)

another Amy

I just came downstairs from my wonderful three-year-old bedtime cuddle session. I know exactly what you mean. :)


WOW!! I am so glad to see that I don't have the only child that falls in love with produce....

Hang in there! You're doing a wonderful job with Noah. And Ezra? what else is there to say except NOM NOM NOM!!!


You made me cry. Crap.

I mean, great post. :)


I love Ezra's "wings" above his cute.
Love the apple story. Great post! I hope that Ceiba is on the mend.


that last paragraph was stabby to my heart. i just adore noah, have never met him, yet am a fierce advocate of holding onto a can of beans as though it were the best thing ever. because noah is just NOAH. and sh!te, i love him just how he is. eff the rest of the world, amalah. (tears; gah...)


Jason's got it right. Sometimes all you can do is laugh and say it's okay. Because any other explanation would just take too long.


great post! love the glimpses into your world with noah and ezra.

feel better little pup! I hope you have pet insurance. :-)

Cheryl S.

Aside from a semi-unnatural attachment to fruit, Noah sounds exactly like my daughter (who has no issues that I know of). You should have been at my house yesterday evening for the Great "We have no ice cream" meltdown of 2009. Insanity. Followed closely by the "let me think of everything under the sun so that I don't have to go to bed" performance. 4 years old seems a bit of a challange so far. But, I agree, they're worth it!


I end my nights that same last request. RIght on, Noah.


just- awesome.


We fell in love yesterday with a tiny, beautiful watermelon at Whole Foods yesterday. It cost $2.50 and we came home and shamelessly sliced it and ate it. YUM!

My almost 10-year old does the same stalling thing at bedtime - and most nights I go back for one more hug or kiss or tuck-in, because I realize in a few years he won't even want to talk to me, and I have to enjoy this all while I can. And I just want to say thank heaven for my DVR!


Good for you for buying him that apple!!!

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