Yes, I still blog. Harumph!

So I've been accused recently of not maintaining this blog anymore. Not accused really ... just my 10-year-old niece, Allie, mentioned to me that her parents were talking in front of her about how I didn't keep the blog up anymore. So, JAY AND DEBRA, this blog post is for you.

Actually, they're kind of right. Between Facebook and Twitter and having a preschooler and toddler and a husband who's constantly trying to show me and read me things from his favorite magazines (I don't kid ... he just walked up to me to show me a house in Mother Earth built from dirt bricks and I had to shoo him away), it's been really hard to get on here and blog. Despite the fact that I promised myself that if I quit my job I would write more. Turns out I meant less. Whoops.

But this morning, Wilder is at his friend Owen's house. Not his first sleepover, but the first where he was actually fully cognizant of the fact that he'd be somewhere other than his own little comfy bed with his parents 20 feet away all night long. A little background: Jerry had shoulder surgery a week and a half ago, and ... OK, I might have been freaking out a little bit about how I was going to handle those aforementioned small people and the one-armed love of my life. And I might have unloaded some of this freak-out on my friend Carmen, Owen's mom, to whom I've become pretty close over the last couple of years. She and I have kids the same age and, though we're not all that alike in some key ways, our differences seem to play well off each other. She's inspired me to be a better housekeeper and I've inspired her to, oh I dunno, probably blow off the occasional bathtime in favor of a cold drink and relaxing moment.

So, anyway, Carmen being the good friend she is, she offered to -- after Jer's surgery -- have Wilder for a sleepover. You see, Owen and Wilder are two peas in a pod. Wild, unfocused and high-spirited boys who often completely ignore the repeated entreaties of their mothers in favor of doing whatever the hell it is they'd rather be doing anyway. They're also both completely adorable and loveable, but just read that last sentence again, and it might explain again why Carmen and I have become so close. We're like foot soldiers together in the war of raising 3-year-old boys who do not listen. I know this applies to practically every 3-year-old boy out there, but trust me that Wilder and Owen bring it to art-form status. If you don't believe me, come spend an afternoon with them. Carmen and I will be glad to help you get over your doubt by going out for coffee and pedicures while you yell, sweat and run your way to confirmation.

So, back to Wilder's sleepover. As of 5 yesterday afternoon, he's been at Owen's. And we've been here. With Hunter. Alone. We took the opportunity to pretend that we're parents of the blissful one child again and went out to dinner. We strapped Hunter into a high chair and ate and drank really strong margaritas and cast looks of pity at the couple near us with their two kids. It was great fun. And we've been enjoying Hunter, whose personality and desires are often overshadowed by his big brother.

You see, people often mistake Hunter for the calmer child. They'll ask me: Is he really always this mellow? (Which I think translates into "How high is his IQ?," because in public, around people he doesn't know very well, Hunter can be quite the mouth-breathing, blank-stared little guy.) And the answer is that he's not. He talks constantly and he LOVES a good game of peek-a-boo almost more than he can stand and you can't take Hunter outside without walking to the opposite side of the block with him (and he's glad to go without you and will have a downright come-apart if you try to turn him around before his little toes are perched on the last square of that sidewalk). He really and truly embraces life with near the level of vim and vigor that his big brother does. It's just that in the blur and noise level that that brother brings to the table, it often gets lost. At least for now.

Just this morning, Jerry and I both got up early to take advantage of our alone-with-Hunter time. I think we were both encouraged and inspired by last night, when we found just how much we enjoyed his company alone. He ran around the house unmolested by his big brother, choosing toys that were not ripped from his hand. Jumping around on the couch w/o being tackled. Cuddling with parents who were not being tugged and body-slammed by another small body. We both wanted more of that. And so did Hunter.

Anyway, I have to cut this short (I know, I know ... it's LONG, but I've been accused of not keeping it up, so I had to cram a lot into one post). But Jerry and Hunter have headed back outside and I can hear the fun being had without me. And that just will not do. So I'm signing off to spend time with my dear little Hunter. Honey, I wish we had more moments like this (not that I don't miss your brother terribly and can't wait to go pick him up), and I'll try to make sure we do. You are such a magical little boy. Don't think for one moment, EVER, that no one notices that.