Things I Miss. Day 535.

Here are a few:

• Tying balloons for you. Oh, the balloons I’ve tied. Reds, greens, blues, and other primaries. Birthday colors and baseball teams. Purchased from the party store on Western Boulevard in dusty, glossy bags of a hundred. “Mom, please tie this for me.” I complain about it. What is wrong with me?
• Tiny toddler jeans hanging on a clothesline, crisp from the September sun. Baby blankets, too, in hues of blues, greens, and crocheted whites, their waving shade cools the grass underneath. White onsies in triplets and quads, sharing clothes pins on the little hemmed shoulder flaps.
• Warm red cheeks after a nap and puffy eyes and lips. Still tired oversized heads resting heavily on my shoulder, soaking my third shirt of the day with warm drool. Clean light, fresh diapers feel so soft and pudgy bare toes lazily wiggle as you sip your apple Juicy Juice from the plastic cup.
• Freezing cold football games with screaming fans and cheesy nachos. Friday Night Lights with hazy black skies. Pulling sweatshirts and blankets from the bag to wrap each other up tightly. Hot cocoa. Touchdown!
• Chilly summer evenings after you exit the pool. Chattering blue lips and inverted shoulders. The line-dried scratchy towel soaks up the bleachy water as I wrap it around you one time then a half. I hold you close to my chest and share a bit of my warmth, take one small foot then the other in my hand to take away its chill.
• Sunday morning pancakes with the sticky sticky syrup and scrambled eggs. You screech when you’re finished. I run the water and let it run over my hand until it’s warm, soak the washcloth in it, squeeze it out, and soak it again. Gently I clean the sticky sticky syrup from your soft, firm cheeks and nose and lips. Your hands go high and you say, “up!”
• Midnight feedings in a quiet house just you and me. I change your diaper and swaddle you again, then feed you. I grab a pack of orange crackers and peanut butter to fuel me, then stare into your face until you drift away.
• Bright orange whiffle bats and tall royal blue bottles of bubbles and cheap kites and giant plastic bouncy balls. Sidewalk chalk “look mom!” and the scent of pink Coppertone and red freeze pops. Bells on trikes and seedless watermelon dripping down your fresh chin.
• Picking you up from school on Fridays. “Hi Mom!” The way Annie and Yankee would welcome you into the house with wagging tails and long tongues. “What’s for dinner?” and slow settling into our family weekend.
• Literal heaven.