Hold on to your coasters

If I were still a baby, I think Elliott could be my best friend. What am I saying? He is my BFF in a totally normal and healthy way. His father is also my best friend as well as my best friend Jesie Steffes. They all have different roles as best friends of coarse. Elliott is first and foremost my son which is how it should be. What I'm trying to say is that he is the most chill human I have ever encountered. He watches me do my hair and put on my makeup, staring at me with such perplexity in his eyes. He is perhaps thinking, "Wow, woman are categorically fraudulent." He is pretty smart, so I'm sure those would be his exact words. Watching me work out is another adventure all in itself. I can do a pretty mean roundhouse kick to the jugular, if there ever was a jugular to kick. He silently gawks at me as if an eagle was watching her prey, but instead of the prey being food the prey is the best shindig you have ever seen. I can feel his perfectly round eyes on the back of my head. When I look at him, demonstrating my newly improved pilates move, he sends a smile my way and then immediately returns to his perplexed and concentrated look. It's as though he is trying to make his limbs move the same way in his head, but the physical aspect just doesn't work yet.

Today he was laying on the ground beside me as I was cutting paper with my legs, metaphorically speaking of coarse, and as I looked over, he imitated my exact moves. I think his daddy should take him to do more manly things like squishing worms or eating dirt. Our daily routine is usually consistent, as schedules are the best thing for baby's. It's important for him to know just when to expect me to break out in song and music while stares dreamily up at his home made mobile I fashioned for him out origami cranes. I couldn't have asked for a better audience to my daily life routines. I'm sorry other best friends, but I don't think you could bare sitting through my 45 minute kick boxing routine, and be absolutely amazed by it as he is. I always wonder what is going through his head, and am eagerly awaiting the day he can tell me.

Elliott has many toys that people have so generously donated, or mommy has impulsively bought thinking. "If I were a baby I would love this." It turns out Elliott is more so a dedicated fan of household appliances. His apparatus of choice, coasters. As a wedding gift Christoph and I received MoMa coasters from a friend. They are totally hip, and of coarse they would be if my son were to admire them. They come in all different colors, and as I am partly responsible for Elliott's developmental progress I find it my responsibility as I hand him a coaster to tell him what color it is. In my opinion he favors red, which could very well be the case knowing that children see red as their first color. His second household entertainment choice would probably be the carpet. He would fondle our ugly burber carpet all day long if it meant not having to listen to me do another horrible rendition of "Falling Slowly."

As I sit back and look at my life, it's hard not to think to myself, 'How do I deserve this?' How do I deserve to see my husband holding our son, making him laugh, getting spit up or pooped on? It's so amazing to see who Christoph becomes while holding a miniature version of himself. It makes my heart turn into a thousand butterflies and float away. He is an AMAZING dad, and better yet an amazing husband. I am so blessed to have him. Sometimes you forget how good you really have it. Then you put your little one to bed, hand him his red coaster after a long day of carpet frisking, and couldn't picture life any more perfect.


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