I am sitting here writing this, with Emma to my left singing “Three Little Elephants” in Spanish. Okay, so you might not know that was what she was singing even if you were a native spanish speaking person, but I know the song, because the tune is exact even if her pronunciation is not. Richard and the children arrived in Aspen last night. To say that I was pleased to see them, really doesn’t sum up my excitement and happiness. I am blissfully happy!
Last night Emma was so excited to be here that she didn’t want to go to bed. As my husband, now to be referred to as the man-of-the-decade (MOD – I tried “century” whose acronym then became MOC and have opted for “decade” simply because of the acronym and not because there’s a time limit on my admiration for him and all he does) was unpacking, I got Em into her nightie and brushed her teeth. When she finally felt it was time for bed, at around 10:00PM (that’s midnight by New York time) she said, “Time for reading and bed!”
“Are you ready for bed, Em?” I asked.
“Yes. Mommy come,” she replied.
I am reading a book written by a wonderfully talented friend of ours – Dan Elish – whose book is entitled “The School for the Insanely Gifted” and Emma is enjoying it immensely, as am I. As I read to her, Emma snuggled up against me, putting her head on my shoulder as I read. I use to do the exact same thing when my mother used to read to me and it filled me with joy. When her little body succumbed to sleep I lay with her, not wanting to move, just relishing her head on my shoulder, her body pressed up next to mine.
This morning Nic and Emma woke at the rousing hour of 5:30AM – in part because the dogs began barking at a particularly tenacious coyote who has a habit of coming right up to the house and yelping. The dogs, in a spectacular display of frenzied aggression twirl around barking and ramming their bodies against the door in an effort to get outside. My mother’s voice shouting from her bedroom, “be quiet!” does nothing to calm them. And in fact, may just rile them up further, though I’d never say this to her directly. The whole thing has a comedic aspect to it – dogs making more noise than one would think possible, coyote howling, children bolt upright in bed, Mom shouting for quiet in a kind of exaggerated stage whisper and Richard covering his ears with a pillow.
Once downstairs Emma and I made chocolate pudding, while Nic proceeded to play his newest composition on the piano. By the way – Piglet – if you’re reading this – any tips on how to keep the instant pudding from turning into soup after an hour or so in the frig? I think it has something to do with the altitude, as this doesn’t happen to us in New York. But I digress… After making pudding, Nic proceeded to demonstrate his newly acquired skill of blowing bubbles and Emma went upstairs only to return wearing her bathing suit. ”Time to go to the indoor pool!” she cheerfully announced.
Nic proudly blowing a bubble
The aftermath of another bubble
“But Em, it’s not open yet.”
“We have to wait. Then going to go to the indoor pool, jump off the diving board, go down the slide, go in the carousel. Go with Mommy?”
“I can go later today or tomorrow Emmy,” I told her.
“Okay,” she said. ”Mommy has to work,” she added in a serious tone.
“How about getting dressed so you’re all ready to go?”
Emma returns wearing her swimsuit and clothing over her suit.
Everyone is together and I am in bliss.
For more on our crazy family and Emma’s journey through a childhood of autism, go to: www.EmmasHopeBook.com