8-2-07

I had to turn off the news. Everyone is talking about the bridge collapsing in Minneapolis, and all I can think about is how hard it is to get a baby out of a carseat, and nine times out of ten Asher is with me when I go somewhere and ... it's more than my nerves can take.

So. I'm changing the subject. Two things:

1. Wouldn't it be FUN if there was a Harry Potter theme park? Seriously that could be as good as Disney World. Diagon Alley, The Enchanted Forest, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, 12 Grimmauld Place, a Quidditch match ... and stuff could magically appear, and they'd serve butterbear and have rides and ... I would totally go. I've decided I prefer Books 1-4 to the last three. It seems to me that there were four episodes, followed by a trilogy. I like the episodes better. But I'm not kidding about Harry Potter World (though it would need a better name than that). If you build it, I will come.

2. It's eerie, the way that mothers know their children. Irritating to a child, magical to a parent. Remember the 4th of July in 1998 when Brian and I wrecked his truck? His mom asked us not to go to the lake that day. She had a bad feeling about it. Of course we went anyway. More recently, the weekend that my sister and her now ex-husband split up, my mom woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of my sister as a young child, standing at the foot of her bed, calling for her. She knew her daughter needed her before she knew why. Eerie.

When I was pregnant with Asher, I made two predictions about him. The first was that he was a shy kid. I don't mean shy as in socially awkward; I just mean, an observer. More withdrawn. It's been true since the day he was born. We had to run people out of the hospital after the first two days, because he had become overwhelmed with all the company. As an infant, if a stranger got in his face, he would scream. He prefers to watch before he acts; he has to make up his mind about a person before he'll squeal or laugh around them. He's a happy baby, but already a thinker.

The second was that, in utero, he was sleeping with his knees tucked under him and his bottom sticking up. As soon as I started to show, my stomach was lopsided. I swore it was his bottom, not his feet, that were poking out. This prediction was a little harder to prove than my first one, because, really, how could I know for sure? And who's going to argue with a pregnant woman about the position of her baby? I'd really forgotten about it until a few weeks ago, when Asher started sleeping like this:



Some things, moms just know.