Monday, July 14, 2008


Terror is getting a call at work from the babysitter taking care of your nearly-17-month-old daughter telling you that the toddler fell while loping around the kitchen, whacked the back of her head, and is now uncharacteristically drowsy and loopy. And not crying. Further terror is making the 20-30 minute drive home without the cell phone that died the day before, not knowing what your husband has now heard from the pediatrician about whether or not you'll be breaking for the ER when you get home.

Immense relief is getting home and finding your wee daughter laughing and playing her usual games, using all her words, walking steadily, and eating normally. Our babysitter (my boss's daughter! In for a temporary gig this month) handled everything beautifully, and all Ascos are breathing a big sigh of relief. Mr. Asco also came home to see Tessa's normalized state for himself. I stayed home long enough to see Tessa through lunch, read her a story, and put her down for a nap about an hour and a half after the bonk. The sitter will be peeking in on her periodically during naptime and will call me back when she's awake later.

I think my heart rate is back to something resembling normal now.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Pet Peeve

In the world of Freecycle:

When Mr. Asco and I have done a major housecleaning, and I do a huge set of offer posts to Freecycle in an effort to give away things we're no longer using (or, really, never used), I really hate when someone who doesn't get something writes back to question my deciding to give something to someone else. It's FREE STUFF, people. Come ON. Get a little more trigger-happy on the send button, or just realize that you're not going to "win" every race to the poster's inbox. Sheesh.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Dear Tessa: Master & Commander

Dear Tessa,

Somehow, it's been two months since I dropped you a line here, and I have to admit - a lot of that time has been spent simply keeping up with you. The last time I wrote to you, you'd just started walking. You haven't looked back since, and now you're starting to express yourself as you cruise around the house.

Your earliest words include "Mommy" (spoken as "Mum-meeeeeee"), "mine," "apple," "Elmo," "doggie," and "Emma" (for Anna). I didn't realize what an emotional whallop it would be for me to hear you call your sister's name. You adore Anna, even when she's doing her utmost to keep you away from a toy or book she's temporarily claimed as her own. When you see her after a long day, or see a picture of her, you point, light up, laugh, and call your version of her name. And she hugs you and kisses you, and I think, there just isn't anything else in the whole world as sweet as this.

Look at you - you're walking with so much confidence. You're talking and even signing a bit to fill in the gaps where you don't yet have the words. But you're still my sweet baby with that round face and those impossibly airy curls at the back of your head. You won't be at this in-between stage for long, and I'm trying to drink up every bit.