Monday, July 16, 2012

My New Sport

Let me just start out by saying that CB is small for her age.  Not worryingly small.  She's a bit over a year and still wears nine month clothes (six month in some brands).  On top of that, of her body I mean, her head is just a little big for her age, seventieth percentile or so.  Her legs also look a little short for her body (I'm sure her diaper isn't doing her any favors in that department).  So when I say that she looks kind of funny walking now, it's not me being a mean father, it's that she really does look like a short-legged bobble-head with its hands to its chest (like how a chimp walks).

Now, we're spending a little time here at Grandma's house, who also lives close to Great Grandma, and CB has decided recently (we're talking the last couple of weeks) that crawling is old news.  We entered her in the crawling diaper derby, in which there were three heats for her to compete and she won, and I think the victory got to her head, because soon thereafter (I think the next day) she learned how to stand up without the use of anything.  That's right, CB has learned to pick that huge melon up onto her toothpick body without anything to help balance it.

What does this mean?  Well, it means that my wife and I have taken up a new sport.  We're calling it, "Run Really Fast and Catch CB Before She Falls or Goes Somewhere that will Inevitably Lead to a Hospital Visit;" it's a working name.  Thus far she's fallen down the stairs once (I wasn't present, we're pinning that one on everyone upstairs at the time), constantly trips on stuff (though that doesn't make us lose points), and last night she tripped and plowed right into Great Grandma's banister.  So, this morning, she has a great big purple bruise one her cheek.  The saddest part of it all though, is that even with the clear and present danger, I can't help but chuckle when I see her walk (and to be honest, trip), because she looks like an orangutan (short legs, raised hands, and all) who's had a few too many.  I'm going to go and ask God for forgiveness, if you'd pray for me (and for CB), that'd be great.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Sally, Part 44

Sally, Part 43

Or at least that's what Stacey kept telling himself.  The farther they went into the wood, the more eyes appeared along the side.  They varied in size, shape, and color, and Stacey couldn't stop his mind from imagining what kind of ugly creature would have red slits for eyes.  Something with fangs and horns, maybe?  But Stacey still said nothing.  Mattias and Syrin were still unfazed and so would he pretend to be.

Syrin stopped for a moment and squinted at something ahead.  Stacey was so preoccupied with the eyes that he nearly bumped right into Mattias's back.  He barely stopped himself in time and Syrin started walking again without a word or gesture.  Mattias followed and Stacey held until there was space between them.  What had Syrin seen?  Or thought he saw?  It made Stacey uneasy, and if he were forced to be totally truthful, a little afraid. Syrin never stopped for anything, so whatever he saw must have been something to be feared. Thought he saw, Stacey continued telling himself, he only thought he saw something.

The uneasiness still didn't go away though.  Syrin didn't stop walking, but kept looking ahead like he was expecting something.  An owl hooted, Mattias and Syrin never flinched, but Stacey almost jumped out of his skin.  Why did they have to go in this wood? Why did they have to go anyway?  Slavers or savers, Stacey no longer wanted to be a part of it.

Syrin stopped again.  This time, Stacey was ready and tried to see what he was seeing.  The stop was longer this time and Syrin cocked his head to look from different angles.  Still focusing, Syrin made his hands into an odd looking fist and blew into it, making some kind of call Stacey didn't recognize.  Mattias had his hand on the hilt of his sword, making Stacey start reaching for his carving knife.  Syrin made the noise again and started walking.  Mattias quickly followed, and just as Stacey was about to do so, something dark gripped him by the shoulders and carried him into the black of the forest.