So, aside from all the stuff in my head this week, the negotiations around the move, thoughts on the nature of Love, what have ye, there were also all these moments lived.
1. Picking Petros up from school on Friday. Petros told me at CVS that he wished it were only he, Constantine and Clea-Noelle, that we didn't need babysitters, and that daddy had more money so that he did not need to work. He also said he wished we lived in the new home, but that someone else would build it so my husband, Fotis would not have to and we could spend all our time together. Then driving home he told me that I am God, that God is every person living, that God is everywhere, even hovering over the car, but we can’t see Him.
2. Theodore came home “sick” from school. It’s hard to tell sometimes if he’s pulling everyone’s leg, but he was willing to miss ice hockey, which he loves, and did look pale, so home he came. Then all he wanted to do was play outside and eat chips and run errands with me. But we called it a sick day, and tomorrow if he is well, he can get back in the game.
3. Clea-Noelle is now moving nicely on two feet, for moments at a time. Walking is now part of her moving repertoire. Her legs look so cute in these navy stirrup pants from Ralph Lauren that Petros recognizes as riding pants and wonders why a 15 month old would be wearing them – he’s right. She climbs up on the couch during our nightly dance parties after dinner and sways and claps and dances just as well as anyone. Petros sits and does not dance and tells everyone what a bad dancer they are. As my friend Caroline said today, somebody has to be the judge. Theodore goes wild entertaining all of us. Christiane is perfecting “her dance.” Which, by the by, has nothing (nor will it ever have) to do with ballet. Which she calls bal-la-lay. Constantine is continually making himself happy, is in no one’s way ever, cheerful. He will be the one everyone is always getting along with later in life. If for some reason they are at odds in the future, he will be Switzerland, he is Switzerland.
4. Fotis, I will include you too, HB, playing soccer at FSA at 10 p.m. Crazy, but both you and Yorgos were up for it.
5. And me, writing, doing pickups and drop offs and classes and play dates and buying more gifts for more of your friends’ birthday parties. Today at pickup for Petros, I looked at all the happy, diverse, amazing kids pile out of Maurice’s class. I have known most of these children from afar for four years now. So many have stayed. I love their parents. I love that it’s all about the kids. I love that Petros chose his team today which included David and Eli and Shahil. And all three are of a different cultural background than us, that they are his best friends, and he adores them. I look at Maurice, a commanding Irishman, with a masterful way about him, and feel that this is a charmed and special moment in time, that here he is teaching at this school which we have grow so attached to, and we could just seize what’s right in front of us.
I remember before I was married and was single, and my father said to me, "It’s someone you already know," meaning who I would marry. "Who? Who?" I asked. When Fotis crossed my path (twice) at the airport in Colorado in 2003, and serendipity cast its spell, this man whom I’d met the first week at college, and befriended, back then. This young man I’d always liked – we had a special chemistry together, always, something special and precious and we were careful to be careful with one another until lightning finally struck.
Sometimes the best in life is right at your doorstep. They say you can’t find a man sitting on your couch. Well, I beg to differ. I was home, back in New York, and an email came to me, one year after re-meeting him, he was looking for me, was living just two miles from me downtown, he wanted to get together. We celebrate the anniversary of the email – January 13, 2004. Now, 8 years later, seven plus years of marriage, 5 kids, 5 moves, and some pets. Here we are.
Happy Anniversary, HB. Test – Are you there?