Anniveretrospecticus the Third

Well, I'm writing this from Ludington, Michigan. I'm going charter salmon fishing on Lake Michigan with Grandpa Buttons, and I already feel more human. The commute here is five hours from home in Hoffman Estates, and it's amazing what kind of transformation you get on such a ride. What with the music blaring and the sunroof open, you kind of start hearing that old voice in your head, the one you heard before. When there were no kids.

Consider this an Anniveretrospecticus, which is what I called the blog I did one year after I started blogging. I started Gamble's blog on 81204, and can't believe I've been doing it so long. In fact, on the way here, that little voice that used to be me piped up, "You're like a week late for your second Anniveretrospecticus."

That little voice in my head can't do math, either.

In fact, I altogether missed my second anniveretrospecitus, and I'm now over a year late, so I'm just calling myself a week late for the third anniveretrospecitus, and givening myself a "D" for introspection.

What's funny about all this is that when the little voices start up, and your internal voice shuts down, time speeds up. Like nobody's business it speeds up. You forget things. You're just hanging on. It's not all about you. It's all about them. And that's okay. They're so cool.

From Gamble's unrelenting but unbelievably mature speech patterns to Random's newly acquired babbling, gurgling, growling, and squealing (which she does when she's happy to see someone. Especially Gamble), it's great to hear their voices. It's a beauty that they have them, and for every "Shhh." and "Gamble, would you please let Mommie and I talk for five minutes" I'm genuinely sorry. I can't wait to get back home to hear their little voices. The phone's just not the same.

Mommie's taken on both of them alone for three days this week, and I love her for it. I don't know how she manages. I think it's her turn for a break next.

Thanks for another year everyone. Love from all of us to all of you.