Rain, rain

This morning as I was returning home from delivering the oldest two to school, the vehicle in front of me slowed precipitously. Luckily, there was nearly a quarter mile between us. There were three young deer crossing the road in the mist, into a horse pasture full of Scotch broom in full, brilliant regalia. All the cars paused to look and breathe in the moment. Sweet.

It's been raining. Forever. The sun comes out long enough to make the roof steam, get our hopes up, and deliver someone, somewhere a really great rainbow. It's out long enough for me to think that the beach umbrella resting on the front lawn must surely be ready to finish drying in the garage. Invariably, it is as I am placing my feet into my shoes that the sky opens up and a lake falls down in increments.

So my question is, if April showers bring May flowers, what do May showers bring?

Still no chart notes from the neurologist, dagnabit. Q made my day by getting his thumbs, alternating them, into his mouth and really enjoying them for a couple of hours this evening. I knew he would be a thumb sucker! He's rejected the pacifier completely since Gramma tried to give him--gasp--a bottle of breastmilk last night while I was at the kids' school program. He cried and wailed and mourned like a professional. At bedtime, he still wasn't speaking to poor Gramma. It's hard to forgive a person for pulling something like that. Trying to feed with a bottle. The nerve.

Q's therapist said that she's seeing real progress from week to week. It's nice to hear, since I'm just slogging here and haven't the most objective vantage point. He seems today to have sort of woken up, again. Which is to say, the neurons are firing and he's achieving things, developmentally speaking. His tone is more relaxed, but he's sitting up straighter, longer. His head control is good, even when he's turning. He even seems to be reaching for things. It's hard to tell, though, because of the visual issues. Perhaps his development curve is just flatter and longer. Let's go with that.

The rain has let up. I'm thinking I won't bother going after the beach umbrella in the dark. If I do, the rain that will inevitably be loosed over the house will wake everyone as it hits the skylights, our amplifiers. And I want to sleep while it's still quiet.

I hope your holiday weekend is long and blessed. May you have a little bliss, in some manifestation, and some snuggles with someone for whom you are everything.

Peace.