Keep Reaching and Mommy Forgot

Eli used to go to bed at 7:00, long before the sky grew dark enough to see the bright, glowing moon outside. Since it takes so long to get Bella to sleep at night, Eli has been staying up later these days. The past few nights, we've been riding the bike back and forth, back and forth, up and down the street in front of our house after I finally get little Miss Bella to sleep.
When we are traveling in the direction of the moon, Eli often says, "Mommy, look at the moon," with such excitement in is voice. It's as if every time he mentions it is the first time his eyes have spotted it, and each time he mentions the moon, he says to me, "Eli hold that moon, Mommy." As we both try reaching for "that moon," we never seem to be able to "hold it." I told Eli to just keep reaching and maybe one day he'll be able to hold it. We talked about astronauts and how they travel in space shuttles to the moon. Then after I told him that, I thought to myself... I don't think they really go to the moon anymore. (He really likes seeing the rockets when we pass by the Space and Rocket Center and when we pass by the corner of Airport Rd. and the Parkway.) Every time he tells me he wants to "hold that moon," and I tell him to keep reaching, I am reminded of a cheesy, book fair-like poster I used to have posted to the front of my desk in my classroom. It read, "Shoot for the moon, even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."
Tonight, before it was time for bed, Eli said to me, "Mommy, Eli go outside to see the moon." So, we went in the front, looked up at the moon, reached for it, and then had a discussion about the sun. Eli inquired, "Hey Mommy, where the sun go?" Keeping it simple, I told him that the sun was asleep and would wake up in the morning. Satisfied with my answer, we turned and walked back inside the front door. When we stepped inside, Eli said, "Go backyard and look at the moon." So, we went out the back door to look at the moon. "Oh, there it is, Mommy! There's that moon!" After talking some more about the moon, I realized that Eli thought there were two moons, a front yard moon and a backyard moon. Too cute!

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How do I love you little one? Let me count the ways. One in sunshine, two in snow, three on rainy days... I read this book to Eli almost everyday for about the first year of his life. With it's folded corners, ripped pages, and taped seams, you can tell this book has been read! Well, this book is now Bella's bedtime story. So, each night, Eli and Bella both sit on my lap and we read this story before the nightly attempts to get Bella to sleep. Sitting in my lap and reading to both Eli and Bella is a new thing. For a while now, Eli did not want to sit in my lap with Bella. He would want to get down, or he would say something like, "Put Bella down." Now, they both sit on my lap, Eli on the right and Bella on the left. Bella sits, staring at each page with her big eyes just taking in all the colors and pictures on each page. Eli sits with his left arm wrapped around Bella and his right thumb, you guessed it, in his mouth. As we're reading, he will pop the thumb out to point out things in the book to Bella, "Look Bella, he's dirty," he tells her when we come to, "Seven I love your chocolate cheeks and eight your muddy feet..." Tonight when we sat down, Eli turned his head and gave me a kiss. What a sweet boy! I love Eli initiated kisses. I pulled the story we've read so many times out of the book pocket on the side of the glider in Bella's room, read the title, "How Do I Love You?" and began to open the book when Eli, in a distressed voice, said, "Oh, oh Mommy forgot!" Oh goodness! What had I forgotten to do? Eli then said, "Kimmelman, Mommy. Mommy forgot to say Kimmelman." The way it came out if his mouth was so cute. So, I closed the book, and he pointed to the author's name and said, "Leslie Kimmelman, see Mommy forgot." Yes indeed, Mommy did forgot to say the author's name. Thank you, Eli, for reminding me not to leave out this oh so crucial part of the book. I'll know better next time.