I’ve been remiss in updating Hughtube. Mainly because this is how January’s entries would have gone:

Sick, Sick, Sick, Sick, Sick, Sick, Sick.

The month felt like a fog of cold air, coughs, sniffles, earaches, puke, and sleeplessness. At one point after a third trip to the doctor’s office, I started to get worried that maybe something was chronically wrong. But the pediatrician reassured me that things needed to get much worse before we’d really worry. Not very reassuring, actually.

And then one day, the sky opened up, snow came down, and we had a healthy baby boy again.

Our snowy house

Just in a time for a visit from his friend, Jovi, who came to town last weekend. Jovi’s mom, Ellyn, was my college roommate, and we’ve stayed close since the day we first met on a run for soccer training. “We run at the same pace,” she said. “And I like your mascara.”

Ellyn was a junior, and she brought me home with her one weekend to her small hometown of Rutherfordton (locals pronounce it in 2 syllables). I learned how to roast a pig (very slowly, turning every 15 minutes for 24 hours), sing all the Greatest Hits of Stevie Nicks, and the consequences of drinking unlimited fresh apple cider.

Jovi is just four months older than Hugh. When I had to pick a word to describe Hugh on his Montessori application, I chose kinetic. For Jovi, I would choose placid. Sweetly mellow, Jovi will stand outside on the porch and stare into space, pondering the finer points of being a one year-old. He will sit on the kitchen counter, playing with spoons and watching Ellyn cook. He will reach his arms up to you for a hug, and let you simply hold him.

Hugh, on the other hand, desperately wants to be on the counter so he can attempt to jump off while holding a wine bottle and two knives. He won’t stand on the porch unless he is banging the screen door open until it comes off its hinges. He’ll let you hold him if it helps him reach a higher elevation. And in between, he is lifting his arms up and down, flinging himself on pillows and the ground, finding ways to create unstable footing, so he can balance and fall.

Yesterday alone, he climbed and fell off a glass coffee table, tumbled down stairs, and climbed up on a hamper to get to the outside of the stairs where he hung onto the banisters.

Ellyn laughs at the irony that I am the mellow one who got the kinetic baby, and she is the high strung one who got the mellow baby. But we love our guys just the way they are, quietly content or raucously exploring. Though I wouldn’t mind swapping them out, just for a day or two…

What the heck is this white stuff?

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