Language is so interesting, especially "language" versus "communication."
Jezebel woke up this morning (in another good mood) and, after "guck" ("stuck," because she'd swung one leg up over the crib side and her bare foot friction against the plastic top of the rail had it pretty well stuck there) and "up," she said "oooo-oooo," her monkey imitation. This meant, "Good morning, Mother, I'd like to watch Curious George immediately."
After setting her up with said flick--I do have a lot of cleaning to do today, might as well get started while the iron is hot--I went downstairs and experienced a brief moment of utter domestic bliss. I wandered into the kitchen to start the coffee, which is one of my favorite activities of the day. There was the dog, curled up unabashedly on the couch. (We'll work on that later.) Here was last night's baby bottle in an otherwise mostly clean kitchen. Outside, Gabriel is already firing up the weed-whacker to complete his honey-do list. Mmmm.
It is just part of who I am that I had to come upstairs to write about it instead of jumping into my own list or just sitting at the kitchen table to enjoy the moment. I guess writing is part of this bliss, for me.