This morning, while engaging in our usual cuddle-on-the-couch routine (Penn with his milk and I with my eggnog'd coffee--which is a little GBG, as my chum Doris would say, Good But Gross), I suggested we each come up with two things that are awesome. A trading of thanks. I went first, with the fact that Penn actually liked the soup I made last night, in spite of a firm recent stance against soup in general. He countered, and offered his Lego-sticker-starwars book. Admitting that was indeed awesome (it's amazing how almost anything with printed words on it becomes a teaching tool these days), I added my second. Penn's grandparents, who thought of him when they saw that m̶o̶n̶s̶t̶r̶o̶s̶i̶t̶y̶ book, and mailed it. So far, so good, I thought! We were snuggled up under Soft Blanket, drinks in hand, gazing at the lit (but as-yet untrimmed) tree. What a delicious way to share a bit of gratitude, and start off the day with a smile. Yes, those were my dewey thoughts. Then Penn went and tipped the scale. Your turn, I nudged. "I awesome this couch," he said. And there it was. The language, the tenor--the very name of our new tradition. I swooned a mommy-swoon.
There's nothing like a new practice, especially if it involves someone who will bend and tweak the practice until, in some curious and surprising way, it becomes the kind of valuable you'd only ever read about in books. Kinda like this very blog. I awesome this blog... and I awesome my Amy.
Can't wait for the next awesomeing. Can't wait, even, for the rest of this day. xox
I awesome my friend Genevieve, who harbored me in Atlanta for four grounding days at the start of this month. We laughed at everything, including a pile of pine boughs on the sidewalk.