(no subject)

I am counting down the minutes until this evening when I can get my next massage from Roope. I'll probably go to the gym first, but right now I am oh so very sore from my day with Lucy yesterday. I love her so much, and I love her at this age, 2½. I was never one of those people who wished babies would stay babies forever. Sure, babies are cute (but only in very small doses for me, thank you), but I always look forward to when they grow up and are able to communicate. Regulate their own behavior and act like a human. You know, stuff that makes the lives of the adults around them easier. So I'm very pleased that my niece is talking in complete sentences now and better yet - able to recognize me, and not crying for someone more familiar (Daddy, Nana) when I try to hold her. In fact, judging by yesterday, I am her favorite person in the whole wide world! Okay, I know that's not really true, but my heart was all kinds of melted yesterday because Lucy wanted to be with me all day. She wanted me to hold her all day. When someone else tried to hold her, she reached for me. When people she didn't know came up to dote on her, she hugged me tightly and buried her face in my neck. She even reached for me when her Daddy and her grandparents were holding her. Oh man, is that ever the best feeling in the world! So I held her all day. And now she's back in Philadelphia with her mother and my arm feels like it was hit by a truck. (But it was worth it!)

I saw a lot of family and friends yesterday at the memorial service. I stayed outside the church with Lucy while the service was happening because my brother (who was a pallbearer and couldn't be outside with her) was worried she'd be too fussy inside. We walked around Massie's Mill together, and I pointed out her Granddaddy's first house. It went like this:
Meg: Lucy, see that house right there with the brown roof?
Lucy: Yep.
Meg: That was your granddaddy's house, when he was a little boy.
Lucy: Granddaddy was little?
Meg: Yes, a long time ago, he lived there when he was growing up.
Lucy: I love Granddaddy.
Meg: Me too.
Lucy: Good.
Seriously, TOTAL HEART MELTAGE.

Another thing that melted my heart even more was that when Lucy would talk to other people, they couldn't understand what she was saying, and I'd have to translate. The fact that I was able to understand her, even though we don't see much of each other and I'm not her mother, you know, to feel that kind of connection was really touching. I'm close with all my aunts and uncles now, but when I was a child, I remember that my aunt Sara was far and away my favorite - she was the youngest and hippest, natch - and it took a lot longer for me to really reciprocate the love of the rest of my extended family. Reflecting on that makes me really happy that Lucy is already so smitten with me. I am her youngest aunt, and possibly the hippest - I don't know Emily's family too well - and I'd fight you to the death if you doubted that I love her the most (okay, I wouldn't really fight you, but I'd wish really unpleasant things upon you) - so maybe I am her favorite. Or maybe she's just and equal opportunity lover. (Um, I don't mean that to sound dirty. Get your minds out of the gutters.) I'm just so thrilled that she's so affectionate and sweet and that I get to know her. Being an aunt is seriously like my favorite thing in the world. Does that mean I want to be a mommy? Hell no. Lucy loves me enough to satisfy what dim maternal impulses I may have.

So, to summarize, I love my niece.

Peace.

(no subject)

I just got home from the gym. Today would normally be an arm day, but my arms are still sore from yesterday and my legs are not, so I made it a leg day. I used some different machines today, and tried different adjustments on a couple of things. I think it was one of the best workouts I've given myself in a long time. I then got on an elliptical and managed to go for a full 15 minutes before I even looked at the time. This is how I measure my fitness - not in how long I can last on a machine, but how long I can last before I see how close to done I am (or not close, as the case may be, because I rarely make it past 6 minutes without looking). After my 30 minutes, I was definitely fatigued, but I felt okay. I'd listened to my iPod while running, but decided I wanted to read some. I'm at what I think is the climax of Part One in Atlas Shrugged, and I was really anxious to read more. I found an empty bike and started reading. I got almost to the end of my chapter before I decided I'd had enough, and I dismounted after 30 minutes of that. All told, it was an hour of cardio today. I feel good, and I'm so glad I'm getting a massage tonight.

As if the extended workout weren't surprising enough, I came home and cooked for myself. My trainer tells me I shouldn't have carbs with dinner - it's by no means the Atkins diet, it's just that your body doesn't need carbs to sleep and it's better for you to eat them at breakfast and lunch and do a protein-heavy dinner. But it's just so easy to stop at Bodo's on my way home and get a bagel...or make a sandwich...and I hate cooking. Oh my god, do I hate cooking. But I came home and scrambled myself some eggs. And I didn't fuck it up, and it tasted good, and God saw that it was good....

Anyway, I'm going to go turn the cold water on myself and cleanify.
Peace.