So we’re going up for a birthday visit on Tuesday—the actual birthday, a day I very much wanted to spend alone in bed, feeling sorry for myself. Unfortunately, it’s the only day that Mr. Book has off work, so that’s when it’s gotta be. I have figured out two things that I can make and bring that conform to Cricket’s current dietary “no” list (citrus, strawberries, wheat, spelt, sugar, salt, meat, dairy, nuts, eggs, honey, or other sweeteners)—dolmas, a few of which I will make with no lemon and no salt, and a recipe I haven’t tried before for savory whipped sweet potatoes and collard greens. There will probably be some present opening while we’re there, and Cricket has apparently started to bite hard when frustrated, so perhaps I’ll have a new bruise to show off Wednesday.

Those books I mentioned in yesterday’s entry have showed up, and I decided to show them to Mr. Book, something I ordinarily wouldn’t—my nesting worries him. But I told him that I am allowed to get books because I love books, gave him my plan for what happens to the books if we never have a futurekid, and then asked if I could show him. (For those of you keeping score at home, they were Jenny and the Cat Club, The Happy Lion, and Anatole.) Thus prepped, he was interested and approving. =) There are so many children’s books that I would like to have for futurekid that I have to start now (I tell myself); there’s no way I’ll be able to get all of them otherwise. Of course, as of today I have a better collection of picture books than Ruth and Nora do (they are library addicts, whereas (while I love the library) I am never happier than when surrounded by books that are mine. So if any of you want to recommend titles that you or your kids particularly love, I’m always adding to the list.

Mr. Book asked me last night what he should do with himself, and I said that I thought he should think of something he could do for Cricket—find a really great kid’s baseball glove to give him when he’s five, or write journals for him, or something—because he needs to do good dad things to wipe out the “bad dad” that he hears in his head. Me, I got a tattoo, I collect children’s books, and I make mix cds for Cricket—only one of those impacts him really, although when he’s older he may understand the tattoo and appreciate the excellent library at our place when he visits. Mr. Book agrees, and we’ll probably talk more later about what he can do to help himself feel better about being Cricket’s birthdad. We talked about needing to love him unreservedly, and about needing not to shut down emotionally for visits. When we visit, Cricket gives Mr. Book these long, searching looks—I said, “He is already looking to you for something, and you need to be able to give it to him.” And he agrees.

In my email to Ruth, I asked whether it would be okay for me to talk about the harder parts of the adoption: “But it’s been incredibly hard for me—many things in the adoption have been—and I guess if you are okay with it I would like to be more open about that. But I want your permission, which I hope isn’t manipulative.” So…we’ll see how that goes. =/