In the narrow window of time that daddy was home, we installed a new extra wide baby gate as part of our ever-expanding baby-proofing measures to contain our newly mobile son. (More to do, of course, but we are taking it one step at a time!)
One of the new things Rowan likes to do is tell me when my plants need watering. I used to have a green thumb, when I lived by myself in a cute little witch's cottage. Since living with other people, I have had bad luck with plants. Not sure if it's all the extra fauna energy trumping the plant communication or what. But lately, Rowan has been helping mommy remember our houseplants and herb garden. He will stop whatever he is doing, and stare at the plants that live above the house altar and beloved dead altar. Just stare, until I notice. Then he smiles broadly as if to say, "Yep, you got it!" Then I will go get the water pot and he watches me water all the plants, smiling all the while. I may have a hard time hearing my plants these days, but I am glad to say that Rowan hears that they are thirsty just fine!
I don't know if I would have caught this subtle, non-verbal communication if I didn't have these precious days with my son. I love the days we can both slow down and love one another, and revel in anothers' company.