Musings

Today marks the one-year anniversary of us having our cats. It's a weird feeling because I feel like we've had them forever and I really can't picture our lives without them, yet I remember that day we got them so clearly. I know that this experience will only be volumized with the baby after a year has gone by. If I can care so much about two little animals, I can hardly imagine the love I'm going to have for my little brother/sister.

Which brings me to the second reason for this post. Today my family went to Ikea for various household items we needed- my dad is having a work party at our house in a few weeks and we needed more plates, chairs, etc. First of all let me just say that I love Ikea- it's a Swedish company, and since I'm Norwegian and have been there so many times (not to mention have lived there) I've been in many Scandinavian stores and buildings. The atmosphere and furniture have such a strong Norwegian feel- I felt like everyone around me should be speaking Norwegian and I should, too. The bedroom furniture looked like they could easily have been stolen out of my cousins' bedrooms. The signs are in Swedish which is so similar to Norwegian that, much to my delight, I found I could understand them. Everything is so cheap there too- I never spend anything, since I'm overly cautious (if that's possibe) with my money, but I could spend a whole weekend throwing things in my cart at Ikea. And then of course there are the Swedish meatballs and cinnamon rolls.

Anyway, we were eating lunch in the little restaurant they have there, when a little African American boy ran up to us. He didn't look much more than a year old, and he was incredibly adorable. He ran straight for me and looked up at me as if I was a rarely-seen celebrity- on his face was a look of pure, happy wonder. Then he reached over and started stroking my hand. I smiled and said hi to him, and as I did I pretended for a minute that this was my little brother. He looked very Ethiopian though I don't think he was, and looked about the age that we imagine our little boy will be when we bring him home. I had such an urge to grab him and put him on my lap, but this fantasy ended when his mom came a minute later. It was funny- my whole family, brothers included, looked at each other and him, thinking the exact same thing. Then my brothers burst into chatter about how our little one will be exactly like that. I'm not anxious enough about our waiting to say that that was an omen, but it gave me, if only for a minute or two, a glimpse into the future of what life for us will be like in several months. That is, minus the tantrums and diaper-changing.