I have my own word fever going.

​(Photo of Solo by Kai.)

​I deleted a post that I've been working on for two days (I was only trying to delete a photo- hit the wrong button, whoops!) and right now it feels irreplaceable and I'm sad. Since it was a post for Kenya, my girl who has been nine for two months already and needs a birthday letter, it also feels like those things I remembered and wrote about her are gone forever.

Gone like all the years she's come through so far. I didn't write enough down! ​Where's her four-year-old face? Gone forever. FOREVER. Where's the pause button?

It is the last straw on a long weary day, losing words. How I hate losing words. Large pieces of me chip off and float away when I lose words. Is that melodramatic? Maybe. I could throw myself on the floor and wail right now, tired in the way that I am, feeling a bit dull and unexcited.​

​But here's the moment that saves the day. The two smaller boys were in adjacent bathrooms before bed tonight, talking with each other. Solo in the bath, Leafy on the toilet. Solo commiserating with his brother about not being able to poo sometimes. "Yeah," Solo said. "I've had that before. Poo fever."

Poo fever! Heaven help us. I love this kid. ​Quirkiness in spades.

What else should I write down about his four-year-old self before it's gone forever? I love the way he categorizes nice things and scary things by saying "I would go to that," or "I wouldn't go to that." As in, "I would go to dolphins," or "I wouldn't go to Gorillagators."

I picture dolphins coming into the shore, Solo wandering out to them, just going out there, going to the dolphins. ​

Poo fever. I'm telling you.​