Tuesday, January 26, 2016

And a Happy New Year - 66 Weeks



65 Weeks
"The airplane stays up because it doesn't have the time to fall." -Orville Wright

Four airplanes, three airports, two road trips across the desert, and one historic blizzard in the Texas Panhandle. He smiled the whole time. Ren for President.


63 Weeks


Oh right. This is why I work. Breathe. Eat soup. This is why I am. 

The best mirror is an old friend.

64 Weeks




"Twinkle Twinkle little..."


When I was small I can remember feeling special, like getting a round of applause special, when my parents had friends over and they paid attention to me. As a parent now, it's a fantastic feeling to watch your kid enjoy your friend's attention. First of all, kudos to the cool friend for sharing the love. It's not easy adding a new member to your relationship. Second, when your child likes your friend just as much as you do, you're thrilled to be in the same fan club. You want him to be his own person, and yet, wouldn't it be nice if he ended up enjoying some of the same things you do? Like Deetwah. He's been calling her name since she left yesterday. I think. I only just realized what he meant when he was saying it.

A Glass Half

62 Weeks
Ren has been walking for almost two weeks at this point. It's this bizarre little miracle when it happens. Terrifying and exciting. You're relieved he's able and at the same time holding your breath for every bump, bruise, cut lip. There was a time he needed help to go from his back to his side. And now he's capable of crossing a room, opening a door, and headed, well, away. Your mind carries you to the day he attempts to jump off the roof at the neighbor's. Gets pulled over for speeding in 3 digits. Drinking... Sex... Time travel...

Ren also recognizes letters now. He will shout them out in pride or point and say, "HHaahh" for the H. I wouldn't be surprised if he started reading early. We won't let him watch TV. Words aren't just communication, they're his only source of entertainment. It's an amazing feeling to have your kid hand you a book and ask you to read it with a simple, "Geet." [Please.] I think about when he does start reading on his own... Writing on his own... Watching television... Exploring the Internet... Buying space ships...

I have to make sure Greg reads this post soon. After my next glass of wine, I might end up huddled in the bathtub crying about Marty McFly and the Millennium Falcon.

Thursday, January 7, 2016

Thank you.

61 Weeks

Imagine you can barely walk. Like the dream where you can't run as fast as you need to for melting floors and moving sidewalks. You're standing in a warehouse made of concrete and noise. Everything and everyone is three times your size and three times as fast. Giant legs either completely disregard you or bend to press strange faces into your nose, speaking mostly nonsense through toothy grins, goofy voices, and coffee breath. What is coffee? "Daddy" and "Mama" are about all you can say and you're not even sure why except those two sleepy, anxious people you see every day get excited and sometimes clap when you do. Why do we clap? One of them points to a stranger holding an armful of fuzz and everyone around encircles you and giggles as you get closer to this thing they coo over and call something sounding vaguely familiar like when Mama reads to you from a picture book featuring random shapes of things with eyes. "Bunny. It's a bunny." What is a bunny? You trust and lean in anyhow, observe, then accept, and out of some distant natural instinct fall in love and look up at someone you've never met before in gratitude. What is gratitude?