Monday, April 28, 2008

Blog entry, Virginia Woolf style

... the photo is from Jim's birthday party last month. Dan's buddy Carson, my best friend's son, had just toussled Dan's hair while they were riding in the wagon. Too cute!!

I've been real busy the past week so I haven't had much of a chance to blog. And I always put it off until there's what I think is a compelling installment of the Dan drama with a beginning, middle and end. I know, I know ... I'm a perfectionist. That's the real reason I haven't blogged. Stream of consciousness is not really my thing, but there are so many stories, funny things he's done, little milestones he's reached that I can't post every little story in neat prose. Come to think of it, my house is not as neat as it used to be. I used to declutter every night, now I look at Dan's toys strewn about and just clear a path so we won't die if there's a fire. In fact, I just think of it as an added layer of security ... a burglar could fall and break his neck. Most of Jim and my conversations begin with "Oh, you know what Dan did today?" And some people would criticize that, saying we need to have adult conversations that have nothing to do with our child in order to remain a healthy couple. Like so much "advice," this just seems to defy common sense. Adult conversations are overrated. Have you been watching the news lately? The menu of topics never fails to fill me with anger and sadness, often at the same time. Why would I forgo talking about the source of the most joy I've ever experienced to have "adult conversations?"

Watching Dan develop new skills and personality nuances daily is so much more interesting. I wonder what would it be like to giggle with delight at sights I've never seen ... like someone riding by on a bicycle or scooter or golf on TV. How does one go from peek-a-boo and chase being the funniest games ever to laughing at a video of your cousin frantically maneuvering down a slide with your Uncle Tim hot on his heels?

On the language front, he's starting to use "words" instead of shrieking at me. One morning, as he waited expectantly for me to cut up his banana, he looked straight at me and yelled as clearly as I've ever heard ... "BANANA." Wow. He mimics certain words now, too. We've heard the words booger, water, juice, bath time, outside and cat. Luckily, he hasn't picked up on any of the naughty words that sometimes fly around here. Especially this past weekend ... ugh, if you want to know, email me and ask. Nightmare central, but it seems to be working itself out. Being an adult is messy and irritating sometimes.

So, no, I don't want to wear three-inch heels and pole dance to feel sexy, or watch live music in the midst of rowdy, often drunk crowds, or have deep, existential conversations about the meaning of life all to somehow recapture a sense of adulthood from the pre-baby days. I've come to believe that the most meaningful things in life are not talked about on a deep level, but experienced and felt privately as life enfolds, as I talk about rain barrels and boo boos and my vegetable garden and a story a friend told me and whatever else comes up in a day.

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