Wednesday, October 31, 2007

2 Things that make every moment worthwhile

You are 15 months old. You are big. But not just in physical size. Your soul, your heart, YOU.....are enormous. You run everywhere with wild abandon. You shriek like a siren. That pointing finger, points at everything. Sometimes I wonder if you're pointing at spirits or at things I can't see .....anymore. I wouldn't put it past you. YOU are so much. You spin and spin and spin and fall. You are hungry NOW. You are inspired to hug your classmates (even if it knocks them over and they cry), the dogs, your "babies", Daddy, Just right when I've drifted away into my head. Into the seemingly infinte "to do" list that is my life. Right when I need your soft-but-hard hugs most. And your cries, your CRIES. They are big, loud and passionate. Like blaring reminders that cell phone is soooooo very important. Right now. You must have it. NOW. Or "Sippy", you must have "sippy" RIGHT NOW. You need it. Regardless of whether I am currently pouring milk into it or not. Maybe you're really trying to remind me that right now....."right now" is very important. How have I forgotten that?

Sometimes, you smile and I swear the sun pours out of your face. Like a flood of love from a burst damn. Only right now that flood is infinite. It's always there, but when you blow the dam, damn, its a wonderful kind of devastating. That's the "Love" smile. I feel a particular warmth for your, "Flirt/Coy" smile, though. It's the one where you kind of tip you're head to one side and you let the sunshine just barely peak into view. Oh. Oh oh oh, its like eating one very small piece of beautiful chocolate. Blissful but small. Not small in a bad way, more like in the way a really good wine ever so delicately offers tastes like "they" say it should. Like cherries or oak. And for that fleeting second (mostly because we can't really afford to drink this quality of wine all the time) it's like walking into a clearing of a really dense forest. That's subtle change in energy that is so wonderful. It's relief. And excitement. And a curious kind of expectation to experience it again and again and again. It's a new kind of energy deep inside. Isn't it amazing that your smile can do that to me? You don't understand now...that's good. Because once you understand you won't be feeling this way all the time. Like you do now. I'd like to revel in that for you right now.

Oh yeah, I said two things, didn't I. Well the second. The second thing is what taught me why people become parents. You see, there is a chemical response that happens when your very own child cries. It is automatic for me and very instinctual. My heart hurts with an imediacy I can't put to words. And all I can do is kiss you and want to make you feel better. Ah, but with that new sense of urgent hurt there also comes a sense of urgent joy. And that joy is what fills me every single time you laugh. If you continued to laugh all day, while I ate your tummy. I would do it all day. Because when you laugh. When you laugh....How I do I describe this?

I feel like I'm both lucky and unlucky to be the kind of person who FEELS things always ina big way. When I'm happy and inspired...I am REALLY happy and REALLY inspired. Sometimes to a fault. And when I'm lonely....I'm really lonely. And really really sad. When you laugh it's like when I used to drive some 45 minutes home from work. And I was feeling particularly inspired by a new artist or song that day. And I would blast that song and sing and scream it as loud as I could the whole way home. All the while feeling that sense of absolute bliss and connection to the world. I would roll down the windows and drive really fast; the wind blowing my hair around me. My adreniline would pump. I would hit all the green stoplights. And know with all of my being that the world makes sense. .......Your laugh is like that feeling. Only better....

1 comment:

DK said...

Oh my gosh you need to post more. You write so beautifully. I think I dare you to do Blog 365. I may even double dog dare you. It'd be a cathartic little bit of self-exploration, I think.

Not to mention, holy freakin' Cowie do I miss you...