Stolen Moments

(there's gotta be a million things with that title...kinda makes me want to track them down)

I'm supposed to be somewhere else, doing something else.  Nobody knows I'm here.  Nobody knows what I'm not doing.  It's a rare quiet moment to myself, a moment that feels not-quite-naughty, and oh-so-nice.  I'm enjoying the silence, and the ability to focus on one thing or let my mind wander, as I please, without the constant peripheral scan that is toddlerhood filling the space.  It's just me filling the space, or not filling it.  I know that later I'll regret not having used this time more productively, but right now, this is worth it.  I so rarely get to be irresponsible anymore.

It's delicious.

Two

Just over two years ago, my boy came into the world and everything changed. The biggest surprise is how much fun we're having, how entertaining this toddler is. And the part that was expected but is no less powerful because of it is how profoundly I love him, and how something in my soul has shifted to embrace this new role.

I've read a lot about other people's experiences - some heartwarming, some heartbreaking, some that bring on the giggles, some that make you tear your hair out. In one way or another, they're all cliches, no matter how well-written, but they're all also very true. I don't know that I have any new words to add to this, so here are a few of my kid's instead (and you'll get a feel for what tickles us pink, not to mention our generation, as we train our own personal Teddy Ruxpin - it's a great feedback cycle, because he likes to make us laugh, which then makes him laugh, and on and on):

"Stop! Hammertime!"

"Ice ice baby"

"A palpable hit"

"Need more marmite please"

"Hello salaam konnichiwa-wa"

"Baila baila"

"Zola come!"

(responding to "Who you gonna call?") "Ghostbusters"

And of course all the usual daily conversation and quoting and chattering to himself. The way he is growing his language is just fascinating. Life is a play-by-play, with lots of repetition from him and demanded from us, and it amazes me how he puts together new sentences and draws connections across contexts and even time. He absorbs the books we read and the songs we sing and counts pretty well and is starting on the abc's. I'm beginning to understand what's behind Rosetta Stone, though I've never actually tried their system.

The part you can't tell from reading this is the adorably hilarious way he says things, pronounced not quite right, and possibly not even intelligible if you don't hang out with him a lot. (This would be one of those cliches - every baby talks cute and funny, right? - that we marvel at despite their triteness. Just because it's not new in the world doesn't mean it's not new in our world. And better, cuter, funnier than all the other babies.) I've never managed to capture it well (where are you when I need you, phonics?!) and I'd rather not do it wrong, but I hope I remember it. I may have to try for some audio recordings. It's almost more about the emphasis and pacing than the sounds, actually.

And he still uses sign language all the time, which I love and hope we continue. And all sorts of other things are happening - climbing, riding, painting, swinging, picking tomatoes, throwing balls, being naked, eating, chasing the dog, counting, singing, hugging, napping, waking up, seeing friends, playing outside, doing puzzles, fun running....it's kind of an awesome life.

I don't know where I'm going with this - I just wanted to mark the occasion in some way. It's a big freaking deal (my language monitor has kicked into overdrive; it used to just be on at school and off at home, but hearing my toddler shout "HOLY CRAP" forced me to pay a little more attention to what comes out of my mouth) (though I do snicker when the sailor talk sneaks out) (and now I've even lost track of where this sentence was going...). The days of afternoon whiskey tastings and lazy mornings sleeping in are on hold for a while. But the snuggles and dancing and hanging out are pretty awesome.

He tries to climb back in to my belly sometimes, and it just ain't gonna happen. He's out for good, so watch out, world!

30DSC-3: A Song That Makes You Happy

(yes, hello, here I am again, the time, she flies, the blog, she lays fallow...)

A song that makes me happy? There's lots of those. I even made a mix once upon a time called "The Happymaking Mix," but I'm not sure I can remember what's on it. I may be able to find it somewhere, but I may not - in an episode that did not make me happy, my car was broken into and things were stolen, mixtapes among them.

This was years ago, when I was on my way to Boston from Denver via New Orleans. I was visiting a friend and parking was an issue - I found a place where I could legally (and for free, except not really, in the end) leave my car for a few days. I checked on it regularly and made merry, listening to live jazz and planning alternate life paths: a job building floats at Mardi Gras world and living a short ferry ride across the Ol' Miss in a sleepy, beautiful historic district....I still wish I had stayed, sometimes.

But then I checked on my car and found the window broken! The horror! See, everything I owned at this point was in my car. My whole material life. A nice yellow chair (which we still have and love) and several bags of clothes and miscellany. I lost my favorite hiking pack which traveled across Europe and a handful of mountains with me, a Gregory pack which they no longer made. Every time I take the new one out, I lament this loss. I lost all the clothes inside of that pack, nothing I can specifically remember except that now and again I wonder why I can't find a certain hat or shirt and then realize they were in that bag. And a case full of tapes, mostly mixtapes, completely irreplaceable. None of that stuff was worth much except to me - ain't that always the way?

I called it in, with low expectations of the N.O. P.D., who lived up to their name. Insult to injury? I got a parking ticket (in a different spot, one with a broken digital meter that didn't display how much time remained) the morning I left town. You can imagine how I took that - in pieces, with swearing and stomping calmed only by a last beignet from the Cafe du Monde. Oh, but they weren't done with me - they tracked me down, in a new state that didn't match my driver's license or car info (still registered in CO). I wrote them back, explaining the whole thing, down to the broken meter, very politely. They sent a new bill, doubled. I wrote again, less politely. They sent a new bill, doubled again, with threats of a collection agency. I swore a whole bunch more and wrote them a damn check.

And I still love New Orleans, and long for the life I might have had, though I've never been back.

Um. So. A song that makes me happy? Let's go with "Life Is Beautiful" by Keb Mo, because I heard it at the end of a movie last night and it moved me in a way no song has done for a long time. Possibly because most of what I listen to these days is aimed at the under-2 crowd. To be fair, many of those are songs that make me happy. How can you not be happy about tap-dancing rhinoceri?

But I'll stick with the Keb Mo for my answer. Let's go dancing on the juke-joint floor...

30DSC-2: Least Favorite Song

Another ridiculous one. But easier, I suppose, than the favorite. I'll just go with the first response that popped into my head: anything by Alanis Morissette. So whiny and irritating, at least that's my memory of it, since I haven't actually listened to anything by her since "Ironic" was on the radio all the time.

When I was in high school and college and actually paying attention to music, I was kind of a snob about it. I was quick to dismiss bands as bad (all the fruit ones - Blind Melon, Lemonhead, the Cranberries - oh how I mocked my hallmate for her Smashing Pumpkins habit) or embrace unlikely ones as great (Skinny Puppy, anyone?), especially if it might move me up a notch in certain eyes. I've become much more generous in my old age, thinking less about the image and more about my own enjoyment. So there's really nothing on my iPod that embarrasses me, not even the Little Mermaid soundtrack ("everything's better down where it's wetter, take it from me!").

I'm almost tempted to go give Alanis a listen now, but I just can't shake the memory of how annoyed I would get. Nothing personal, but I'm not sure even my new forgiving ears could take it - ironic, eh?

30DSC-1: Your Favorite Song

Well, that's just a ridiculous question. Last time I looked at our music library, iTunes showed that we have something like 24 days worth of music, if played nonstop (it's on our other computer, or I'd check the exact numbers). 576 hours. 34, 560 minutes. That's more than 10,000 songs. Ten thousand! And that's just the music we actually own. How could I possibly have one favorite song, for all my moods, for all times of day, for my stuck-on-a-desert-island mishap?

I have a thing against repetition, too, so even the songs I love become otherwise if I listen to them too much. The radio (how quaint!) has ruined many a song for me this way. (This is potentially a problem with a small child who is all about repetition, but that's neither here nor there.)

But not answering at all is a copout, so here is my right-now answer to this question, with signs posted about the right to change my mind as often as I want.

[...tick...tock....tick...tock... This is harder than I thought, coming up with one song I'm willing to claim as my favorite. Even just a favorite. I'm back to "this is ridiculous," but still want to choose something... tick...tock...]

Ok: "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gaynor. Of all the songs that ran through my head just now, this is the one that I cannot listen to without singing along, without turning up the volume, without getting up and dancing/acting out. Many other songs are better in many ways - I wouldn't actually want to listen to this right now - and I know I didn't even think of many songs that would live up to the label of favorite, but it'll do.

And hey, maybe the underlying empowerment message would get me through the dark days under that lone palm tree.

30 Day Song Challenge!

Today was the last day of school for me, and I may have to get on the annual obligatory blasting of Alice Cooper (after the baby wakes up, that is), although I don't quite feel that same sense of release this year.

I made a mix cd for the kids in my class, and I was tempted to put "School's Out" on there, but gave in to my better, more adult self (or perhaps simply to the fear that a few of the parents wouldn't take kindly to it). It was really nice to spend a couple hours just listening to music, my music, not baby music (even the good stuff gets old). To pay attention to it as more than just background, to sink into the memories and stories that go along with each song. So I thought I'd use the Facebook song challenge as an opportunity to do more of that. It'll take me more than 30 days, and I hear the kid waking up now, so I won't even start, but here's the list so I can get back to it as I have time:

day 01 - your favorite song
day 02 - your least favorite song
day 03 - a song that makes you happy
day 04 - a song that makes you sad
day 05 - a song that reminds you of someone
day 06 - a song that reminds you of somewhere
day 07 - a song that reminds you of a certain event
day 08 - a song that you know all the words to
day 09 - a song that you can dance to
day 10 - a song that makes you fall asleep
day 11 - a song from your favorite band
day 12 - a song from a band you hate
day 13 - a song that is a guilty pleasure
day 14 - a song that no one would expect you to love
day 15 - a song that describes you
day 16 - a song that you used to love but now hate
day 17 - a song that you hear often on the radio
day 18 - a song that you wish you heard on the radio
day 19 - a song from your favorite album
day 20 - a song that you listen to when you’re angry
day 21 - a song that you listen to when you’re happy
day 22 - a song that you listen to when you’re sad
day 23 - a song that you want to play at your wedding
day 24 - a song that you want to play at your funeral
day 25 - a song that makes you laugh
day 26 - a song that you can play on an instrument
day 27 - a song that you wish you could play
day 28 - a song that makes you feel guilty
day 29 - a song from your childhood
day 30 - your favorite song at this time last year

18 Months

Hey baby – you had your half-birthday last week, on May 4. A year-and-a-half old.. Not sure why this date seems like more of a milestone than 17 or 19 months, but it does, and here we are. I think I’ve finally gotten beyond feeling surprised that we have a baby, and now it’s just life.

Though you’re not really a baby anymore. You’re a full-blown toddler, a real boy, with a pretty awesome personality and a lot to say. Toddler isn’t even the right word, because it doesn’t show how fast you bounce when you zoom around (zoomtoddle?), or the shock on your face when you trip over your own feet and go splat, or the joy you find in being alive.

I look at pictures from the early days, and I’ve already forgotten what that’s like. So I want to try and capture a little bit of you who are now, even though I know I can’t get it all down. In theory I prefer living life to recording it, but I already regret not taking more pictures and (yipes) videos. So here’s something of a snapshot of this moment:

You are all about doing it for yourself these days, as you get stronger and taller and smarter every minute. You can reach those buttons on the washing machine now, and climb up onto the chairs, and you want to choose the shirt you wear. Or not wear, more often choosing to be as naked as possible.

Your latest obsession is with the car keys. You’ll stand at the car for 20 or 30 minutes, trying to get them into the lock on the door, pushing away my hand if I try to help guide the right key in. When you get a key stuck in far enough that it stays, you let out this wicked cackle, a burst of “ha!” as you stamp your feet and wave your arms. It’s hilarious, until we have to take the keys away, and then you let out an ungodly wail.

You’re learning new signs and words all the time. You say mama and dada and pop and ba (ball or bus). Dog, of course, your first real word and still a favorite. Ka is your car/go/keys word, almost always said together with the sign for keys, which you learned after seeing it only a couple times. Nyummy-nyummy is food, and you slurp for water, putting your hands to your mouth for both.

You’re a good eater, more interested in having what we’re having or drinking out of our glass than anything special for you. And you have strong opinions about what you want, and sometimes we can’t tell, and then we’re all frustrated. When in doubt, peanut butter seems to do the trick. Or tofu. Sometimes all you want to do is give your snacks to the dog. You know how to tell her to sit and lie down, and she’s always gentle taking treats from you.

Other signs: ball/more (fingerbabble makes it hard to tell, sometimes, but usually we can figure it out with context or by asking you), banana, dog, bird/duck/frog, gorilla (also an old fave). Flowers – you’re so cute: you’ll squat down to smell them, and pull us with you as you make the sign. Bath, cow, water, book. (some top hits these days include Mr. Brown Can Moo, Doggies, Goodnight Gorilla, One Little Duck, Go Dog Go, various baby sign books). I’m sure I’m leaving things out – oh, milk! - can’t forget that one. A sort of universal arm wave with various noises can mean airplane, elephant, truck, butterfly. Please and thank you charm everyone.

When we go to the Science Works garden, sometimes you run gleefully down the paths, but more often, you just stand at the gate, opening, closing. As you let people through and they say “thank you,” you'll sign it, and they always think you’re blowing them a kiss. At home, you’ll stand in the window, so excited to be able to get up on the ledge. You watch for bees and cats and wave to the neighbors when they walk by. It’s adorable.

You are super energetic and active when you’re awake, and you sleep well at night and at nap (except when your big teeth are coming in). You love to play with balls, kicking, tossing, watching us shoot hoops, sitting on the couch and throwing them for us to chase. Sound effects make you happy. As does dancing to music. Although you still ask for “Cows” sometimes, you’re more into the Barnyard Dance and especially the Tickle song. Snuffling like a pig always gets you giggling.

You love the bath – splish splash! Water in general: puddle jumping, throwing rocks into the lake, smacking at the tetherball base after it rains (dibble dibble dopp…). Pouring water from one cup into another, experimenting with amount and speed. Climbing! You can make it up the ladder on the play structure now. Slides are sometimes fun. You love to be outside, or out running errands. You’ve just started showing interest in the sandbox, and are figuring out that you don’t really want to eat the sand.

You are so observant, learning so quickly from watching us, watching older kids, trying things out yourself. You’re getting more social, too, with other babies, almost all a little or a lot older, so you have a lot to observe. You use tools well, turning over tupperware to step on, or grabbing my finger to push a button, or reaching for something under the couch with a long wooden spoon.

Bodies are fascinating for you, and you'll point out all the bits emphatically - head, ear, toes, teeth, belly button, nose. Tongues sticking out make you laugh, from the first time you noticed it in the Global Babies book to when the dog pants to anytime at all, and you'll stick yours out too to show how fun it is.

You like to be helpful, bringing us our shoes when we ask, and putting things back where they belong. Sweeping and vacuuming. Mopping up when you spill (or when Zola drools). You recognize us in pictures, and kiss yourself in the mirror. It’s amazing how much of what we say you understand, and how well you can communicate back.

There are so many smiles, giggles, snorts, grunts. Shrieks of joy and loud yawps as you talk back to the ducks and frogs. It’s a fabulous soundtrack to our days. And when we hug, and you say “Bobo” (from the book), it’s the best thing ever.

It takes a lot of energy to keep up with you, and it can be hard to get things done. But when we’re in the moment, we really have a good time. And it’s true: the days are long but the years are short, so we’re trying to be in the moment as much as possible. Turns out having a kid is really fun – at least when you’re the kid.

I’ve been writing this in bits and pieces, as I do so many things these days, and every time I come back to it I think of more (penguins!). It’s impossible to get it all down, and it's not as poetic as it might be, but it's better than nothing, so I’m going to stop here and let it be enough.

You are smart and strong and beautiful and funny and adventurous. May the fourth be with you, little man (yes, that’s a Star Wars reference). We love you, forever.