The Aidan Report:
He is larger every time I pick him up, and more beautiful (as though that were possible). One of my more recent epiphanies happened on waking him up and watching his ritual of hugely satisfying full body stretching, yawning, eye rubbing, and lip smacking as he decides whether or not to join in this rather odd experiment called wakefulness.
I realized I'll never be able to think again that a small person like him is primarily an expression of potential. He is no more or less "in potentia" than I am at 36 years. He is FULLY and exactly complete at his current size and capacity. He doesn't just smile at me because I smile at him, in order to pattern behavior and learn to relate. He gives it thought, regards me at some length, smiles or doesn't as he sees fit, and is simply affab
le most of the time, despite his varying frustration at not being able to do what he would like given his current skill set. Just like me.So we find our way through our days together, occasionally feeling rather vague on the whole concept. Not because he doesn't speak English yet or because I have to wipe his butt. Not because I have promoted myself to the level of my own incompetence and tend to wander under the load of stuff that needs doing. We're just muddling through because we are muddlers- same puddle, different leg length.
I still can't get what feels like enough time with him. Lisa works five days and always wants for more.He's had his first more or less solid food, as we've begun to add rice cereal to his breast milk and occasionally some banana puree.
The results have been a bit gassy but he seems to find the additions quite tasty. A certain amount of staying awake, walking back and forth more than before, and waking to sudden and surprising (for everybody) outcry is certainly just par for the proverbial course.
In the end, so to speak, nothing is wrong that can't be cured with a certain amount of fist chewing and cheerful
ly gratuitous consumption of anything within reach. The crawling everywhere has not begun yet but the leg strength to stand on his own is only lacking balance for him to be up and running.So here I sit, writing this entry, while working for Richard Page of Conference Recording Service (he hires ABC and I lead and support during recording gigs) as the Pacifica Graduate Institute hosted Tribute to Marion Woodman progresses.
I feel estranged, as if often the case, from this group of people doing their conference thing.
Most of all I miss my sweet one and my boy, as I sneak in a bit of dissertation writing and monitor my recording decks. Is all this middle class, wealthy gathering and saying portentous things important? Probably. Will I do it some day and have the same misgivings? Looks like it. I wonder what it would be like to radically change course and depart from what I have always thought should be desirable/useful/deservng of appreciation? I could remove my bow tie and dress shirt, blow off the inflated plans I have for myself, and just wake up in the morning to a workday and a family to appreciate. Why not?
Other than the love of a certain special woman, what more is needed than this?
| posted by Unknown @ 2/17/2006 07:18:00 PM
