Jack's vocabulary has been exploding lately. Every day he says a new word or two, often before his first diaper change.
Thursday, at Thanksgiving dinner he pointed at Eddie and said, "uncle."
He was on the changing table Friday morning and was pulling on my chin whiskers when I said, "beard." Without hesitation he looked me in the eye and said, "beer'."
Yesterday morning he was snuggling with Penny and I when he took my hand, ran it gently across his cheek and said, "nice."
This morning he looked at the letter P, and without prompting from either of us said, "p."
At this very moment he's sitting in my lap, watching my fingers fumble across the keyboard, the letters and words (seemingly) magically appearing on the screen. He's as fascinated by the words as I am.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I recently downloaded a new piece of software for making video phone calls online. The service is free and works in real time, but I have an old cam and an older microphone so the quality isn't where it could be. Still, it's pretty cool knowing that I can see, and talk to, pretty much anyone I know, anywhere in the world...as long as they can get online. There's also a cool feature that allows you to record short videos and either email or embed them on a site or blog. I love technology.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
I had a moment today that gave me pause, a sensation, I realized milliseconds after it had happened, I hadn't experienced in a while. Lately I've been walking around with my head down, either overly-focused or totally foggy. I hadn't even realized I'd been missing them; those moments that literally make you stop whatever it is you're doing and realize...what?
That there's a bigger picture? (Not to say that there's a big "Photographer.")
That we shouldn't let the details go unnoticed? (Lame.)
Life is too short? (Please.)
Clarity of Purpose. I don't mean an abstract, (and frankly, ridiculous) "I know I've been put here for a reason" sort of purpose. But a more a pragmatic, "What am I going to do now that I am here" sort of purpose.
I've been working nights again (good ol' bartendin'...always there for you when you really need the cash). I'm not getting home as late as the last gig when I was schlumping up the stairs to our apartment at 3:00 am three times a week, followed by a 10 am opening shift every Thursday. Now I'm home four nights a week sometime between 11 pm and midnight. Tonight I got home at 1:30 in the morning, three hours later than I had expected.
I was tired, and still a little wired, and more than a little annoyed at myself for even being in this situation. I took off my coat and turned to hang it up, when I looked down and saw Penny's and Jack's shoes just inside the door. They're not super expensive or trendy. They're not in front of a fire place decked out in full holiday regalia. This is not a J. Crew catalog. There was really no reason for me to notice them; Jack's little brown tennis shoes in the corner, each facing in opposite directions, the way a toddler would arrange them, or a parent would toss them. They looked all the more doll-like next to Penny's shaggy slip ons., one of which was tipped over in an almost choreographed way. Just two pairs of shoes. It stopped me solid as granite. The first 17 months of Jack's life have been filled with nearly overwhelming emotions, and they came to me all at once, in a burst that literally made me stop breathing.
Most people spend their entire life looking for moments that will give them clarity. They pray and starve themselves, they drug and poison and punish their bodies searching out these earth-shattering, miraculous moments that will leave them with no doubt. They look to the heavens and they seek out prophets. They look for signs and omens and secret patterns in words and numbers (as if the words and numbers themselves could not possibly hold the answers).
I'm no guru, by here's my advice: Open your eyes. You'll be impressed by how revealing and inspiring the ordinary, real world can be.
That there's a bigger picture? (Not to say that there's a big "Photographer.")
That we shouldn't let the details go unnoticed? (Lame.)
Life is too short? (Please.)
Clarity of Purpose. I don't mean an abstract, (and frankly, ridiculous) "I know I've been put here for a reason" sort of purpose. But a more a pragmatic, "What am I going to do now that I am here" sort of purpose.
I've been working nights again (good ol' bartendin'...always there for you when you really need the cash). I'm not getting home as late as the last gig when I was schlumping up the stairs to our apartment at 3:00 am three times a week, followed by a 10 am opening shift every Thursday. Now I'm home four nights a week sometime between 11 pm and midnight. Tonight I got home at 1:30 in the morning, three hours later than I had expected.
I was tired, and still a little wired, and more than a little annoyed at myself for even being in this situation. I took off my coat and turned to hang it up, when I looked down and saw Penny's and Jack's shoes just inside the door. They're not super expensive or trendy. They're not in front of a fire place decked out in full holiday regalia. This is not a J. Crew catalog. There was really no reason for me to notice them; Jack's little brown tennis shoes in the corner, each facing in opposite directions, the way a toddler would arrange them, or a parent would toss them. They looked all the more doll-like next to Penny's shaggy slip ons., one of which was tipped over in an almost choreographed way. Just two pairs of shoes. It stopped me solid as granite. The first 17 months of Jack's life have been filled with nearly overwhelming emotions, and they came to me all at once, in a burst that literally made me stop breathing.
Most people spend their entire life looking for moments that will give them clarity. They pray and starve themselves, they drug and poison and punish their bodies searching out these earth-shattering, miraculous moments that will leave them with no doubt. They look to the heavens and they seek out prophets. They look for signs and omens and secret patterns in words and numbers (as if the words and numbers themselves could not possibly hold the answers).
I'm no guru, by here's my advice: Open your eyes. You'll be impressed by how revealing and inspiring the ordinary, real world can be.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
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