This morning aiden_freeman went grabbing at a banana. He sucked on the peel and was very confused.
Just now shimmeringjemmy gave him a piece of dried bread to gum on.
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.. But he was intrigued.
Tag Archive: babyhaving
I’ve been offline quite a bit this week/end.
Feeling under the weather as of pretty much Thursday morning has slowed me down.
The growing child makes it even harder. Work has slipped on me a day or two primarily because of the distractions at home with him. The balance becomes a struggle at times but it’s one I want (nay, need) to find.
For now I find myself often delayed leaving the house for an appt. Being on the run at a moment’s notice. And more often than not having to put Aiden at the top of my priority list with no warning to anyone who isn’t in the room.
I have a lot of irons in the fire right now. And I’m too indignant to start pulling them out. I don’t like failing on any of my commitments. It however would seem that one iron is mostly pulled out of the fire (I’ll be possibly finalizing that one later(Thursday) of this week) Other’s are progressing nicely. Ironically the iron being pulled out is related to the one that is beginning to glow. (Obscure? Vague? Get used to it. More soon)
But, let me first explain that I am goofy-happy over Aiden. Touching his head, watching him play, hearing him laugh, looking into his eyes… It becomes the realization of ongoing magickal work. I see the universe in him. Ultimate potential contained within mortal fragility. I see my own life no longer as a finite point but as a mark on an infinite time line. Years of playing with genealogy mean just a little bit more.
I look at him and I find myself smiling in a goofy manner. Like very little else really matters. Here are the latest pictures of Aiden I am now required to post. (Click the thumbnails to see the full pictures)
So where does this put me?
This post has taken me the better part of 3 hrs to write. I find myself for the most part offline of late and running errands. My cell phone is a continual trip between what does and what doesn’t work. I am trying to stay available for everyone while still getting done the work that keeps everyone alive and healthy (self included) and food on the table.
To present an old joke… If you haven’t heard from me.. it’s probably not you.. it’s probably me.
Ran out of things to say on this topic. So for now, let me conclude with:
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I’ve been surprised that I haven’t really been having a lot of baby dreams.
Granted… I tend not to remember dreams.
I remember (in the dream) picking him up and setting him down. Later when I went to move him he was 3 ft tall. Then he was 4 1/2 ft. And after a few minutes he was 6′ tall. Then he started talking. he tried to convince us that this was a perfectly normal growth spurt. But he was using words that we hadn’t said in front of him.
We decided to go for a ride. Someone suggested I should take him to his pediatrician because something seemed very wrong. We tried to get him into clothes that would be acceptable for a baby that was his size. But it turned out we didn’t have any.
And the dream turned left from there.
The problem dreams cause is that they feel real. Situations occur and you simply accept them and try to deal with them.
I just woke up and looked at him.
I was happily relieved when the brain went, “Ah, yes…. dream”
I smile to myself now as I write this… “Don’t grow up too fast, Aiden. Enjoy it now while you have it.”
And for those who haven’t seen it yet…
He has it 🙂 See recent favourite pict: from gallery of picts from a visit from queenofhalves
Many people have told me how much Aiden and I look alike. I suppose it is genetic that you can’t see your own face in a baby. fiannaharpar has told me that she doesn’t see herself in her daughter either.
ON the other hand… almost EVERYONE will tell you that you are on crack and how much you look like your baby.
Some of you know that I am an amateur genealogist. I dug thru the files and found “a picture”
I have to admit.. for comparison sakes.. yes.. I see a resemblance. But some things to note (IMHO)
1) Aiden’s picture is a mirror
2) I am 18 months to 3 yrs old in the picture (no clue for sure)
3) I tend to think that all babies look fairly similar.
So… clicky clicky beyond the cuttie cuttie (Oh that was just obnoxious)
Dearest diary.. 13th of September, in the year of their lord 2006. Day 10 of my captivity.
The drums.. the drums!
My dearest schnookiemuffin asked me yesterday how things were having a child.
To answer this I need to roll back to about 2 years ago. A co-worker asked, “How are you enjoying being married?” I considered it and realized… I’ve lived with her for over a year and always enjoy her company… it really doesn’t feel any different. I just get to spend lots of time with one of my favourite people in the world.
So… how are things with the baby?
It’s a little surreal. Yes… I admit… watching the henson-eque visual effect of my son emerging out of the body of my love was one of the most emotional experiences of my life. After a few days of the amusement… I got over the feeling of, “So… they’re not going to take this away.”
Now… this wasn’t a feeling that I really wanted them to take him away. More along the lines of for the first few days he felt like ‘a loaner.’ Yeah, Andrei… we know you’re gonna have a kid so… here’s one to play with for a while… Try to actually get used to it so you’re ready.
Only thing is… this was the real thing and he’s not a loaner.
But it’s no less surreal. See… we’re in the reallllllly early stages. We have ‘baby’. Like the ones you NEVER see on TV or in the movies. There’s very little acknowledgment of the universe around him at this point. I have flashes of Dr. Keller wondering if he’s blind and deaf the way his head and eyes tend to lol (sic) around. (I’ve always wanted to use ‘lol’ as a verb, mind you. Even if I’ve spelled it wrong.) shimmeringjemmy assures me that he’s neither blind nor deaf and it’s just a lack of muscular control. I am the dad… so this means, “Okay… un-huh… you sure?”
So now we are into day 10. Yes… tomorrow he will be unable to count the days of his life on his hands. Unlike the past 10 days where he’s been unable to control them much at all. (No, sea_gaagii. No boxing gloves)
His regimen is pretty much what you’d expect. Sleep, Breast, Soil… lather, rinse, repeat. occasionally there is fidgeting and crying when we can’t quite figure out which of the above he wants or is transitioning between.
I’m trying to keep busy while being attentive. It’s amazing how I’ve transitioned from active to passive in this thing. I really can’t feed him (without help) and H spends a lot of time co-sleeping with him.
Amusingly, every-time I look at him. That internal neuron in my brain fires off and he’s the cutest thing in the world that I must protect with my life. Which of course has added some severely bizarre and sometimes annoyingly bothersome dreams.
I think we spent so much time anthropomorphizing him in the womb, that I expected a slightly higher level of sentience. But none the less, I can pick up an arm while he sleeps and it falls like a rag doll. A breathing, quivering rag doll. (Oh.. I’m going to give myself another nightmare at this rate)
I want to do more with him. Unfortunately, at this point.. the biggest game we have is, okay..let’s not look like drunk baby. Time to play strengthen that neck muscle.
It’s not bad. Really it isn’t. I’m crazy about him. Even when he makes a grimace that looks exactly like my dad having gas.
It’s just weird… and different… and glorious… and I look forward to when I can share this all with him on a level he’ll get. (and this thought is making me all misty eyed and sh&#)
I’m a dad. Who’d have thunk.