Three Dots

Dear J-

Are Mondays easy to bear? There’s no pressure about getting dressed (limited wardrobe means that I have to be vigilant for repeated shirts later in the week), stuff that’s due at the end of the week seems a distant dot on the horizon, and I’m usually able to get up on time after having secured enough rest over the weekend. Sure, there’s work to deal with, but what else am I going to do with my time? If the weekends feel short it’s because we have to cram so much into those two days. Even with theVet finally having Saturdays with us that usually means that we have an extra day to play around San Diego.

I was just realizing yesterday how (relatively) easy it is to take care of Calcifer at this point — he is immobile without us and so, whether carrier or stroller, goes where we direct. Once they get mobile — and verbal, and opinionated — that’s when you need the skills of a hostage negotiator. On the other hand, that’s when the real fun starts. Everyone knows that babies are cute, and sweet, and all kinds of benign cooing, but kids are hilarious even if frustrating. It’s the moments I get to laugh out loud (and I have, often and frequently too) that keep me coming back for more.

Over the weekend I was mentally putting together the number of trips we might have cut out with a family bike on hand. Saturday to the library, one. Later, to Kensington wouldn’t have worked — I have a deep-seated anxiety about crossing I-8 and Mission Valley, both from a traffic view and a geographical one (that’s a big hill). Sunday, to breakfast, nope — same deal with Mission Valley. Later, to Balboa Park, ditto. Finally, out to dinner, yes I suppose so but between traffic and the darkness no one would have enjoyed it I think. Yet perhaps we’d find a way to work around these things, right? It is a lot of money to sink into a vehicle that may not see as much use as you think, so let’s not be hasty.

Mike

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Friday Wrap

Dear J-

For all the craziness she brings into our lives, there’s a resounding quiet when figgy’s not around.  I went to run errands today while she was away at daycare, and I caught myself more than once wishing she was around to take away the shocking emptiness.  Just as you can’t imagine life with children before the fact — you can daydream, you can speculate, you can borrow children for a while, but nothing’s quite the same — it’s becoming increasingly difficult to remember what life was like before.

Maybe that’s why I keep trying to complicate my life; I’ve got a secret suspicion that this should be significantly more difficult.  Hence the ideas that keep popping into my head, needlessly Rube Goldberg-ian projects and repair candidates find their way into the house.  There’s already more than enough to keep me busy here as it is, and what I really should be looking for is simplification, not proliferation.

Mike