January 17, 2010

NOLA

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The cold has broken and Sir and I return to the playground circuit. We ping-pong from one playground to the other and back again and sadly observe the yellow ribboned mush that used to be banana trees on our way to and fro.

In the week or so of cold weather that forced us inside, my son has seemingly doubled in strength and agility. He can climb, throw, roll, and what used to be unsure wobbly steps have turned into full fledged running.
Full Fledged Running = I should have done this when I was younger.

So the question is: Is it time for a leash?

I take a moment here to digress and talk about kindness and cowardice. Without referring to a dictionary I would define kindness as “being nice to another living being”. Being nice I suppose would include being gentle with another person’s feelings; But then there is the spinach factor.

Once when I used to work for a caterer, I happened to be passing out Hor d’oeuvres at a cocktail party. The cocktail party was populated with doctors, professors, and whoever it is doctors and professors hang out with. In the midst of the party there happened to be a man wearing a brown tweed coat and coke bottle thick glasses. He had horrible breath and a horrible New York accent but the worse thing about this man- the thing that clearly marked him as an outcast – was his spinach.

You see, one of the many Hors d’oeuvres I had to pass out, besides the goat cheese and tomato tarts and the pesto and carmelized onion tapenades, were some spinach and gorgonzola phyllo squares. My uneducated WNY Colombian butt was still trying to wrap her head around the concept of pesto and gorgonwha?? when I turned to the man in tweed and said, “Would you like to try an Hors d’oeuvres?”

I don’t remember what he answered. I only remembered that he was smack in the middle of a group of 3 or 4 and that his coke bottles glasses were reflecting the overhead light when he grinned so wide and so big and revealed a giant swath of spinach that was clinging stubbornly to his upper right canine.

Was it kindness of these 3 or 4 - not wanting to let this man know what an embarrassing situation he was in? Or was it cowardice? Fear to not be the one to see the realization of shame creep into the coke bottles? I almost opened my mouth but in a decision that I still regret to this day, my mouth dried up. I was, after all, just the help. I’m sure it was not life or death but in that moment I was not true to myself.

Anyhow, the point is if Kindness can let itself be used as a mask for Cowardice…what else is it willing to hide? Is it unkind to tell an unkind truth? Is it unkind to discipline?

I used to be completely against leashes. I thought they reduced the toddler to a pet status. I thought they were demeaning, humiliating and that they reflected lazy parenting skills.  I thought they were unkind.

Then again, at some points in my life I also didn’t want a baby; hated onions; and had no idea goats made milk. So it’s understood that people change and that I was an idiot.

Currently, I am the caretaker of a 32 inch, 24 pound juggernaut of energy that is clever, stubborn, and is beginning to employ sneak tactics. I will give the following statement it’s own space- ready…?

I     Will     Use     a     Leash

with no qualms, no hesitations, no moral or ethical shivers; Only a long delicious sigh of momentary relief (momentary because I’m sure Sir will quickly adapt and find new ways to terrorize me while entertaining himself).

My only question is whether I will choose the Lion Buddy Harness
 or the Jeep Backpack Harness, Puppy

Puppies or Lions?

I believe the Lion’s Pride wins out if, they’re still in stock  ;)

December 19, 2009

NOLA

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Today in the playground…Sir – in the middle of it all exclaiming and proclaiming to everyone and no one in particular.
A voice loud and deep – from his gut – very sure – with utter confidence and belief in what he was saying – though no one will know what that was.
And I stood there hovering wanting to give him free rein to tear into the world around him/wanting to shout and proclaim alongside him that he is true and he is right but instead my limbs flailed desperately/running here and there behind his sure heavy steps….disaster at every uneven crack of pavement/terror at every semi pointed stick
for me.
Wild wide wonder
for him.
Ah my son – soon even my limbs won’t be enough to hold you in and free you will be….beautifully and terribly free

December 17, 2009

NOLA

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Third day of rain.
Sir and I have many moments where we just stare at each other.
I wonder what he’s thinking.
I wonder if he wonders what I’m thinking.
Hide and seek becomes more and more fun as the months roll on.
Sir’s feet seem completely unrelated to the small soft slips of skin I used to hold through the night several months ago.
Surely the cat has hatched a plan.
When in doubt, eat the second coconut fruit bar.
Dora the Explorer only rhymes if you say in with a New Yawk accent.
Doraw the Exploraw.
In any case, while repetition is good for small people it tests big people’s sanity.
In any case, while repetition is good for small people it tests big people’s sanity.
In any case, while repetition is good for small people it tests big people’s sanity.

Being in the company of a one year old all day…memories stir and suddenly I realize….it wasn’t really right for me to be in the bar when I was five was it….

“One fish, two fish”, is brilliant in it’s nonsensity.

Am I really 34?

Is this sleeping child really mine?

Time for tea.

Good night.