Okay, maybe not *that* close. The good thing about his love for the outdoors is that it gets me out of the house. It's very easy to get caught up in just sitting here in the house. I've got my computer, my job search, my laundry and dishes and cooking and other household chores, and it all adds up to a lot of time indoors. Having him helps bring me out into the daylight, which I guess is good for you. Last week we took him out and were watching him stand and toddle around the yard.
Sounds boring, right? Well, color me lame, then, because I actually found it quite enjoyable. But then I've been slowing down a little lately, trying to savor every moment with him because I know how quickly they pass. It seems like only yesterday that I was tucking him into my shirt to keep him close to my skin, and now he is practically running around the house. He hardly seems like a baby anymore, but is looking more and more like a little boy. I think I'll cry when he starts talking... is it going to be like this for the rest of our lives? This joy mixed with melancholy, this attempt to record the present while memories run constantly in the background? It's like having a radio on in the kitchen and trying to watch a movie in the living room; how can I separate out the past I love, so that I can enjoy the present without feeling a sense of loss for what has been?
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