As of today, I am officially working from home. From this point on. 24-7. While the rest of you mo-fos battle traffic and rising gas costs and uncomfortable shoes, I'll be right here in my jammies with my unwashed hair.
This, my friends, is the payoff. Cheers!
Eighteen Months
This past month you have grown in a terrifying, destructive machine- able to create a whirlwind of chaos in sixty seconds. Since I began typing this just a short sentence ago, you went from goofing around in bed with Dad, to attempting to pull the blinds down in the living room. Now you are scavenging around in the pantry, pulling out the bagful of raisins as you toddle over to me. "Raisins... raisins???" When I tell you to put them back, you walk back over and in your attempt to shove them back into the pantry, you dislodge a vinyl lunchbox that promptly clubs you on the head. A torrent of shocked tears follows, and now you are back in the pantry, fussing to get some grahams or cheerios from the top shelf. This is the way it goes, a constant battle between independence and need. Two steps forward, one step back.
The advantage to this is that you are a hell of a lot of fun. It seems as though we can literally see you evolving mentally a minute at a time. You build block towers and laugh outrageously when they fall. You stand up on the changing table with your diaper off and give yourself kisses in the mirror. When you're ready for breakfast you slip down from the side of the bed, walk over to the door and begin banging on it until someone opens it. The you toddle into the living room, pick out cereal from the pantry and climb into your own highchair, attempting to strap yourself in.
I don't mind encouraging all this independence except that it seems to lend itself to a certain amount of stubbornness as well. But you are excellent at asking for assistance "Elp, peese?" and excruciatingly polite. Every dish you hand me from the dishwasher to put away is accompanied by a "Dank you!" When you melt into tears and petulant, frustrated cries I merely remind you, "What do you need to say?" And you wreathe yourself in smiles and request what you want easily, as if you have forgotten the wonderful power of speech and it's ability to get you things.
My favorite moment this month was when I came home from my meetings and you and Dad were taking a nap together in our bed. I crawled between the covers and you rolled over and nuzzled into me, as if I had always been there. And when you finally woke up you lay on me for a long time, quietly saying "hmmmmm...." and smiling. And then you lifted your head up and called me "Daddy." Thanks, kid. I love you, too.
If it seems as though we may have suddenly dropped off the face of the earth, that's not far off the mark. After working three marathon days to fit in all my weekly appointments, I checked into Little America for some academic meetings Wednesday afternoon and did not re emerge until Saturday morning. This left George and my sister in the unfortunate position of having to provide for Owen single handedly, which seemed to have gone exceptionally well. When I came home again Owen had learned to brush his teeth, blow his nose and give kisses properly and if that's not progress, I'm not sure what is!
For my part I was exceptionally excited at the prospect of having free time and actually being ALONE. It has been years since I have spent more then 24 hours ALONE and the idea of being able to tweeze my eyebrows and eat cookies in bed uninterrupted sounded like heaven. And the sleep... the possibility of more than eight hours without being dragged from under the covers by the urgent needs of another human. Hmmmm... delicious.
But, as might have been expected, it didn't work out that way. Lauren, Scott and I decided to catch a beer at Piper Down, which as it happens might be the only Irish pub in America that features karaoke rapstyle on Wednesday nights.
After another mind numbing day of meetings in which my ability to stay stationary came once again into question, we were treated to a swanky all staff dinner. The best part- a $10 all you can drink bar featuring a fairly tasty Pinot. I was pretty toasty by the time we all stumbled back to the hotel and in no mood to turn in early, so I managed to stay awake through a pay per view movie, regretting every minute after midnight.
The next day, after calling it quits at 5, a few off us headed off to Red Rock Brewery for dinner and beers. Afterwards, we broke off as a smaller group and headed over to Kristoff's, a martini bar within walking distance. Still feeling up to the challenge, Lauren, Scott, George and I left our car at Little America and walked to Port O' Call, where we drank more than five pitchers of beers and played quite a few respectable games at darts before rolling into bed in the wee hours.
While being an adult without responsibilities and freedom is fun, it's a hell of a lot more exhausting than I remember. I'm laying here in bed with Owen, goofing around and thinking this is what I really wanted to do.