Four, and Final

Hey, little man-

So, it’s been a while, huh? I seem to have missed a few months of birthday letters, and by a few I mean nearly a year’s worth. What can I say? For some reason I just didn’t feel like blogging any more.

I think first and foremost, I didn’t feel like my material was as good as it used to be. I didn’t have the time I once had to tweak my writing and be proud of the final product. And I didn’t want to be one more cyber-idiot who posted just for the sake of posting.

Also, I found that I was seeing the world through ‘blogger-goggles’ – measuring every experience by how blog-worthy the material was. I began to hate this. I was missing the actual good moments in life because I was too busy making sure I remembered them for later. During the height of my blogging, I couldn’t wait to find a moment to myself so I could get on the computer and jot down all the stuff that had happened earlier. Which meant that I couldn’t wait to get away from you. I would get cranky if you interrupted me. As my blogging slowed down, I realized I was enjoying you more, resenting you less, and that everyone was happier for it.

This revelation was helped when a friend lent me a book of writings by a Buddhist monk, which helped me realize that what I was missing in my life was being present, being real and alive and in every moment. Trying to remember the past so I could write it down in the future made me absent in the present. Deep stuff, but when I took it to heart and gave up the blogging stuff, life improved all around.

And finally, one of my big reasons for walking away was that I was having a harder time writing about you than I ever had. For some reason that I haven’t managed to put my finger on, as you grew older, it seemed like an invasion of your privacy or a breaking of your trust to share our moments with the internet. Diaper stories and sleepless nights are one thing, but once you began to talk and to share your heart and mind with me, I felt uneasy about putting that online. And to be honest with you, I began to feel uneasy about putting my own heart and mind on the internet. Lord knows I had done it before, but for whatever reason I no longer had the desire to do it again. (Except for this, naturally. Irony is not dead after all.)

So there you have it. Why did I stop writing? Because I didn’t want to anymore. And you know what? I am perfectly okay with that. In the four months since February, I have never ever enjoyed you more, and I have never ever been happier. And I think that giving up a hobby is a small price to pay for ceaseless joy.

I’m still writing, but mostly in bullet points jotted down in my journal at the end of each day. Most of it makes sense only to me, but after a lifetime of writing to an ‘audience’, I’ve learned to love writing just for myself. I still keep track of all the funny things you do and say (like telling me that your favorite Transformer is Oktamus Prom). But from here on out, the stories will have to be handed down orally, told through tears of laughter around the dining room table at Christmastime. That’s the way it’s been for thousands of years, and it’ll have to be good enough for a few more.

I love you, my big strong baby-man. You are the dearest thing that has ever happened to me, and navigating the waters of baby-hood with you has been the biggest joy of my life. I can’t wait to stand beside you as you grow into the wonderful man you are bound to be.

You are my heart, Bonga.

Love,
Mama.

Just call me SwissMiss, Jr.

I think it's time to sit down and have a talk with myself. If I'm not careful, all my posts will just be stuff I've seen on SwissMiss's blog. I can't help it, though. She has some of the funniest, most inspiring, all around greatest finds on her blog. Like this one, that I had to post here because it made me laugh so hard I almost snorted water out my nose.




Anyway, check her blog out. You will not be sorry. But things here might look eerily familiar from time to time.

This week's happy thoughts

It has been a busy, but lovely week in our house. Chris has been out of town on business so the Benster and I have been livin' it up big time. So this week I am grateful for the following memories we made:

-teaching Ben how to use an Etch-a-Sketch
-the hours of silence that followed as he lost himself in it
-teaching Ben to play Candyland
-the hours of drama that followed (he won! he lost! he'll never play again! oh, wait, he won again!)
-dinner at the McDonald's playland (a very, very rare treat in our house)
-sitting in my parent's pasture, Ben at my side, our backs warmed by the setting sun, watching the wind and listening to the silence.

There have been so many golden moments this week that I almost feel I've been selfish with them. Surely someone else could use a drop or two of this joy. I'll see what I can do about passing it around.

Alive

...and kicking, but suffering from time crunches and blogger's block. The muse is whispering to me, but I don't have time for her right now. Hopefully next week I will get at least one quiet moment at the computer in which I will elaborate.

In the meantime, watch this video of Elizabeth Gilbert talking about creativity. It makes me happy. So does she.

Move over, Bob Dylan

'cause this kid is a master lyricist.

Overheard outside yesterday:

Cluck, cluck, cluck,
I'm a goat.
Cluck, cluck, cluck,
I'm a baby.
Cluck, cluck, cluck,
I'm a big big booooooooy...
Da dee dee do flah de dah

Whoa, man. That's heavy.

Today's happy thought

This is my last day on the devil antibiotic! Note to self: next time, take the 'upset tummy' side effect of normal antibiotics over the 'intense headaches and dizziness' side effects of Levaquin.

Looking forward to feeling human tomorrow!

Hate me if you want, fellow preschool parents

Even with a nose full of boogers, I sent the kiddo back to school today because staying home with him for another full day is NOT AN OPTION. He's at the lovely in-between stage where he's feeling too well to lay around (lie around? I can't ever remember) but not well enough to be a pleasant human being. So I have a wiggling, running, bossing, whining heathen where I used to have a vaguely normal three year old.

The only creature on earth he will be pleasant to is the stray dog we found on Monday evening wandering across our driveway. She is a very tiny, very old poodle who, when we found her, was so matted with burrs and prickers that she couldn't see and could barely move. Chris and I spent an hour shaving them out of her, bathing her, and getting her set up in the 'guest suite' (and by guest suite I mean extra dog crate). She is a sweet little thing and a wonderful house guest while we are searching for her family. Ben is not-so-secretly rooting for no one to claim her because he has fallen madly in love. She even has a name now. So unless some old lady calls to claim her precious, I have a feeling we've gained another dog. At least this one doesn't chew shoes.