Wednesday, March 31, 2010

For L

Though I have been remiss about keeping up on the doings of Otter, tonight I dedicate this space to a new life, about to make an appearance in this world.

My friend is off having a baby tonight. When she woke up this morning she had no idea that today or, at the very latest, tomorrow she'd have a child. Well, she had some idea - being as she was creeping up on 40 weeks, and babies tend to pop out right around that time. But no matter how close you are, the actual transition from oven to mother is a sudden and definitive one. It is a line in the sand - or rather, in concrete. For unlike sand, marks on concrete are permanent, and no wind or tide can erase them.

People always talk about how children will change your life. But while the entire pregnancy is a rite of passage, it is a mostly hypothetical one, bolstered by vague ideas of how your day-to-day existence will be altered by the presence of this creature growing inside you. It can be a time of great stress, or great anticipation, but it's not "real," no matter how real it seems.

And then, either by knife or nature, the "before" is literally rent from the "hereafter." It's not until the moment that this being, suddenly separated from you, enters your life in it's own right, that the true magnitude of what is about to be, what you are to become, suddenly comes into focus before you in undeniable clarity. Yet only in hindsight can you truly process and understand that moment.

So to L, as you embark on what is to be the most challenging journey, know this about your child...

He will be an abyss of need; and an endless source of love.
He will teach you patience beyond measure; and you will learn to recognize your limits.
He will cause you laughter; and make your soul over-run with sorrow.
He will test your boundaries; and make you forget your inhibitions.

He will do all these things and much, much more than you or I can ever imagine.

For he is magical. Don't ever forget that.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Fashionista Diaries Continue

Just a taste of Otter's fashion sense. As one of my friends pointed out, "Oh, she has mommy's sense of style..." This seems so far from the innocent days of skants...

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Flower Power

My girl is a fan of all things floral. From pictures and shirts to the flower jacket which she would wear 24/7 given the option (thank you, Aunt Erika), "flow-wa" is king. But nothing beats the real deal, and with the advent of spring, we've found ourselves scoping the neighborhood for blooms that overhang the fence onto the sidewalk (public domain, as far as I'm concerned). Fortunately, living where we do, SB has the benefit of a diverse and aromatic haul...

Happy spring, everyone!

Sunday, March 7, 2010

You Must Remember This...

I got my first Otter kiss yesterday, a solid third behind her rubber duck (which has been getting action since Thursday) and the dog.

Yeah, it was way cool.

Early Achievement

The Terrible Twos have arrived with a bang, kick and scream about 6 months early. The most common victim of this new milestone is our long-suffering dog, whose daily regimen of being assaulted with hugs and being force fed various bits Otter finds on the floor (some of it even edible) has been augmented by pokes, smacks and the occasional wheeled toy hit and run.

Attempts at curtailing this barrage of abuse are generally met with kicking, punching and screaming (and that's just MY reaction ;) ). As I searched for a more workable solution, I've run across the gamut of suggestions, everything from Dr. Happy's advice that involved mirroring SB's feelings in Toddlerese, along with some clapping and growling, to Internet boards offering everything from loving hugs and pretending to cry to beating your child with a staff in the name of the Lord. I wish I was kidding.

The dog concedes his defeat before the abuse with a characteristically morose outlook, fleeing when the barrage becomes to intense. Such is his lot, balanced somewhat by nighttime bed privileges and mealtime snacks courtesy of the Otter.

As for me, I'm trying to lovingly acknowledge her emotions while dodging and weaving, holding down the legs with all my might, and starting to research boarding schools.