Sunday night. On Friday, I went to the doctor at 11am and came home for the rest of the day, loosely monitoring e-mail while I rested on the couch. The doc’s word: an ear-infection for each ear, and a sinus infection to boot. The last time I was in in late January, they’d given me a standard course of amoxicillin to knock it out. This time, she said, she’d give me something that packed a little more wallop. Seems to be working, although I did expressly disobey the “make sure and stay well hydrated” orders in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, and it really did set me back. Hopefully though, my health will continue its drug-assisted upward trend. Well, before we go on then, here’s a link to an updated Keaton’s gallery – with some long-overdue moving pictures as well as the standard static stuff. Enjoy.
Keaton, being only a little more than a year old, has probably heard a wider variety of music than most average twenty year-olds. I love this. Today, I played with her on the carpet for hours while the iPod shuffled up tunes fro its well-stocked hard drive. “This is Emitt Rhodes,” I’d say to her, “He sounds a lot like McCartney, before McCartney went soft.” “Gah…” she’d affirm. “Now, this is Taj Mahal, and this song should always make you feel good inside, even tho they call it ‘the blues,’ OK?” “Bah,” she replies. Between her mom’s hip-hop and R&B leanings and my own rock-founded eclectic tastes – by the time she’s in high school she should be a walking encyclopedia of music history. She’ll be able to pick apart the latest flavor-of-the-week in seconds: “These guys are just ripping off Zeppelin riffs with Clash-style bass and saccharine harmonies like wanna-be Zombies.” Oh man, if she ever really says anything like that… I might faint of pride. Anyway, I do revel in the fact that she’s already heard so much, and truly do wonder if anything is getting soaked-up: the beats, the sound, the rhythms, anything… guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
Having been sole-parent to Keaton now for the better part of each past Saturday, I have a better understanding of the difficulty Sharaun must face every day. When Keaton’s awake (anytime that’s not about 1pm to about 4pm), you are wholly absorbed caring for and playing with her, and in your mind you think about all the “real” things you’ll be able to get done once she’s down for her nap. The things you want to do, like pick up the living room or put away the laundry or finish the dishes – the things you can’t get done when she’s awake. But, come that blessed time, the afternoon nap, you just want to stop more than anything. Stop everything and do nothing. Motivation to do more work is hard to come by when the moment of solace you’ve been watching minutes for finally arrives. I suppose it’s a whole new mindset, as work-schedule adjustment is all – but I can see, in my brief coverage as mom, that it’d sure take me a while to find the cadence. Maybe that’s why I come home to the house messier than when I left it each day…
You know, despite, about 90% of the time, loving this beard-thing I’m cultivating on my face – I’m still extremely self-conscious about it. I like it; I like most everything about it – but I’m just not sure it looks right. Sometimes, rare times, but sometimes, I’ll catch myself in the mirror and the thing looks horribly out of place. Other times, I’ll catch a glimpse and think about how much I like it. And, as much as I want to continue to grow it out, I have this little voice in my that’s coming up with nonchalant comebacks to the Amish jokes, to the rabbi jokes. I dunno, I read online that guys who experimenting with beards should wear them for at least six months to really get an idea if they like themselves in them. I think that would put me sometime in August, maybe I’ll use Sharaun’s birthday as a decision point. I’ve also thought about going to a “real” barber (not Fantastic Sams or Great Clips, but that place near downtown with a real barber’s pole and the guy who sits outside smoking his pipe when he’s not cutting hair) and asking them to give me a pro-style trim and “line adjustment.” I would think a “real” barber might be able to give me some tips on shape and whatnot. See the things I labor over?