I’m really bothered by my posting frequency. I used to get four days a week, now I’m getting two or maybe three.
Work shoots some nights in the foot, making even a limping attempt hard. Other nights I simply re-prioritize. Maybe playing a game with Sharaun and Keaton or reading instead (reading consistently is such a fleeting thing for me that I choose to feed it first). Tonight it’s work; although the 8:30pm meeting isn’t as “disruptive” as some of my later ones. It’s OK; I’m earning a wage and all and that’s a good thing. One of the many other nights, I spent outlining. I want to write a book; have wanted to for some time. I’ll probably never finish, but I got an idea. A friend of ours is doing it, or maybe has done it by now, I find that encouraging. All my ideas were limp, but then I got inspired.
Did you know that Cohen, our other kid, the new one with the still-soft skin and still-soft hair and still-toothless gums, can roll over now? He can. Been doing it, like a boss, for about a week. I think that this is, probably, a bit “behind schedule” as as American parents say. Although I find the notion of child development adhering to a strict “schedule” somewhat presumptuous and maybe a little insulting (can babies be insulted?). I’ll tell you what, Cohen himself could care less; I’m confident of that. You get into that kid’s brain and you read his thoughts as he hears you say to another mom, “Yeah, he’s rolling over now. A bit behind, I know,” and you’d hear that kid think, “‘Behind’ what, fool? I just rolled over, did you not see that? This is the greatest single achievement of my life.” So let’s not trivialize; my kid is amazing.