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Back in the day, in my 20's (living the aloha dream in Hawaii), I could get away with the vampire lifestyle. I was invincible, bulletproof, one bad hombré. But it has become (painfully) clear I'm no longer the hotrod I once was. Aging (physically speaking) suks. Every few weeks, I take the bug back to Laguna, to the place he was born. We begin by visiting the old neighborhood, where we were living at the time. "There's your old house," I say as we drive up. "Do you remember?" "Dada's house," he usually replies, pointing. Not sure he remembers living there, since he was only 5 months when he left. It must feel something like a déjà vu for him. I can almost hear the gears in his head turning, as his eyes scan the scene. The new occupants don't seem to mind our nostalgic snooping, and the old neighbors enjoy seeing how much he has grown. Just this week, several people observed, "he's no longer a baby" .. that he has finally become "a little man". ••• today's entry continues here ••• I agree. Something is different. Like a baby chick that breaks out of its shell, I can finally glimpse what he'll be like full-grown. It's an encouraging picture. He seems happy, healthy and emotionally secure. Sociable and fun-loving. Athletic. Easy to get along with. No tantrums. He laughs much and cries very little. So I have a feeling of accomplishment. The whole parenting experience, for me, has been an adventure. It's based (I've come to believe) primarily on *instincts*, hard-wired deep in our subconscious. Which is why I have trouble understanding how some dads want nothing to do with their children. I don't get it. Where are their instincts? My instincts (which are unmistakable) prompt me to provide him with as much (unconditional) love and affection as I can, in the limited time I have him each week. And if this means pushing it when I'm tired .. then, so be it. I can always rest on days when I don't have him. I heard (in my court-ordered co-parenting classes) that the first three years are most important, developmentally. My hope is that he'll come to associate his earliest memories with feelings of being loved and appreciated. We spent yesterday afternoon at the beach, exploring tide pools at Crescent Bay & Shaw's Cove. There we found purple urchins, green sea anemones, and orange starfish - all of which he insisted on touching. The most frequent comment I hear from others is how developed his language skills seem. ("He talks good for two.") Yesterday at the beach, he learned three more words, tho has trouble pronouncing anemone .. which sounds more like enemy. =) |
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