someone told me, a while ago, that i should really pursue this “writing thing.” after i caught my breath from the riotous laughter that naturally ensued, i filed that suggestion away in my mind’s tiny little file cabinet. i dropped it in, waaaaaay in the back, you know, on the bottom drawer among the discarded cobwebbed file holders. some days or weeks later, again the comment. this time from someone new. cue laughter (mine of course), mental typewritten message to pursue writing, drop it it, shut door. weeks later, again. rinse, repeat.
so today i decided to open the drawer.
to date, this blog has focused on my journey battling secondary infertility, coping with my miscarriages, and let’s not forget my failed fertility attempts. seriously good times, i know. i am shocked anyone continues to read these my posts, week after week. and then to suggest i should write more pretty much blew my socks off. i think the monotony of depressing posts following depressing posts would make readers tire easily of me, if i continued to write solely of my journey. i would’ve already quit reading about me months ago! seriously. and the nature of this infertility struggle and fertility treatments is one of tireless waiting, inevitable delays, and then more waiting.
so in the interim, between dildo cam visits and endless waiting to synchronize cycles and hormones and all that science-y stuff, i thought it would be good to bring something positive to the table. something light-hearted. and from the heart of my very light source… amazing son.
right now he is at an age of unending discovery, independence and curiosity. read: incessantly asking “why?” and insisting on “NO, i do it by myself!” and it’s only fair that you should have to hear some of it too. toddlers are weird. like funny, adorable little drunk adults spewing their warped toddler logic while simultaneously making demands like terrorists. you need not hear the consequence should you refuse their demands as you are well-versed in their weapon of choice: stage 5 meltdown. i know you know that one, you don’t need to have kids to recognize the stage 5 meltdown. but we’ll save that for another day. so most of the time i find myself grinding my teeth throughout the day with all this curiosity of his and justifying a reason to start drinking at 1:12pm. don’t judge, that’s almost 5 o’clock in NYC. but occasionally he will say/do something that makes me roll on the floor with laughter and remind me that i should re-think the idea of giving him away. kidding.
with that said, ladies and gentlemen, (wait, are there any gentlemen reading this?) i give you “whimsical whisperings” straight from the mouth of babes, or in this case, amazing son.
whimsical whisperings – “favorite part of the day”
sunday had been an amazing day spent as as family. the weather was unseasonably warm for february, sunny in the high 70’s. thanks global warming! toddler was in the best mood and we knew we needed to maximize that as long as possible. we hit the beach early to soak up the sun and frolic in the sand. amazing son made new friends with “cool new scoopers” (a.k.a. backhoe loaders, don’t ask me how i know that) and actually shared his toys. hours of fun later and a long restful nap we popped popcorn and cuddled on the couch with a movie. popcorn is like gold to amazing son, he will cut off his arm for it. toddler was miraculously still in good spirits which meant more fun family time and soon enough it was dinner. amazing husband cooked up delicious BBQ meats and fresh carrots from the garden. sitting at the table the three of us discussed how great the day had been and asked each other what had been our favorite part of the day.
amazing husband: “my favorite part of today was going to the beach. we hadn’t been in a long time!”
me: “i really liked cuddling on the couch and eating popcorn.” [turning to toddler] “what was your favorite part of today?”
amazing son squished his face up in concern. could it have been playing in the ocean? it probably was having new toys to play with. or maybe the popcorn, the kid is obsessed with it. i smiled at amazing husband, and we mentally and silently agreed today was simply wonderful. we gazed longingly at amazing son who stared at his plate of food, deep in thought as we asked again: “what was your favorite part of the day?”