Watching Manchild at his swimming lesson makes me think that it is possible to love doing something even if you aren’t particularly good at it. What he lacks in grace, he makes up for in enthusiasm. (Or perhaps that enthusiasm is what causes the lack of grace.)
Squish’s language skills have, once again, caused me to question how old he really is. Only (almost) 2? Really? I could have sworn his brother didn’t give me that “Why not?” attitude until he was at least 3 1/2.
Last night I talked to a friend for an hour or so about the complex thoughts and emotions that go into family planning. This was even after we had both conceded that we have very little control over it and just about anything could happen. I’ve been left thinking about the balance between persuading myself to have another child and all the little considerations that might prevent me from doing so. Somehow they seem petty when compared with someone’s life, but I still think they are legitimate considerations.
I am getting a little bit impatient for the weather to get just the smallest bit chillier. I have a couple of things I’d like to finally pull out of the closet.
What I really want on Saturday, more than anything, is a good race. A good, solid, no nonsense chance to see what I can do.
It never ceases to amaze me how many times I will get us all dressed in the morning and realize, hours later, that we’re all wearing brown pants and blue shirts or something like that. Does this happen to anyone else?
More than four years after moving here, it still gives me a thrill to say that I live in New York City.
Any random thoughts you’d like to share?
And that’s it for tonight, folks. Have a good one.