The Reluctant Grownup

The wind howled through the night, and when it woke me at 3am I composed a brilliant post in my head.  The wind blew it away.

Jack was in it.  Of that I'm sure.  3 am wakeups these days generally lend themselves to worries about my boy.  Usually there are no genuine worries about him, so I make some up and stew over those for a while.  I generally then have to get up and peek in through the door that separates our bedrooms, and stare in the direction of his crib until I can make out his form.  I like knowing he is there, and of course I know he's there without checking, but I check nonetheless.

The wind figured prominently as well.  I dreamed of it all night - in my dreams it blew out windows, tossed papers, scared the dog.  In reality, it blew in a delicious chilly weather, perfect for this time of year, and that is all it did.  We are well sheltered in our city apartment.

I threw in a metaphor: I remember something about bones, though I've lost the other half.  3am and howling wind lend themselves to spooky writing.  Wind stripping a tree of leaves, bare branches, moonlight . . .

We took Jack to play basketball this afternoon at the gym.  He loved loved loved it.  He threw the ball, chased the ball, ran and giggled and laughed this deep and almost evil chuckle that he's trotted out lately.  He knows it tickles us to hear him laugh so mischievously.  We are a wholesome family.

Thanksgiving soon.  Class sooner - in five minutes - so I'll end this odd ramble now.

My daily cycling commute takes me about ten blocks west to the park, then about a mile north along the park trails to school.  The road we live on is bumpy.  It's a one way.  I don't often see many cars.  I cross three big two way streets, and always with great caution.

Always, that is, until yesterday . . .
(wavery flasback sequence)

Two feet on the pedals.  Running late for class, hurried, a little chilled by the wind.  Pedaling slowly through the treacherous parking area behind the nearby grocery store, where people drive like maniacs.  A car pulls up behind, hovers behind, clearly also in a hurry.  I also have a right to be on the road.  Car, you can wait.  Car is riding my back wheel, and I turn my head to see how close it is.  Turn back in time to see that I have approached an intersection more quickly than I judged.  Look right - no traffic.  Look left - and a car is upon me, honking, squealing brakes.  Car behind me, also squealing brakes.  Me, squealing brakes.  I stop in time, but the force of my sudden stop lifts me off the seat.  And down.  Onto the bar.  Hard.

OH MY GOD OUCH.  OUCHOUCHOUCH car waves me through OUCHOUCHOUCH other car turns off road OUCH CHRIST OUCH and it's just me.  I slip off my bike, jelly.  Argh.  In my head I hear, over and over - you broke your hoo ha.  Your hoo ha.  It's BROKEN.  You BROKE it.

After several minutes, I climbed onto the bike, winced, pedaled.  Limped into class five minutes late.  Told my neighbor that I just fell off my bike and broke my girl parts.  She laughed, and then awwed, and patted my shoulder.  Later that day, my left foot decided it also hadn't liked the force of that stop, and thus was I totally hobbled.

This morning, I'm still hobbling.  Good god.

Jack fell off a dining room chair right onto his face this morning, bending his neck funny.  He's fine - a little headache, a little goose egg, but fine.  I think someone must have sprinkled our food with clumsy dust.

I had big plans to write a big response post to my guest blogger, whose dilemma I think we ALL understand.  But I can barely manage these few boring sentences.  Dear anonymous blogger, if you ever return to see this - date the guy!  As long as "different from other guys" isn't a euphemism for "inconsiderate," "bad news," "lazy," or any other negative trait - heck yeah!  Dive in, sweetie.  Interesting, heartstopping potential mates are thin on the ground, especially ones who treat you right.  :)

Now, some unimaginative bullet points.

• Law school is gearing up, what with job searching now being added to the load.  Patrick is working on getting published again before this round of applications goes out.  We have got to get a babysitter for this kid. . . ah, the trials of a dual career family.
• There is a small contingent of law students who are bugging the hell out of me right now.  Complaining about being asked to write up a resume while we have so much reading to do . . . complaining (in an anonymous, schoolwide posting on the intranet, no less!) about a teacher talking about a case that wasn't assigned for the day . . . complaining about all of this stupid nonsense that makes me think, over and over - Helicopter generation, Helicopter generation.  Gah.  It's only a small number of people, but today they were irritating me to no end.  I want to shake them and tell them to grow up, for godsake.
• Our health plan is SO BAD.  Preventative care is SO EXPENSIVE.  God help us if one of us actually gets ill.  We are one illness away from complete ruin, and we have health insurance!  Congress, get your butts in gear.  Political, partisan posturing is not helpful, and I wish I could say I expect better of you.
  
• A hurricane's a comin'.  It just means our parking space will flood and we'll have to park down the street at Winn Dixie.  Pain.
• Wonder Pets and Dora the Explorer are tied for my two least favorite kid's shows ever.  That voice.  My eardrums.  Argh.  But Jack loves 'em.  He's talking to Wonder Pets right now, excitedly instructing them on how to save the kitten on the driftwood in Venice.  Yeah.  I don't get it either.
  
• So, it goes without saying that I'm in a mood today.  Even grilled cheese for dinner couldn't help.
• I won my fantasy football game, though!  Thanks to the great coaching of my co football leaguer, who would rather I win than his brother.  :)
• I want to marry Tina Fey.  If she offered to leave Jeff Richmond for me, I think Patrick would be toast.  (I think he may say the same for Salma Hayek, though, so we're even.)
• This is the end of this uninspired post.
  

The below is a guest post by a . . . TOTAL . . . STRANGER . . . BWAA HAA HAAAAAA.  As part of Blog Share 2009, we each submitted anonymous blogs round the rosie, as they say.  Mine is out there on someone else's blog, anonymous.  Below the post is a list of all participants, should you fancy a stroll around what people write when they have the words "anonymous" to protect them.

I'm at a crossroads.

Until now, everyone I've ever had a relationship with, every guy who I thought might possibly be "the one," was always like me.  We shared the same interests and hobbies.  We liked the same kind of stupid movies.  If I watched a TV show, I could be pretty sure they'd like it too, because we just liked the same sort of stuff.  I'd get along well with their friends and family; they'd get along well with mine.  We fit perfectly in each other's lives. 

Couldn't have been that perfectly, since none of those relationships lasted.

And now I've started dating someone who is different in every way.  He doesn't share my interests.  He'll sit through a stupid movie with me because I like it, but I know he thinks it's stupid.  I can't imagine introducing him to my friends and family.  I know that the longer I spend with him, the more I'll end up less interested in what I currently like.

Normally, with so little common ground, I'd just give up and look for someone I'm a better fit with.  But it isn't working.  Every time I go out with someone else, someone I have more in common with, I end up thinking about this guy, and that he's just better than them.

He's a smart man.  He's a good man.  And there's this part of me that's curious about who I'll turn into if I spend more time with him.  I'm comfortable with who I am now, but I think I might like being her better.

Not the Daddy: http://notthedaddy.blogspot.com
O is for Olson: http://oisforolson.wordpress.com
Red Red Whine: http://redredwhine.com
Rediscovering Me: http://leavingthecocoon.blogspot.com
Reflections in the Snow-covered Hills: http://snowcoveredhills.com
The Reluctant Grownup: http://gilliangaladriel.spaces.live.com/
Sauntering Soul:http://saunteringsoul.blogspot.com
Serendipity Now: http://serendipitynow.wordpress.com
Snarke: http://snarke.net
So, This Is a Treadmill: http://sothisisatreadmill.blogspot.com
Thinking Some More: http://3carnations.blogspot.com
Time for Change: http://ngradstudent.blogspot.com
Together They Come: http://togethertheycome.wordpress.com
Wondering and Pondering: http://wonderingandpondering.wordpress.com
And You Know What Else: http://andyouknow.wordpress.com
Andrea Unplugged: http://andreaunplugged.wordpress.com
Arctic-ulate: http://arctic-ulate.blogspot.com
Bright Yellow World: http://brightyellowworld.com
Bwildered: http://bbwilder.blogspot.com
Catheroominations: http://catheroo.com
Did I Say That Outloud?: http://tracyoutloud.blogspot.com
Dispatches from the Failed Mommy Club: http://failedmommy.com
Full of Snark: http://fullofsnark.com
Heidikins: http://heidikins.com
Hot Chicks Dig Smart Men: http://hotchicksdigsmartmen.com
Just Below 63: http://littlepieceoftexas2.blogspot.com
The Little Goat: http://thelittlegoat.com

We walked down the solid half mile of block party, witches and warlocks, pirates and princesses, a Campbell's soup can, and (my favorite) the Easter Bunny.  Jack, the big black spider, learned quickly to march up to the porch, maneuver himself up the steps, and dig right down into the candy.  He grabbed armfuls of chocolate and suckers and popcorn, and usually put it all right back in the bowl.  In and out are a big deal these days.  I reveled in people telling me my spider was soo cute, just happy they could tell his amateurly homemade costume was a spider.  Even had we the money to buy him a costume, I probably still would have made it.  It's not Halloween without mom bug-eyed and frantically sewing.  I was a sort of ghost - a sort of ghost chasing a marching black spider as it careened down the street, squeezing a Reese's cup with vigor.

There were dozens of wonderfully dressed people, and virtually every one of them over the age of 21 was carrying a glass of wine or a beer.  Adults were dressed, too, and mostly drunk.  Tables were set out in the front yards, most with mini bars - some also had food.  A zombie mother pedalled around a rickshaw in which rode two pretty princesses, sitting on their zombie dad's lap.  A cat-eared woman, swarming with tiny little circus dogs dressed in jester necklaces and doing tricks, poured chocolate into Jack's webby sack (I spent most of Halloween day stitching on the spider webs as we watched The Shining and Jack napped.)  My spider strode down the street with determination, barely noticing the somewhat heavy spider legs that pulled down on his real arms.  He wore the arms and the knit cap all night, though very early in the evening one of its googly eyes went astray.  A one-eyed spider with a sort-of-ghost mom and a dad in a Halloween t shirt - this is the picture we made at dusk on Halloween in the heart of uptown New Orleans.

Home early, Jack tasted the delights of Hershey's chocolate while we sat on our own porch and passed out candy to a handful of trick or treating children.  He was so cute.  I was pleasantly exhausted.

We watched A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving today.  The season rumbles on.