for me, and him

August 19, 2011

dreamy

It's easy to describe a baby. They flip, they flop, they breathe their soft warm breaths on your cheek. Their eyes light up at the sight of your face, they cry when they need something or for no particular reason at all. A baby, despite the quirky differences between each manufactured unit, is a quantifiable describable thing. We understand all that is baby.

A toddler is a person in perfect tumultuous miniature. Good moods and bad moods, a funny wrinkle of the nose, the particular inflection of a certain phrase, the light in the corner of their eye on a new adventure. Toddler people, like all people, are impossible to wrap in the blanket of a few simple paragraphs to declare who they are. You can no longer sum up the soul of them in a few words as their soul has grown exponentially larger than words can hold.

This is where I'm living.

I've noticed a shift in observing my fellow bloggers as they've tumbled along their own journeys. There's something that happens once your child hits a certain age. Gone are the days of complete encapsulation. Instead the perhaps inevitable progression is to move towards anecdotes, little snippets of life that may (but probably don't) let others peek in on the mysteriously complex package that is this brand new person. Its the flight of their first independence taking wing and the enigma that will be their adult heart. I no longer get to tell the whole story.

It's not necessarily a bad thing, and in fact the format itself lends itself to primordial storytelling of the very best variety, but it's interesting to one day wake up and realize that you can't capture their magic in words alone anymore. I can bottle just a little taste of it, a golden glimpse, but never the whole thing.

It's an overwhelming pressure, trying to catch the sum of someone in a single moment. I want to share the joy that is his essence. I hope I catch it just right so that other people can understand the treasure I've found inside him. Maybe you can't share it, maybe that isn't how it works anymore.

Regardless, in all its futility it brings me back to the very reason this place began– I don't want to forget. It marks a shift in the way I'm able to record our story, one that's been going on for a while but I've been unable to identify until BAM today all these little tremors made sense. The realization fuels me forward, sometimes I just like to know where I'm headed. If this is the new way then let's get to it. Whether I can live up to the pressure of whole-ittude or not I will throw my heart into this hopeless endeavor simply to record it.

For me, and him.

heart and soul
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