I've been chronologically reading old posts lately, trying to figure out where things went off the rail with my actual writing of this blog. I guess the little diagnostic exercise could also be titled "Where I went" or "Where 'IT' went" (not sure what "IT" is, but pretty sure I'm in the negative commodity currently)...
In retrospect -- and I'm not done with analysis yet, as The Prof is out of town until Saturday early evening and I'm only through year 1 of Blogorelli, -- I guess that I'm sad to have lost a bit of everyday wonder for everyday rundown...and lamely let the number of my years dull the sparkle in my eye.
But tonight (at 11:46 pm,) and admittedly after a few, I really feel like old times. See, Intern-et, today is Lincoln Olav's FOURTH birthday. Now, don't groan about "another kids post," trust me, as I told Cho and Bobby, a recently contemplated title has been "Attending Baby Showers Make Me Want to Put 100% Polyester Underpants (not panties, never panties) on my Head and Set Them Afire!"
Looking back, I realize that the BBK's birth was actually quite an event in my life...
- He was my first. First child of a close friend. First time I held an infant since Fat Hairy Worm (which I don't remember, really.) First experience with seeing someone my age have a baby and deal. First realization that, if I ever had one of "these Pinkies," I would be highly neurotic and nervous all the time. First opportunity to buy clothes for a baby (not cat) that made it look like an animal. The last one, especially = highly satisfying.
- I met The Prof a few weeks before His Royal Highness was set to arrive, never thinking that in four years from then I'd be a WIFEY (oh christ, I can't believe it still) and measure our time together by BBK's birthdays.
But most of all, when I look at that suave little guy, I find it AMAZiNG that he, in four years, has developed into such a little person, who
- laughs like a chipmunk
- asked Mark, "Why you got CHICKEN HEAD?" after he shaved all his hair off (which I loved, actually)
- surprises me literally every time that I see him
And even though I am very fond of Linc's little brother Cab, I must admit that there is a special compartment in my heart for the first BBK. Or, as Mark succinctly lays it down, "You got to be the favorite of the first -- the second is mine."
Which is fine by me.
Happy Birthday, Linc. You are the only man in this world who could get me to willingly attend a Nascar race...and be excited about that fact.