A: Dad
I've thought often about my Dad this week. Much of it to do with our slowly developing relationship that has been stranded for so long on the shores of misperception (at least on my part). Mostly I mourn the wasted years of silent recrimmination, the inhibition due to fear and guilt, and just plain laziness.
B: The "J" Report, Fifth Element
We've moved up to solid, wiggly food and supplement with chunky Stage 3 pabulum. Poops are looking firm and "J" is moving beyond immediate alimentary evacuation to some nutrient retention. And, on review, I revise our big "D" Day. Evidently, "J" was much younger when he came to me than I originally surmised. Or perhaps his maturing is retarded by having a mother with opposable thumbs who jumps and jives to his merest gurgle.
In all actuality, it is quite useless to speculate as to the hour and minute of his maturation. As an exercise in zen, I will live in "J"s moment and rejoice in his minutae.
Almost forgot, this morning as I lay snoodled up in my beddy-by, "J" perched smartly on the silk tapestry above me, cloaca aimed expertly at my face, he suddenly launched and smacked smartly into the revolving ceiling fan. He was flung into the wall, slid down and shook himself, took a few wobbly steps and then was rescued by Mom. He suffered not greatly, but I must be more vigilant.
Addendum: "J" has begun to eat on his own with a few pointers from Mom. He has discovered the joy of cheese and crickets, and still shows a predilection to be near me when not exploring the surrounds. Also, he has discovered his water bowl and the marvels of the aquatic realm, not to mention enjoying a tepid shower with Mom on occassion (pictures on request...heehee).
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