A thousand daily happenings to archive.

…a dead fuse in the car stereo led to a longer than usual mobile morning conversation about politics and language as I deftly darted through thickets of fog; a moment existed where I imagined us talking cheerily of Orwell while bouncing across the foggy Thames on a small boat. But then the thicket cleared and we were passing through Hockinson, Washington (population 4,771 per 2010 census). In a car.

…a conversation with a pediatrician that left me so grateful for doctors who listen and remember not only our children’s not-easy-to-remember names, but my name…and who treat every question with dignity, make eye contact, and speak directly to kids in a non-sing-songy voice. That is to say, they speak as a person should speak to another person. With respect and attention.

…sharing a giant burrito with my wife; carefully holding it in both hands over a nursing two-month old in her lap and helping her gracefully stuff bites into her delicious mouth in a choreographed move that made me feel like we are truly the lunch-eating equivalent of a gold medal ice skating couple.

…listening to Antonio Vivaldi’s Paris concerto no. 5 about…thirty times.

…watching our two-year old smear six ounces of apple pie ice cream across his face in rapturous delight and then announce with sugar-fortified breathless megaphone midway through the last bite-lick: “I want another one please!”

…my wife elegantly swirling her way across a crowded parking lot while holding hands with a backwards-Brooklyn hat wearing two-year old jivester and simultaneously carrying a two-month old beast in a car seat. I mentally soundtracked this moment with the classic Kravitz American Woman cover. Scintillating. Click. Took a mental photo to save in the all-time faves memory vault.

…skimming through an article about relationships and art (two of my favourite subjects) at the public Library (one of my favourite places) when my phone rang and it was an unexpected and intentional call from one of my favourite people (Rachel); a call which was filled with the minutiae of catch-up and daily routine recountings rather than banter of deep dive sidetracking into philosophy, art or ideas, but was nonetheless an unplanned treat on a warm October afternoon; I also acknowledged that I may have inadvertently bought hot coffee at an untitled fast food establishment an hour previous. This acknowledgement was one I was loath to make. But it was true. Sometimes dollar coffee is the path one must take.

…Becca flouncing over to hand me an early evening iced Americano. Half caf; just a wee bit of liquid adrenaline love to shock synapses awake through a couple hours of a school Fall Carnival.

…the joy of watching the joy on children’s faces as they play and talk loud and play silly games for silly prizes and laugh unself-consciously, and I forgot in the doors of this festive gymnasium the big worries about bills and money and home repairs and Presidential impeachment processes and…simply enjoy the enjoyment of others. Also, I liberated some of my kids’ candy from their paper bags where they’ve been hoarding. It’s a good decision for everyone.

…thirty minutes of quality conversation with a teacher about the book Educated, gender discrimination, and the ways in which history is forgotten quickly and easily. I am grateful for others who supplement and enrich our children’s education in ways that grow compassion, intellect, and imagination. Oh, why am I making this completely anonymous: Susan R. is a teacher every child should experience; her presence and role in our children’s lives will reverberate through the foundations of their character and successes for decades to come. Thank you.

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These are the moments from today I want to archive well. I shall refer back to them many times someday.