Super sad (thoughts on a July Wednesday).

Sleepyhead.

What did you dream about?
I asked sleepily as he snuggled up next to me, pre-6am.

He leaned in closer, his grin massive.
I can’t tell you about my dream right now,” he stage-whispered.
Mama said I can’t talk yet because you’re still sleeping.

Buddy,
I said, matching the size of his grin, albeit sleepily.
I’m ready to hear your dream.

Honestly, I don’t remember the dream itself now, and that’s sad. But I remember the grin he had when he wanted to tell me about it, and there is nothing on earth I can envision erasing the visual of that from my memory.

Dad getting 11-month old boy down for a long nap; the definition of “a long nap” being realistically, between 15 to 30 minutes, should the constellations align.

Author’s note: this is not the individual referenced above ready to speak of dreams and such.

The only thing…

…at a certain point in the morning more disheartening than hearing:

“Daddy, I accidentally got pee all over the toilet and on the floor!”

is the follow-up:

“"…it’s okay though,
because I started cleaning it up,
and I got some of it cleaned up,
and now I’m going to go play!”

And then he trots off, the confidence of Winston Churchill, although in this case Winston would be wearing nothing except a muscle shirt and a lower half ready for a tan line-less tan.

Sometimes I wish…

…I had Dr. Seuss contraption for easily cleaning a room, or entire house. Sometimes I feel like the Cat in the Hat, but minus the cleanup at the end. Sorry if you’ve never read that one, because that was a spoiler. And if you’ve never read any Dr. Seuss books, then I’m especially sad for you, but it’s not too late to start.

Pretty much every time…

…I play with toy trains, it makes me a little sad cause I just want to go on a giant train trip through the Rockies, and on the Trans-Siberian Express, and a bunch of other places.

So maybe I’m not always the most fun person to play with trains.

You’d think that…

…having your kids fold laundry while watching a movie would be a good idea.

And maybe it will be someday.

It’s pretty much always a good idea…

…to eat outside.

I get super…

…sad at not living close the ocean any more. But then there’s reality checks that remind me rivers aren’t too bad either, and we are kind lucky to live this close to a couple good ones.

Children exploring barefoot along the Washougal River.

Some things never get old, like…

…playing in sprinklers.

Sometimes I wish…

…our front porch was classier and our front yard looked…better.

I love aesthetics and art and for things to look pretty.

But even more than that, I like for people to engage in vibrant activity and play and conversation and art-making and eating…outside.

So when I drive past all the super-great looking lawns and yards and front porches around - and there’s a lot of them - and I see them empty,

it makes me sad.

Why have beautiful places if you’re not going to use them?

We have pretty short lives, and I don’t want to live for the sake of keeping things looking at a certain societal- or neighborhood-level of decorum, for the sake of occasionally using it.

I want to use up my imagination, my energy, my space, my life with vigor, with vibrance, with shared experiences that get messy and keep the focus on making memories and meaning together.

We got a lotta weeds. Someday I’ll do a better job with all that stuff. But in the meantime, I’d rather spend more time nourishing and watering the root systems of children and people.

Someday though. Someday I’ll be better at both.

——

more 2020 posts below