myopic pilgrim

I wrote this a couple of years ago when it was just Mateo and me in the morning.

It’s morning. I’m feeding my son breakfast. He likes cinnamon waffles. He can’t say waffles, but he can say nana (for banana), which I feed him first while the frozen waffle toasts.

The bell on the toaster oven rings and I pull out the warmed disc. I hold it up so my son can see it. I hold it high like a priest raising the Holy Host up to heaven. He sighs ah like his mother taught him to do when he’s happy. I give thanks for my son and his mother and break it in two. I save one half for later and tear the other half into bite-sized pieces.

He receives the first piece from my hand. Ah, he exhales, content. Ah, I intone.

Almost said this one. Pulled back just in time.

Abraham was called out of the city of Ur. Ur you’ll remember is situated about 10 miles south of the pirate city of Ar!

Wait, the next one is worse.

Ur was a bustling metroplis, an economic center, a cultural center. You might have heard of the the Top 40 hit by Nelly It’s Getting Hot in Ur

I did use humor, but there were more a part of the storytelling and less like Jay Leno one-liners.

My wife was inspired to support March of Dimes. Wait there’s more

We go through these cycles, don’t we, in raising children. The particular one I’m thinking of is a wheel of effort and ease.

Infant

Effort

There’s the incredible effort just to get him into this world. It wasn’t as easy to get pregnant as I was led to believe and hanging on to him for nine months was even tougher. If we succeed we’re rewarded with labor which I hear is hard on a woman’s body. We get him home and we freak out because he needs us so much all of the time. We are constantly hovering over him, afraid he’ll break from the air molecules bouncing off the soft spot on his head.

Ease

After he’s a couple of months old, we slip into a groove. We realize Read the rest of this entry »

In lieu of actual content, I present to you the cuteness. Mateo beat me by three years; my first solo was at the ripe old age of five.

Mateo’s Solo Debut from Jose Skinner on Vimeo.