Blurry

A long time ago. In a galaxy far far away. I was a freshman in college at UC Santa Cruz.

I didn’t do a lot of…uh, studying, but I had A LOT of fun. A LOT.

Uck Suck was big with the flyers as I am sure all universities are and standing around at the bus stop one day something caught my eye and that’s how I ended up in the Santa Cruz High gym, empty except for a few adolescent boys and a band I had barely heard of. Which is cool because now whenever Mr. E crams into some overpriced overpacked venue with billions of other deaf morons Radiohead fans I like to recount how I stood inches away from them while they played on a high school auditorium stage and some thirteen year olds moshed and also is that word spelled right? It looks wrong.

Anyway. I thoroughly enjoyed myself that night because I didn’t know that I was supposed to be impressed. I didn’t waste time on awestruck. I just hung out and listened to some not bad music (I don’t mind the early stuff) and gossiped with my friends about which band member was hottest.

Two years later I saw the Red Hot Chili Peppers at the height of my Anthony Kiedis crush and I spent the whole time pinching myself and telling myself to be in the moment and enjoy myself and that omg I was at the Red Hot Chili Peppers and wasn’t it fun and wasn’t I having such a good time and I needed to enjoy every minute and soak in the music and bask in the liveness and have fun! have fun! have fun! and I don’t even remember anything about it except being stressed out about what a big deal it was and how I needed to really get into it and no matter what have lots! of! fun!.

I hate that it’s like this, but lately this is how parenthood feels for me. I’m not sure why. And I’m really not sure how to make it…not like this.

I hope it’s just because I’m tired. But I just feel out of it all the time. I feel like I’m interacting with everyone through a blurry layer – my world is viewed through vaseline coated lenses. I feel disconnected, like I’m living life with a weird tape delay, all the time. I tell myself, over and over, to be in the moment, to focus, to pay attention, to remember the gummy smiles and the babyness, to soak it all in as hard as I can, but I don’t want to remember Senor Pants’ childhood that way, always with an internal voice castigating myself to have fun.

I just want to be. I just want to hang out with Eli and make cookies and live my life. I don’t want to pressure anyone, least of all myself, into forced moments. But I’m not sure how to come out of this blur and I’m not sure how to let go of the idea that this mom thing is SO momentous and huge and big and awesome and SUCH A BIG DEAL. Because the only thing I can think of is that I need to let that go before I can chill the frick out and just be.

Maybe I need to have some more babies so I can get over myself.

Goal for the day: Get over myself. No, kidding. Goal for the Day is to figure out what the heck is wrong with Flickr so I can satisfy the hungry minions lusting for pictures of the Cutest Baby Ever (i.e. ma child).

I can’t continue to deprive the masses of this, after all:

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4 Responses

  1. Gah, he’s adorable! I pinch his little pasta-covered cheekies!

  2. You really do have SUCH an adorable kiddo.

    And, you know, UC Santa Cruz was one of the three schools I looked at. I still hold a special place for that school. If I had just been a bit braver, I would have gone.

  3. Hmmm. It strikes me that, since the life and times of Senor Pants is documented to some degree through your blog, which hopefully you’re keeping a copy of, you can always come back and re-live and review certain things through the written records and pictures. You never know what is going to make a memory anyway! Of all the things I did with and for my children, one of their memories is the time they rode in the back of an empty moving truck in their “church clothes,” after we had delivered our old bed to my brother-in-law’s house. If you had asked me which childhood events they would remember, I would NEVER have guess that would be one. Thus I would cast a vote for enjoying the moment and letting the memories create themselves. I have to say, though, I think it’s neat that you are thinking about that.
    P.S. He is adorable in pasta!

  4. oh so cute.
    Parenthood bugs me the same way.

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