2003-09-12, 7:45 a.m.

The activity gym (neither a gym nor boasting of 'activities' in the normal way, but whatever) (I mean, it's bright, it's primary-colored, it's got thingies dangling from it so a baby learns to use his arms playing with them - and its other virtues, which are plenty, I assure you, are really quite a mystery to me. Anyway....) buys me about 10-15 minutes of time to drink my coffee in the morning and wake up enough, but just barely enough, to act like a human with the baby. The boy (the boi) gets me up at 6:15 a.m. today. Anyone who knows me knows that this is not a good hour. Anyway. He is all smiles and gurgles and snorts about this time, and I am trying my hardest to locate my human being face somewhere around here amidst all the unfolded laundry and primary colors.

Whew. I was going to put a little suit on him yesterday (a onesie, if you must know) because he hadn't worn it yet. This baby was a huge gift magnet. But it was too small, already too small and never once worn. But the label said 0-3 months, up to 11 lbs. Of course, he's not quite 2 months and now weighs nearly 13. The pride of the size has already begun. I already have visions of myself standing in a playground, my hair blowing every which way in the wind, maybe holding with one tight hand onto a jungle gym bar (this is a technicolor dream - I'm even wearing blue jeans and a turtleneck - and I hate turtlenecks), boasting to someone's mommy that my boi can eat more cheeseburgers in one sitting than your boi.

The sun is on the trees and the dark sky is behind the trees. A black line above, and a white bank off in the north. Good morning, Colorado. All I want to do is read and walk, go walking with my boy (boi).

| diaryland |