11 September 2005

It feels like autumn

My daughter, she grows. Strong, independent and seemingly clever. My knitting does not happen. Most of my projects and many of my desires seem cast aside in order to maintain the life I created. Sometimes it's a drag for various reasons. But, as I bust my ass cleaning surfaces that become dirty over and over again, and I follow her around making sure that she stays alive and learns how us humans are supposed to do things, I remember that I could have all the chances I want to read novels and how-to manuals, finally organize the house, create all the arts and crafts I can conceive of, and more! So much more, I think wistfully. Except, to have all that space and time would probably mean an empty house without the tension and goofiness and LIFE that my own house is bursting with these days.

To watch Hazel, at times, is to learn something about myself. The way too much emotion overwhelms her. The way she pays attention to (almost) everything and slowly comes to her own understanding. These characteristics I also posess, and I realize that they aren't a function of how my mother raised me, or how some event shaped my life. They're just a part of me, and now they're just a part of Hazel, too. Don't burst upon either of us with a big, "HIIIIIIIII!" Instead, cast a sweet smile our way, and then maybe an interesting comment. Then, once we get to know you, give us tons and tons of attention. We're lucky we have A. - he knows just what to do.