Warning: Syrupy Bog Ahead
English: Soppy; slushy; sloppy; sentimental; saccharine; queasy; namby-pamby; mushy; mawkish; gooey; fulsome; fruity; corny; cloying
Icelandic: væminn; tilfinningalegur; tilfinningasamur
These are the words to describe how I feel today.
I’ve been doing almost nothing but reading since Sunday. It’s really slowed me down a bit. I don’t feel angry or stressed. I’m not hyper or jovial. But maybe this has more to do with the fact that this morning when my alarm went off at 6:45 and I tried to reset it, I mistakenly set it for 7:50 instead of 7:05. At least I think it was a mistake. Anyway, back to the way I feel today. I feel this way because…well actually, it may be because Christmas is coming (though I’ve always felt more like the Grinch). Things are still going full speed right now but I know that in less than two weeks I’ll be on vacation. I feel very close to my boy today. We were alone for a while tonight as the wife and the daughter went off to do their own separate things this evening. I watched a bit of television with him and then I read him a story. I brushed his little teeth. The toothbrush tickling the roof of his mouth always makes him laugh. That makes it harder for me to do my job and the tickling lasts longer than it would otherwise. We talked a little. Then he went to bed. Sometimes I lie in bed and read and let him fall asleep next to me. I love to hear his little breath. His fingers twitch as sleep takes him off into the magical world of Dream. He’s a very beautiful boy (of course, I’m his father and thinking anything else would be considered wrong). He’s got a couple of little scars on his face. Once he fell off the couch and smashed his mouth into the edge of the coffee table hard enough to push his teeth through his bottom lip. But for the most part, he looks like a perfect little sculpture made of some light brownish soapstone or maybe polished jasper. Sometimes I find it impossible to read when he’s like that. I just have to stare at him.
How can it be that I had a hand (so to speak) in making this little thing? I’ve never made anything so beautiful before him; there was no precedent that would lead me to believe that I’d ever be able to make something like him. But his mother is beautiful, maybe that explains it. Everyone here says they see her in him and they see that Dagbjört’s his sister. I don’t see that. He doesn’t look anything like any of us, if you ask me.
A lot of men that I have met or I heard about seem to really want to spend as little time at home as possible. I don’t understand that. They say that it’s macho to work 90 hours a week or go out “for a cold one with the guys”, or both. Why would anyone want to just sit at home...unless there’s a game on the telly. But then you have to talk to your wife and who wants that headache? She won’t leave you alone to watch the tv and drink your beer, right? I figure that these people are examples of those who stopped developing when they stopped growing. They’ve got their priorities backwards. Or they’re married to the wrong person. Or they’re afraid to admit the truth to themselves or anyone else that they actually do love the family they had a part in forming. They’re losing a fantastic opportunity but they won’t realize it until they are dying...too late.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing everything that I can to make sure that I get to spend as much quality time as possible with my family. Once the kids are out building their own lives, I’ll spend free time traveling with Inga. We’ve got a long list of places to go. We have lots of books that need reading. I think I’ll be one of those old people who never seem bored. I’ve got so much to do “when I have time to.” But it all starts now. Why not live for today?
I enjoy what I’m doing in my life right now. There are things I want to change and all that, but for the most part, I perceive my life as a success. My son is a good example of that. He’s a strong runner and can climb like a monkey. He’s good to the other kids at the playschool-helping the little ones and playing with the big ones. He has very little trouble speaking two languages. He’s naturally curious-especially about animals. He’s lively but mostly well behaved.
He’s my greatest accomplishment.
Icelandic: væminn; tilfinningalegur; tilfinningasamur
These are the words to describe how I feel today.
I’ve been doing almost nothing but reading since Sunday. It’s really slowed me down a bit. I don’t feel angry or stressed. I’m not hyper or jovial. But maybe this has more to do with the fact that this morning when my alarm went off at 6:45 and I tried to reset it, I mistakenly set it for 7:50 instead of 7:05. At least I think it was a mistake. Anyway, back to the way I feel today. I feel this way because…well actually, it may be because Christmas is coming (though I’ve always felt more like the Grinch). Things are still going full speed right now but I know that in less than two weeks I’ll be on vacation. I feel very close to my boy today. We were alone for a while tonight as the wife and the daughter went off to do their own separate things this evening. I watched a bit of television with him and then I read him a story. I brushed his little teeth. The toothbrush tickling the roof of his mouth always makes him laugh. That makes it harder for me to do my job and the tickling lasts longer than it would otherwise. We talked a little. Then he went to bed. Sometimes I lie in bed and read and let him fall asleep next to me. I love to hear his little breath. His fingers twitch as sleep takes him off into the magical world of Dream. He’s a very beautiful boy (of course, I’m his father and thinking anything else would be considered wrong). He’s got a couple of little scars on his face. Once he fell off the couch and smashed his mouth into the edge of the coffee table hard enough to push his teeth through his bottom lip. But for the most part, he looks like a perfect little sculpture made of some light brownish soapstone or maybe polished jasper. Sometimes I find it impossible to read when he’s like that. I just have to stare at him.
How can it be that I had a hand (so to speak) in making this little thing? I’ve never made anything so beautiful before him; there was no precedent that would lead me to believe that I’d ever be able to make something like him. But his mother is beautiful, maybe that explains it. Everyone here says they see her in him and they see that Dagbjört’s his sister. I don’t see that. He doesn’t look anything like any of us, if you ask me.
A lot of men that I have met or I heard about seem to really want to spend as little time at home as possible. I don’t understand that. They say that it’s macho to work 90 hours a week or go out “for a cold one with the guys”, or both. Why would anyone want to just sit at home...unless there’s a game on the telly. But then you have to talk to your wife and who wants that headache? She won’t leave you alone to watch the tv and drink your beer, right? I figure that these people are examples of those who stopped developing when they stopped growing. They’ve got their priorities backwards. Or they’re married to the wrong person. Or they’re afraid to admit the truth to themselves or anyone else that they actually do love the family they had a part in forming. They’re losing a fantastic opportunity but they won’t realize it until they are dying...too late.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing everything that I can to make sure that I get to spend as much quality time as possible with my family. Once the kids are out building their own lives, I’ll spend free time traveling with Inga. We’ve got a long list of places to go. We have lots of books that need reading. I think I’ll be one of those old people who never seem bored. I’ve got so much to do “when I have time to.” But it all starts now. Why not live for today?
I enjoy what I’m doing in my life right now. There are things I want to change and all that, but for the most part, I perceive my life as a success. My son is a good example of that. He’s a strong runner and can climb like a monkey. He’s good to the other kids at the playschool-helping the little ones and playing with the big ones. He has very little trouble speaking two languages. He’s naturally curious-especially about animals. He’s lively but mostly well behaved.
He’s my greatest accomplishment.
posted by Our Hero, at 11:25 PM
1 Comments:
I know how you feel. I sometimes can’t believe that I had such a beautiful little girl. At times it’s hard to believe she’s actually my daughter. Then of course she goes and does something really naughty and I think; she’s mine all right.
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