Day-meres

I am an incredibly grim person with a negative attitude and I view my life in black and white sketches like an Edward Gorey cartoon. I'm not sure if this is outwardly evident because I'm constantly trying to censor myself to the general public, although much less so (maybe a negligible amount) with friends of mine. I am reminded quite often of a situation early on in my relationship with J.

Picture it: President's weekend 2003, Washington, D.C.

A winter storm had blown through the district the previous evening closing many roads and grounding planes all along the east coast. J. worked for the Kennedy Center at the time (although now he's moved on to eating babies) and American Ballet Theater's performance of Romeo and Juliet began that week. The storm made road travel difficult and closed several businesses including the K.C. (which never closes)...but the dancers were on their way to D.C. by train and needed to get to the K.C. Jason needed to help the dancers to their hotels and I came along for the ride. Prior to this I had never attended a ballet and knew nothing about the art form; however, J. informed me that I would be meeting some of the most famous dancers in the world including Marcelo Gomez and Paloma Herrera.

So, we hop on this Kennedy Center Shuttle bus that was the only vehicle on the roads besides the snow plows (which by the way were stuck in snow drifts) and we start driving over to The Watergate with me standing in the aisle, holding onto a pole. As the bus started jostling and throwing me about, I looked down to see Paloma Herrera sitting with her feet on the floor right next to mine. The bus jostled and bumped about and I had a hard time keeping my footing. Although we arrived at the hotel without incident, in my twisted head, the bus knocked me off my feet and I landed on Paloma's feet, breaking her tibia and tearing all of the tendons in her ankles.

I bring this up mainly because I recently returned from a trip to Boulder, CO where I visited my only sibling, my brother-in-law, and my one month old niece. Although my niece isn't the first baby I've had access to, it is my first brand new relative with whom I've formed a connection. And she's so fragile. So, over the week, I imagined the following scenarios:

1) COFFEE NEAR BABIES MAKES ME NERVOUS. Waking from a good night's rest, I make my way downstairs to brew a pot of coffee. The blinding sunlight enters the kitchen through the sliding glass door. I pour myself a hot cup of coffee and add the appropriate amounts of creme and sugar (I like my coffee like I like my circle of friends - a couple drips and a lump (just kidding)). As I make my way towards the sofa to be reminded that Elizabeth from Survivor Australia IS in fact a host on The View, sunlight reflected from a collander temporarily blinds me, I trip, and boiling hot coffee splashes all over the baby's face and scalp (who was harmelessly lying in her "Soothing Vibrations" chair).

2) HOLDING A BABY IS A BIG RESPONSIBILITY. My sister hands me Emma for the first time and I take her uncertainly and hold her head firmly in one hand and her little bottom in the other. My sister plays a joke and asks me what time it is. I don't realize that this is a joke and I check the time on my hand that is holding the baby's head. The baby's neck muscles are insufficient to support the weight of her skull and her neck flops back causing irreversible damage.

3) PLAYGROUNDS, CLUMSY ADOLESCENTS, AND BABIES ARE AN ACCIDENT WAITING TO HAPPEN. Sis and I take Emma into the neighborhood park in her stroller. The sun sets beautifully over the Rocky Mountains to the west, and all of the 10-12 year olds are running around playing TV tag where you can unfreeze somebody by crawling through their legs and shouting out the name of a favorite TV show. As we push the stoller down the walkway, a clumsy teenager tries to free a friend from being frozen and as he shouts out "Gilmore Girls" his head rams into the carriage, knocking poor baby to the ground. The newly thawed friend trips over the clumsy teenager and lands on top of poor baby.

Well, anyway, except for projectile poop, I made it through the week without any major mishaps...and by Wednesday I was able to stop playing these scenarios out in my head. Emma is incredibly beautiful and I can't wait until I get to see her again.