enjoy it!

September 26, 2012

do you remember those long, long conversations you used to have when you were a teenager, or a 20 something?  when you and your friends would sit for hours on a beach or a bench, or when you and your soul mate would lie all nite under the stars, and never stop talking?  what were the crazy and pointless things we had to say to each other?  the staid, the stupid, the stupendous, the staggering things we could talk for hours about.

hours and hours would drift or flash by, we’d be happy and sated.  we’d discover things about each other, about the universe… really important things.  those conversations would flow and drift and gallop and pause.  and it was all wonderful.

i had occasion today to talk to one of my dearest girlfriends for an hour and half.  that’s a big deal so let me repeat it- an hour and half of uninterrupted conversation! (gawd, i don’t want to see the coming phone bill.)  why, really, has this become a big deal?  i’ve just been reminiscing about conversations lasting all day and all nite.  well, it’s because as we progress thru life, accumulating all the things you do as you go, finding and making time, for conversations gets harder and harder, slipping away, even being pushed away.  the things we accumulate; the necessity of paying bills, of gaining and keeping a job to acquire the things that come with bills attached, children, sleep, study, aging parents, memberships, hobbies, volunteering, commuting…  none are conducive to sitting still, letting the moment and the light wash over you and communing with a friend.

my friend will be a first time mum in a little over a month.  she’s just finished up full-time work and tally had an extraordinarily long nap today, due to being sick (poor little tike.)  hence we were both at home at the same time.  i warned her she’s not going to be able to enjoy long conversations any more.  it’s a thing that has frustrated me for the past five and half years.  it’s not even necessarily that kids take up so much time, adding in their constant interruptions, it’s that what with everything else we are cramming into our lives we have so little time to talk to our friends we don’t finish one conversation or topic or train of thought, before launching into another.  we have 18 hours of talking to jam into 18 minutes.  it can’t be done.  we don’t even finish sentences, let alone a full conversation.

perhaps this will change again once our children are finding their friends and their conversations.  we’ll get time back for ours.  i hope we do, i also hope that into our circle of conversations we can also draw our kids.  being friends and conversing with percy and tally is something i want almost as much as i want to be their mother.

so, teenage percy and tally, if you read this, i want to tell you to relish the conversation and relinquish the time.  enjoy it while you have it!  isn’t that an old adage?

Happy 3rd Birthday, Talvin

September 18, 2012

to my darling tally,

on the 12th of august we celebrated your third year of life.  what a special, gorgeous boy you are.  i’m so happy you’re with us.  you are sweet and cheeky, brave and kind, soft and funny.

it’s been a delight to have you in our lives for the past three years, i’m thrilled to think we’ll travel together for many more to come.  you are so loved by all of us.  even percy, whom you sometimes bug so much and irritate her to the point she’ll give you a thump (what are siblings for, hey?), loves you with all her heart.  we know that you love us, that you are confident in your knowledge of your place with us.  you always refer to us as “my percy’, “my mamma”, “my pappa.”  you’re very right, you know.  we’ll always belong to you.

these three years have gone so quickly (even the past 4 weeks have flown by, i’m late in posting a message for your birthday.)  i sometimes wish we could have them again, but then i think of all the great things that are yet to come…  will you keep delighting us and freaking us out?!  i’m sure you will.  i think of the funny games you play and ridiculous things you say; like wanting to “break oopi open to see what’s inside,” and making your food talk; “hello pappa, i’m a bana” (you haven’t got the other ‘na’ on the end of banana yet)

you don’t remember but you freaked us out for a year between six months of age and 18 months, when you pretty much threw up everything you ate.  you fell off the bottom of the weight scale and doctors started saying things like “failure to thrive…”  you’re still a skinny thing and oh how you are thriving!  nothing and no-one is out of bounds for you.  i hope, my son, you’ll forever thrive on new things and new experiences.  smile that gorgeous creased-eye grin of yours and say ‘hello’, it’s worked well so far!  there’s so many more people and places to say hello to and get to know.  let’s get around to a few more together, hey?  when you’re ready to see and make friends with the rest on your own, i’ll let your fingers slide from mine with a catch in my heart that only i’ll see.  it’s the catch on a latch that will never close.  it’s there for you, to open and to visit whenever you want.  because as much as you are my son, i always and forever belong to you.