No eye catching videos or sweet pictures (which take longer to get from google to this page than you would think) on this post.
Avi is in the tub right now and I am sitting on the bathroom floor. The length of this post (and the grammar, punctuation and spelling) will be completely dependant on how long I can write while she sits quietly.
I have neglected my writing for a while here. I burned out after November 4th. I had written so much, thought about so much, that I got tired. Finishing my semester, the holidays and what not and just being lazy have kept me from putting fingers to key board for longer than I am comfortable with.
The blog started about a year ago. The purpose of which was multi-layered. The primary purpose was, when my family all got together, I had so many things on my mind, so many things that I just had to talk about, that I would walk into a room and interrupt whoever was talking to say what I had to say, cause frankly the shit was important. I realized in my mature state that I was driving my siblings crazy. The website became a way for me to get to talk about all the shit that mattered to me, sports, politics, movies, whatever, in a way that would not piss them off, and that they could read at their own pace.
I have found my brain (Terry Gilmore’s Head) to be much, much less crowded, and my relationships with my siblings have benefitted greatly.
On politics. The last two days have been amazing. To see the man go to work so quickly, and DO all the things he promised he would do right out of the gate has been awesome. To be able to go to bed at night knowing that someone was taking care of things is reassurance that an anxiety stricken mind sorely needed.
He works hard, he works long, and he is nothing like 43. I simply love it. I now understand the people who have pictures of their president on their wall. I would gladly hang a picture of O in my house.
So much has happened, it seems like so fast in my life. My baby is a kid now. Which is something I think I have taken in stride. I try to not get too upset about her growing up. My thought process has always been that if I spend all my time sad that she is getting big, I will never stop to enjoy the Getting Big part.
I made a conscious choice, at four months, exhausted, (read the myspace blogs if you don’t believe me) that I would enjoy this, tired, stressed, I would enjoy it. I have a year and a half (she is a year and a half tomorrow. July 23rd, 2007. 7:44 am, it was a Monday, she had tiny hands and my uncle Greg’s face, she slept through the first night, she smiled the day she was born, she fit in my hand and the gravity she pulled down on me crushed everything I thought mattered. She stormed into my life like a tornado with a nine-month warning, I am rambling I know. She weighed 6 pounds 7 ounces and and my hands were made to hold her, my elbows bent just so, right dad? 18 months in a heart beat. She talks now. She laughs now.) of amazing memories.
My life is in Three Dimensions. I turn around and it is there. I turn around and it is there. I turn around and it is there.
The little boy, who still feels like a little boy took lessons from Atlas and threw it all up on is not-so-broad shoulders. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes (too often) heart racing over nothing. Three Dimensions.