Current mood:	excited
Entry tags:	love family baby pregnancy pregnant life

Life as Art
Remember when you were a kid in art class? Back in those heady days when you held such remarkable pride in your creative efforts? You'd shout, "Hey, I made this!" And you had. That was your little contribution to the Earth's art collection. Without you....that beautiful piece of art would never had existed; nothing exactly like it would have ever come to be....had you not excitedly touched your brush to the canvas, or, using those thick-handled safety scissors, sliced through the multi-colored construction paper with such wild abandonment.

Funny how a child's raw creative spirit can be perceived so - as untamed and seemingly reckless. I remember being perfectly aware of every brush stroke and every curve and cross my tools made as I completed what I was sure would be my next masterpiece. My path was focused and determined, and while I wasn't always sure of where the path would take me, it was never my way to toss paint at paper, call it art, and leave it up to the viewer to decide what the hell it all meant. This probably explains my disdain for most poetry.....

.....ANYWAY.....

The other day, while knee-deep in furniture-building (not exactly my strong suit)(I had to put together the armoir - a beautiful gift from the in-laws), I had a few moments where I would have liked to have just tossed in the towel, burnt it all, and started from scratch. Sadly, I am not rich enough to do so (Hell, if I could, just once....light a fine cigar with a $100 bill.......hey, why not? If not, just once?) I'm sure you've all had your moments where you may have wondered what it would be like to start over? Like hitting the "Restart" button on the NES, it means you can cleanse yourself of the negativity and all the BS and begin again with fresh perspective and the hope that you'll do better this next time. It's very similar to the way I feel at every tee box. "Thank JEBUS that's behind me, this is a NEW hole."

Well, I couldn't do it with the the furniture project...and I won't be able to do it with my son. I'll only be able to build on my successes and failures. It's so scary to think about...the permanence of it all. It's not a job or a car or some other investment that is totally expendable. This is it. The most important thing I will ever do. (*don't fuck it up*don't fuck it up*don't fuck it up*)

We are now at 28 weeks.....the beginning of the THIRD Trimester. Lizz and I had our last (sort of) scheduled Ultrasound yesterday. At this point we've really warmed up to the clinical world - we walk in and know where to go; where to sit; where to check in; where to be seen. I know what magazines they'll have sitting on the tables that will be worth reading. I know where my mother's office is (They just moved her to a windowed suite facing the Beltline! Hurray!) and where the scale is that I can use to weight myself (I'm losing weight to get into toddler-chasing shape). It's all slowly becoming routine...but an air of OMFG-this-is-for-real! still exists and permeates of every movement and decision and thought and dream. It's inescapable. But I wouldn't trade it for a truckload of bacon. The focus and excitement I feel is unlike anything I've ever experienced. I suppose it's akin to the time that Lizz brought home six boxes of porn, but persistent and ridiculously more tasteful.

The little one was sleeping, of course (he's never been one to cooperate with clinical visits. It may be the hospital-like environment or the fact that he thrives on the nightlife - I wonder where he gets that from?), but we managed to get a few good shots. He's less of a zygote now and more of....well, my son. He's breathtaking. He has a combination of both of our facial features....a mash-up, of sorts. He's thankfully prettier than me....but has decided to take my nose and thick bottom lip - he's already practicing stickin' it out there to gain the attention and ends he seeks. Smart kid. He gets that from mom.

As we stood silently in that room, I thought about what his facial expression meant. I so wanted him to smile. I can't wait for that first smile. Think of what it means!!! Much like those initial twinges of alcohol invading your pulse from that first beer swilled down in celebration of a hard day's labor...the electrical impulses sent directly to the pleasure centers of your brain from the muscles in your face serve to invigorate, electrify and recharge any of what was lost while you toiled in depravity of depression, anxiety, or just some random shitty mood. Someone or something made you smile. Not because they had to...but because they could. Or, perhaps it was for some selfish reason unbeknownst to you. No matter...it's power granted you a short reprieve from hardship and sorrow.

In terms of accomplishment, a single smile can become so much more powerful than any piece of art, written word, catchy tune, class credit, job promotion or sporting victory....if you appreciate it for what it's really worth. When we're at our lowest, a "simple" smile brought on through the caring thoughtfulness of another is worth all the beans in Peru.

So don't pout little one, you're at the beginning of the most fabulous journey anything can ever take - life. It'll be hard....it'll be sad.....but it will everything else as well. Let's take this trip together....all of us. Let's hold hands and make the best. Let's smile.

It's frightening to think that there was a time when we were all as helpless and seemingly unaware as our young fellow is right now, but at the same time this reminds us that we've all started out as mere cells and ink and paper and paint and ideas and dreams and we've all become who we are because of a MILLION other ideas and dreams, actions and reactions.

Living art....that's what we are. Who's responsible for it all? Who knows for sure. I'd say it's us.....not some deity on high, enthroned with immeasurable power; tossing us from side to side as marionettes in some voyeuristic fantasy world. What sadness is that, to think we have NO control; that every thing we touch we touch because we were meant to.

    To this I say, "Balderdash!" This child of mine, while he is an amazing gift - one that I am SO thankful for...so much that i cannot ramble to the point where I'd even BEGIN to express my gratitude - is the result of Lizz and I having sex and then following through with that commitment. Now, these choices are not for everyone, but they fit us....and our place in the world. This child is a blank canvas - the most beautiful blank canvas I've ever seen - on which we paint our brightest picture; our truest line; our most perfect circle. We will shape our masterpiece as we did as children with love in our hearts. We will recognize the canvas' infinite possibility and we will excitedly exclaim on high, "WE MADE THIS!"