Denver Mom continues to have a good time in France. Actually, that's not entirely accurate. The last time I talked to her, she seemed to be having a great time, practically bubbling over with her discoveries, both big and small. She seems to be having every bit of the trip of a lifetime I had hoped she would have.
Chunk and I? We're doing okay. We haven't had as much time as I thought we would. Although my intention was to take some time off and just spend it goofing off with my son, I've been putting in eight hours days all week to make sure I get everything off my desk in a timely manner.
We did manage to make it to the Apex Center for swimming on Tuesday. We went early in the morning, as we usually do, because it's a better fit for Chunk and his particular personality quirks.
He's an odd kid. He's not really afraid of anything, as a matter of fact, he's completely fearless, but he is a little shy, especially around other kids. In a public place like the swimming pool, he'll just hover around a parent and watch the other kids, rather than jump in the water and have fun himself. So, if we go early in the morning, we usually get the pool to ourselves and he gains a little confidence. And, as an added bonus, the water is usually a little warmer for the senior water aerobics class that starts at 7:00.
Did I mention fearless? He's fearless. He has no problem leaping off the side of the pool and into the water. He charges for the deep end of the pool, not once considering that the water might be too deep for him. He demands to be "put down" even when the water is deep enough to come up to his dad's armpits.
So, the question is, when do we develop fear? When do we suddenly find ourselves afraid of what could happen once we spring from the diving board? When do we suddenly start dreading trips abroad or weeks alone with our children, too consumed with the "what ifs" to rev ourselves up to enjoy it, the anticipation of it?
I wasn't afraid of these weeks alone with Chunk, but I know that I wasn't looking forward to them either. I depend on Denver Mom a lot. She depends on me. And, frankly, a lot of things become more difficult when you're alone with a child. Doing the dishes takes more effort. Making the bed. Getting dinner ready. It all takes just a little bit more, because your attention is divided, your "third eye" constantly searching for dangers and potential dangers, while you're trying to tackle your task.
But, the thing is, it hasn't been bad. Even when Chunk has been at his worst, cranky after a night of tossing and turning, it's all been surprisingly manageable. Like the diving board, once you're airborne you just have to toss caution aside and enjoy it. There's not much you can do about it anyway, so why worry?
I'm hoping that after the meeting I have in the office in an hour, I can stop working so much and get to the goofing off that Chunk and I had planned for this week. Tomorrow... maybe we'll hit the Children's Museum or the Aquarium.