At Twenty-Seven Months

When we have children, we become (more hopeful) children all over again. As though all this time (until now), we only pretend/ed to be adults. 

I didn't learn to draw well enough, but here's what we drew together. (Mommy does it so much better!) I guess re-learning is a much as a treasure as learning.

While reading the other day, you described the pictures in the books: "monkey eating an apple." "Santa holding a present." From the books, you even recognize personalities: Jesus, Van Gogh, Nietzsche. But mostly, you'd rather see animated characters from cartoons or talking animals. We won't take your childhood away from you by teaching you what is Post-Impressionism or Existentialism. You'll find that out on your own. 

Before you sleep and I take off to work, you say "Good night Daddy . Take care, Daddy. I love you, Daddy." When you get naughty and we respond to your naughtiness, you counter with "Hug Mommy. Kiss Mommy." 

Together, we learn and re-learn. From ABCs to counting, the names of things, grasping language, singing nursery rhymes. Together, we do the silliest things and the sweetest things. 

In the blink of an eye, you'll be a whiny teenager sporting an unruly haircut. Maybe you'lld read Nietzsche and Camus, maybe you won't. You might say things like: the hourglass of existence runs quickly. But these days, we live in a realm of discovery and fascination that's inherent to a child. Magical is an honest emotion to describe what we are going through. So we insist to be always with you. In the theory of eternal recurrence, all this magic is happening always.

And all over again. As you sieze the day, you'll understand you don't only live once.