I was an intolerable grump last night. I get that way sometimes. I complained to my wife that I got a grand total of two things accomplished at work yesterday. I had a much loftier to-do list compiled that sat, unglanced at, for the duration of the day as I fed the seemingly insatiable demands of others. Such is often the case at work. So that's why I'm at the office right now. On a Saturday. Getting some of the stuff done that avoided my intentions yesterday.
Plus I do my best not to look at my Mastercard balance. Still has most of the wedding on that. Every time I ponder too hard on that particular number, which, believe me, is MUCH larger that 2, I get a little out of sorts. That also was a contributor to my mood last night. I assuaged myself by consuming the rest of the orange sherbet in the freezer. There was about half a litre left in the container. I felt much better after that.
And then this morning, I realized, for the umpteenth time, how very little I have to gripe about. I awoke to a beautifully snow-covered world and my son and I got up and had a grand time together for the few hours before his mom got up. I took this picture just after 6, before the sun had come up. Welcome to Alberta in mid-October.
I have been in the habit, on the weekends, of getting up when our 5-month old does and letting Amy sleep for another 2-3 hours.
(Her ability to sleep, when given the opportunity, still astounds me.) Since I'm normally up between 5.00 and 5.30am anyway, getting up just after 6.00am to hang out with my boy is really no trial. We normally start by ensuring his, uh, backyard is freshly diapered and head out to the living room to play on the floor. Lately, a blanket laid out on the floor has been the best toy for him.
He starts getting a little fussy after about an hour, so he gets plopped into the high chair and a small bowl of warm oatmeal / rice / barley / mixed grains is soon on its way. I am just as astounded at his ability to eat as I mentioned being at Amy's ability to sleep.
I felt a little further chagrin this morning knowing that one of my coworkers has a son just a few months older than my own, and he's currently struggling with the fact that he may be nearly blind. The most frustrating part of this whole ordeal, and what surely has my coworker gnashing his teeth, is that his son will be two years old before 'they' will be able to determine the severity of his son's vision problem!
I also know this fellow, Jaquandor (his net moniker), whose own new addition may suffer some potential long-term effects from not getting enough oxygen during the birth. Again, it will probably be years before the full ramifications for him are known.
So this morning, I will consider myself to be very well blessed at the opportunity to awaken to a beautifully serene landscape and to be able to share it with my son, who giggles gleefully sometimes just at the sight of his father, and who is in perfect health. He just spits up a little too much. But if I had to eat the same stuff he did, I probably would too.
Now... What am I doing still at my desk... ?
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