I can't help thinking of larvae, pupae, bugs.
This term, "emerging adult," coined by Jeffrey Arnett, refers to folks between the ages of 18-29, people who haven't quite found themselves, who are perhaps still on the parental dole, who have every intention of becoming an adult but have thus far failed to make the cut.
The Cut - a matter of definition, I suppose. What exactly constitutes an "adult?"
My daughter was once an "emerging adult," but when she made the conscious decision to have a baby, she grew up, or rather hatched.
8/30/14
Tick Tock
Time travels with her tail between her legs.
Three plus months ago, I witnessed a miracle.
I still see the moment as if it were now.
I will remember that moment as I do
the birth of my daughter and both of my sons,
now adults themselves, or well on their way.
I still see skinny legs, unsteady steps.
Sidewinding, submissive—the years slink by.
The past is in the present, but where am I?
Three plus months ago, I witnessed a miracle.
I still see the moment as if it were now.
I will remember that moment as I do
the birth of my daughter and both of my sons,
now adults themselves, or well on their way.
I still see skinny legs, unsteady steps.
Sidewinding, submissive—the years slink by.
The past is in the present, but where am I?
8/25/14
Home is where I hang my hat.
Damn it. I am doing it again. This is the last time I will make a home out of mere material structure. If this house ever becomes less than a home, "home" will just have to become a space inside my head, a state of mind. In fact, isn't this really what home is?
Day after day, I travel between hardware, paint, and furniture store, click through pages on the web, spend countless hours and too many dollars gathering various and sundry goods that might "make this house a home." I moan over my failure to acquire or accomplish an item on my list, argue over someone else's incompetence, tally time and effort and lament a glaring lack of return. And for what? So that at the end of the day - after I have put away tools, assembled an evening meal, and finally kicked off my shoes - I might feel at home?
Day after day, I travel between hardware, paint, and furniture store, click through pages on the web, spend countless hours and too many dollars gathering various and sundry goods that might "make this house a home." I moan over my failure to acquire or accomplish an item on my list, argue over someone else's incompetence, tally time and effort and lament a glaring lack of return. And for what? So that at the end of the day - after I have put away tools, assembled an evening meal, and finally kicked off my shoes - I might feel at home?
8/24/14
Oh O!
My darling granddaughter, O, has just recently discovered that her feet are with her wherever she goes! Not only are they apparently attached to her body, it seems she might have some actual control over them (wide-eyed gasp)! Credit to her O-so-obvious genius, O (at the very tender age of three months) knows a good thing when she sees it. Those toes do indeed look delicious! No doubt it is only a matter of days before they find their way into O's mouth.
8/22/14
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