My reality

My blog needs more pictures, I was complaining to Vader the other day. Not because I need them to decorate the blog or to capture the memories for myself, but because I think, many times, they can better communicate the experience at any one time than words. Because either Vader or I am behind the camera, maybe baby Elephant will one day understand why we take certain pictures of him, and what emotions we wished to capture and freeze in time. Perhaps these pictures will help him catch glimpses of our reality with him when he is still not fully aware of his.

Here are some pictures of baby Elephant in action.

I finally figured out how to reposition my pictures, very rudimentary stuff I know... but I was puzzled by it hahhahhahaha.......

I was catching up with a friend the other day, and her daughter came to join us for dessert after school. She reached out to caress her daughter's cheek and hair, but of course, her daughter responded by backing away and brushing away her hand. Humoured, I commented that I used to do the exact same thing when my mum tried to touch my hair or cheek. Her daughter smiled in agreement, like she felt I understood why she backed away. What I failed to add, was that now that I have a son, I understood why mothers instinctively reach out to touch their children. I find myself constantly touching baby Elephant's hair, cheeks, kissing his head and eyes when he's asleep. I think to mothers, our children will always be miracles of creation. For me, I know baby Elephant is a gift that I've been honoured with and that I don't deserve. So I reach out to touch him to convince myself that he is real, that it is not a gift I hope for or that I'm dreaming about. When I put my face to his head and inhale his sweaty baby smell, my eyes close unconsciously as I let myself be overtaken by his presence. Then his legs give hulk-like kicks against my arm, and he shrieks into my ear to be hugged or carried, and I know. I know this is as real as it gets. As quickly as my child sends me into a giddy fantasy about how sweet babies are, he also drags me back to reality at breakneck speed, when he bounces nonstop, reaches out for everything in sight to play with or for the next piece of furniture to pull himself up on.

We're always tempted to say, baby Elephant got this certain trait from me, or from Vader. Well, I'd like to pretend I can speak up for baby Elephant now and say that while he's certainly inherited our genes, he is still, a hundred percent himself. That is the reality I would like him to live out, that he needs to discover his own dreams, his own mission in life and live it.