miscellania

It seems like almost everyone I follow on Twitter or my blogroll has recently started running and is signing up to do 5Ks and half marathons. I'm reminded of a dream that I had when I was pregnant with Nico. For as long as I can remember, running is the one thing I can never do in dreams. I can walk, but as soon as I start to try to run, it's like I'm moving through Jello. Lots of times in my dreams I will end up crawling along on hands and knees because it's faster than trying to run. I don't know if this is some screwed up aspect of my psyche manifesting or if it's sleep paralysis or something else entirely, but it's weird and sort of frustrating. But one night during my pregnancy, I dreamed that I was running, I was free, my body was carrying me along and it was exhiliarating. I woke up and I thought, that's why people run. And also, I want to do that. Maybe someday I will, though I don't think they've invented a sports bra that could allow it right now.

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Speaking of dreams, I must be reaching the saturation point with all the episodes of The Wire that I've watched. I've got season five on DVD from the library after watching the previous four seasons in succession, and the other night I dreamed that I offered Marlo Stanfield shelter in the (nonexistent) apartment in my garage. When I told MB about it, he said, "That's crazy. You'd offer it to Omar first." Damn straight I would. If Omar dies before the end of the show, don't tell me. I need to believe he rides off into the sunset in the finale. It's a goddamn marvel, this show, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't sometimes make me wish I was a drinker so I could drink myself to sleep after watching a few episodes. It's so fundamentally sad, especially season four.

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I just finished reading Olive Kitteridge for the Book Lushes, and I really liked it. It seems to be a love it or hate it kind of book, and the most remarkable thing about it for me is that it made me want to write again. The tone and pacing and voices of the characters tripped something in my brain and I spent a few days after I finished it walking around composing passages in my head, something I haven't done in at least a year. One of my old college writing classmates contacted me on facebook a few weeks ago and has set up a get-together for a writing group in June, and I am really looking forward to it. Could I write fiction again? I feel a glimmer of hope that I could.

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Overall he doesn't do a type of music that appeals to me, but the photographer who took Nico's picture a few weeks back has this song on her website, and I could listen to it over and over:

I'm the same way about Rihanna's "Umbrella," to be honest. I sometimes look it up on YouTube when MB's not around and hit replay about forty times. Does anyone else do that? If so, what songs catch you in their web?

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Are you sick of hearing about my kid? I hope not, because I need to tell you that I bought him a package of SIZE THREE DIAPERS yesterday. SIIIIIZE THREEEEEE. OMFG. He seems to have blown right past his 3 - 6 month clothes, and I can't figure out how that happened. How did he go from still fitting into his 0-3s (albeit just barely) and now not even a full month later he's busting out of the 3-6s? Crazy talk, that's what that is. I'm suddenly extra glad for the handful of 6-9 rompers that were in the box of hand-me-downs my cousin gave me. Somehow we ended up with a quarter of a zillion 0-3 clothes, a billion 3-6s, a few dozen 6-9s, and barely any 9-12s. Then he's got an entire plastic tote each jammed full of 12-18s and 18-24s. Apparently I'm prejudiced against 9-12 month clothes for some reason. I guess it's a good thing he'll probably be in that size at the end of the summer, because apparently he's going to be mostly naked.

His new things: 1. Screech-squealing at top volume and way up in dolphin-speak octaves. The dog is not a fan. 2. Locating and grabbing his feet. Makes it hard to get diapers on him, but it's so damn cute. One of the girls at breastfeeding group last time said she found her daughter in her crib one day with both big toes in her mouth, so I'm waiting for that and fully expect to keel over dead from the adorability. 3. Actually putting toys into his mouth. He's still a bit hit-or-miss on the hand / mouth coordination, but he's getting much better. He has this rattle that looks like a weird lumpy caterpillar with a mohawk, and so far it's his favorite to nom. I live in constant fear that the dog is going to find and eat it. I suppose it's inevitable that the dog will one day eat one of his stuffed toys, so maybe it's better that he do it now before Nico knows the difference. But man I'd be bummed if that weirdass little caterpillar bit it.

Oh, and 4. Rolling over. He's become a champion of rolling onto his front and then getting stuck there. I keep telling him he needs to stay on his belly and practice rolling back to his back, but he's not convinced. Here he is demonstrating #1 and #4 while dressed in the most adorable owl pajamas ever made: