August 30th, 2004

It’s hard to keep up with Landon and even harder to keep up with this journal. Tonight as I stare at the blinking cursor, I know there are a million thoughts I want to put down, and at the same time, am at a loss for where to begin.

Life with a son is overwhelming, I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but some time in the recent past my life completed the shift from a self directed progression through adulthood, into a wild orbit spinning tightly around my son (sun). It’s incredible, but all the same, involuntary, Landon has pulled me in like the tractor beam on the Death Star, and left me, just like the Falcon lost in his power of attraction.

We have still yet to officially witness Landon crawling forward. He can push himself up on his knees and rock forward and back, he can push himself backwards – often distancing himself even further from whatever object he is trying to reach, he can spin on his belly, and roll around like a steamroller, but as of yet still no official crawling has been observed by his parents. Landon still has yet to produce any teeth either, although the amount of drool he produces while chewing and smiling and breathing sometimes makes me wonder if he will someday shrivel up like a raisin from lack of hydration. Landon is definitely at the cusp of some big events.

Last weekend Landon and I visited the Santa Ana Zoo, which stands on a few measly acres adjacent to the 5 freeway, squeezed between apartment complexes and traffic signals. The zoo internally is not much more outstanding than its pathetic external surroundings. They have a few monkeys, some farm animals, a bald eagle with only one wing, and a few other wild animals from various random locations around the world. Our visit lasted a little over an hour – but we managed to cover the entire grounds, partly because the place is tiny, and partly because it was a sweltering afternoon and most of the animals took the chance to dodge the heat and sleep in the shade. I realized quickly that Landon had never seen a monkey in real life, so for him to differentiate between the unmoving, hairy, brown back of a monkey from the tree branch it was resting on, was near impossible. He did seem impressed by a large emu, and the waterfalls that were present in a few enclosures definitely caught his eye consistently. I realized that one of the amazing things about having a child will be sharing those first experiences with him. I can only imagine what he will think of his first real live elephant or giraffe or okapi – I can’t wait!

Landon and I went swimming yesterday afternoon in his grandparent’s (Sharp) pool. He continues to enjoy the water, although occasionally a splash of water in his face can send him cringing into his father’s arms. Dakota joined us in the pool as well – Landon appeared a little jealous of her swimming prowess at times, but more often than not, her presence, as usual evoked smiles and giggles. I’m afraid to put his little face in the water, but at the same time I’m morbidly curious to see if he will instinctively hold his breath. Basically the thought of his terrified mother screaming from the pool’s edge as her son coughs out some unexpected water delays this experiment – probably just another strong example of why Landon is lucky to have Rhiannon as his mother.

August 17th, 2004

Happy Birthday Landon! Today marks the end of the most life changing six months of my life, the craziest, happiest, most sleep deprived six months of my life. Today Landon Wyatt celebrates his sixth month birthday. February seems like an eternity ago - the tiny, pink, dark haired, peacefully sleeping, quietly wailing newborn has been supplanted by a curious, eternally moving, vocal, light haired, bottomless pit of a child. I can’t believe they are the same person. I am so constantly inundated by events involving the present day Landon, that the early Landon often seems distant and unreal. I can’t believe he was ever that little, then again he was never truly a petite newborn.

On Monday, our babysitter Stacey reported that Landon had taken his first crawl across the floor. Rhiannon and I have yet to witness this event, although every night now religiously involves some time with Landon on his quilt with gentle urging from his parents, desperately trying to recreate the infamous movement. So far our attempts have proved unsuccessful. There is no doubt however that Landon is close to gaining mobility, he often displays his ability to rise up on his hands and knees, rocking his body forward and back, intently urging his body to move - as of yet his limbs have failed to cooperate.

Landon has gained the ability to sit upright without support from a father’s hand or a soft pillow. Presently his time balanced on his bottom rarely exceeds a few minutes however, any distraction that evokes quick movement of his head brings him crashing down, head first, onto the floor below. Nonetheless, the progress in Landon’s activity, coordination, and control has been impressively rapid.

Our friends Ben and Leslie gave birth to their first child Zachary Clay last Thursday. I saw Ben last night and he proudly came carrying a laptop complete with a slide show of his new son. It was great to see the enthusiasm on his face; I could definitely sympathize with his excitement and relief that his son had arrived safe and healthy.

Last Sunday the family went to a birthday celebration for the child of one of Rhiannon’s coworkers. While there, halfway through a set of childish songs, belted out by a man behind a guitar boasting a forced smile several sizes too big for his face, I received a call from my friend Iwan on my cell phone. I described where I was, and the events that were transpiring around me, drooling toddlers, wobbling around eating grass, and listening to the incessant jubilee dripping from the big smile guy. He responded that we was just getting up, and thinking about heading to the beach. More importantly he astutely noted that he couldn’t believe how different our lives had become. Sometimes I struggle with this reality as well. My life a few year’s ago involved planning fly fishing trips to Mammoth, poker nights and watching the sun set from the line up. Now I’m often asleep before ten, up shortly after dawn, and always tired without the ability to ever catch up or slow down. I sing silly songs (I may have always done that), play with bright toys and fly spoonfuls of mush into a toothless grin. My life has changed and I miss some of the things that I have left behind, but I now cherish the mush and the songs more than I ever thought I could.

Little has changed on the home front other than Landon’s growth and development. He still has a father frustrated with his career and inability to provide a better situation for his family. And we continue to live in a cave-like condo in Irvine; often I come home to find my son already asleep after my painfully long commute home through Southern California traffic. Landon is a lightening rod though; he never fails to elicit a smile from me, no matter how long or painful a day I have suffered through, nothing warms me like his beaming expressions.