kids

the other thing I want to write about (in addition to work and life and lost time and love) is Eli. having a kid is one of those amazing experiences that you live and (most days) love and can't remember later. boyhood was so good because in two hours you could witness all the things that you would normally forget about your child growing up. i watched it by myself one night when nobody was here including my own kid and, of course, at the end i cried during the final scene when the mother says "i just thought there would be more." but what is more? every day is one more day and one more amazing or mundane or boring experience with the child. i always thought that perhaps this is the  most important and adds up to all there is and stops you from asking for "more," but i don't know. i love listening to him though. based on the stuff that comes out of his mouth, Eli is one of those kids who seems extremely prescient, somehow all-seeing and wise beyond his years from time to time:

me: it will be so hot today, i don't like it.
eli: you are not hot, mommy, you are cold. you are a loner, you always will be, he said this morning.

i of course was speechless and thought, how does he know this about me? is it so obvious?

but then he said: and your butt is big and smelly and i will fart on you...

and all was well and as it should be.