Some days (y’know, the ones where I get dressed) I wish I had a photographer to follow me around to capture the tiny moments that compose my life. Or at least a tripod.
Today wasn’t going to be one of those days. I slept in, got dressed in slouchy clothes to do a little (very little) yoga, and happened to check my e-mail. There was an e-mail telling me my old coworkers were getting together for lunch today. I decided that if I could get ready in time, I’d go.
I did. After Hayden and I got home, it was so nice outside that we went to sit on our patio swing in the back yard. Hayden has always loved swinging there.
Being the little independent fella he is, it wasn’t long before he squirmed off my lap to sit on the swing by himself. He sat with his back against me, sometimes leaning his head back to rest on my chest. I don’t know what he was looking at—the wind chimes, maybe—but it wasn’t me. I looked down at him, his chubby little legs, his sticky hands, his wispy blondish hair—and he stared out at the bright world.
If I could have a picture of that moment, I would display it here and proclaim: this photo is our relationship (sometimes). I try to connect with him, but sometimes Hayden is just so absorbed in what he’s doing or playing with that there isn’t really room for me.
But I’m always there, supporting him, framing the environment of his play.
As I wished someone were there to take a picture to capture how distant I feel my son is sometimes, Hayden turned around and buried his face in my lap. He struggled to crawl into my lap, so I gathered him up and gave him a hug. Then I let him go play.