Sunday March 29th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about something that is: limitless.

I was allowed to sleep until 7 this morning, which felt relatively glorious. And while I am still feeling the lingering effects of this cold, it's never gotten especially bad. So that's all good.

Max, on the other hand, is going through a rough stretch. I don't think he's sick, just dealing with a lot of stuff. Teething, moving around too much this last month, too many people coming and going, and just a general lack of routine.

We're hoping to get things back to basically normal this week as far as our schedules go, so hopefully that helps.

Mine:

Dear Max,

There are some moments, some hours, some days that I am convinced that you are testing the limits. Of our rules, of your abilities, of gravity, of my patience.

That last one most of all, I am not proud to admit.

I know so much of this world must be incomprehensible to you. I know that, relatively speaking, you just got here and there's so much you've yet to learn. Like all the emotions surging through your body and the words you need to express them. I know, most of all, that you are innocent.

And sometimes I forget. I forget all that I know for just long enough for my patience to run out. I say things I immediately regret. I apologize afterward, I always do, but words seem inadequate.

There are other moments. Ones during which I see things differently. That you are utterly, blissfully unaware that limits are present. Why can't you climb that? Why not throw that? Why not try that, use that, touch that? Why not, really, do it all?

On those occasions I realize the truth: that you are limitless.

And a part of me, quite a large part of me actually, envies you. What a world to live in. What endless possibilities you must see.

And I am sorry to be one of the people who breaks the illusion. Know that I try not to do so unless it is necessary. And that I probably do it more than I need to, in my attempts to keep you safe. And know too that I do my best to encourage you onward, to preserve your belief in yourself and your endless abilities.

But most of all, know that I love you. Always.

Always and forever,

Your Dada