Reality Check

I think I had a mid-mid life crisis last night- might still be having it.  Nothing too serious; there's no sports car parked out front, no hair plugs implanted, or any other traditional sign of anti-aging.  But aging does factor in.  Since the birth of my son, I am feeling much, much, much older.  My eyes are a bit baggier, my boobs are a bit saggier, my hairs a bit frazzlier- that's not even a word, but it describes its current state.  I've always been a pretty low maintenance lady- opting for flip-flops, a pony tail and a pair of dark shades to look cool.  However, the prospect of make-up seems necessary.  As for the mid-mid life meltdown, I decided that Jesse and I should get tattoos for our upcoming 4th wedding anniversary.  If you know me, you know I hate three things on this planet: (1) snakes, (2) needles/ shots, and (3) snakes carrying needles and administering shots.  What would be more ironic is if I wanted to get a tattoo of a snake- but since this is only a crisis, none of the inking will ever happen.  

Part two of the mid-mid-meltdown, I made Jesse promise to go to a Metallica concert with me.  Prior to the procreation, I was a major concert junkie.  Nothing beats the excitement of a live show.  My best friend and I even travelled across country to see Widespread Panic at the Greek Theater for three nights in Berkeley to celebrate our college graduation.  I don't know what was more rock n' roll, the band's amazing performance or the super sketchy Green Tortoise Hostel we stayed in.  You needed a tetanus shot just to open your room door.  Ahhh, the good old days.  It just dawned on me that what might be the catalyst is my 29th birthday, still safely on the horizon, but the date is hurtling at me like a piece of blazing hot Space Lab shrapnel.  Frankly, I'm shocked that I even care.  Numbers like 29 or 30 shouldn't make a difference, but "should" is an utterly fruitless and annoying word. 

Luckily, Miles is shaping up to be a very hip kid.  Music seems like something he readily connects to.  Currently, we are playing "BA/BY- Lullaby interpretations of AC/DC."  It might be the most soothing album ever; I keep repeating track 5- "Back in Black."  It not only reminds me of the rockin' original version, but the song is so beautiful.  Miles also has what we call "The Wild Hair."  My parents will know exactly what I mean.  He's got a feisty and adventurous spirit that I cannot wait to see blossom.  I remember reading that children with Down Syndrome are typically low key and mellow- think it was from that parent handbook.  This was shortly after we got the diagnosis.  I was left with the false and sad impression that my son would be unresponsive and placid.  

Praise God- the kid is a spitfire.  I have had people, with the best intentions, tell me that "at least Miles will always be happy."  Ummm... that's not even true now.  What an awkward stereotype, and it certainly should not be bandied about as some sort of consolation prize for parents.  Regardless, Miles is a wonderfully wild child.  See for yourself!  (Hair styling courtesy of Daddy; tangle removal courtesy of Mama.)  He's also got a good dose or rebellion in those genes...