one small corner of the universe

And I would, for once in my freakin’ life, be on time instead of all paranoid the night before (where IS everyone? is this the right day?) or straggling in at the last minute on the day-of (oh, THERE you are–am I late?).

Sometimes when I daydream about living in London, jaunting around town on the tube, walking the crowded streets and shopping at outdoor markets, I get a nice clear picture in my mind of myself as a city dweller. Bri is always in that picture. Bri doesn’t live in London, but when she talks of her life in Brooklyn, a place I have never been, I imagine London. Somehow the two images have merged, and Wes and Bri are my fantasy London neighbors, and we run into each other at Portabello Road some Saturdays. We are all drinking coffee, and Bri and I are pushing strollers, and that is the point here. Soon, when the weather starts to turn a little cooler and TK is a little older, Bri will talk of pushing her boy in his stroller to the market (or the storage facility, as the case may be), and that image will make me as happy as picturing myself people watching in Trafalgar Square.

I’ve mentioned this before, but there are people–“in real life” people–whose brows furrow skeptically when I talk of my Blog Friends. “But…you don’t really…KNOW those people.” I always just shrug and change the subject, but as anyone who blogs knows, I do know “those people.” And they know me. It is a different kind of friendship, but it is not a lesser one. So thinking about Bri and Wes and GMB as they await the arrival of one more makes me very happy, the kind of happy you feel for your friends. I smile even now to imagine TK in his little designer clothes, crawling madly toward a wary chiuaua, saying “shit!” repeatedly from his high chair and laughing at the admiring gazes of his family. Ah, the joys of parenthood.

Today my daughter fell asleep with her head on my lap. I could smell the Johnson’s baby shampoo mingling with sweat in her wild curls, and there was a Cheerio stuck to her chubby thigh. When she woke she immediately looked up at me and her whole face lit up in a smile, as if my presence somehow surprised and delighted her. She lay there for a few minutes playing with my hands and grabbing my chin, and I relished the cuddle–she prefers the floor over my lap these days. And sure enough, she started squirming so I put her down among the stuffed animals and blocks and such, and she set off. And then she stopped and turned around to face me, a smile still playing on her face, and she lifted her little hand in her version of a wave before she turned and dove at her favorite ball. It was a lifetime in a moment, and today I wish you a lifetime of these moments.

Congratulations, friends. It’s going to be a wild ride.