Rhythm, Tempo, Variation
So. (I still blame Seamus Heaney for that opening, and the extent to which it has permeated my writing.) June is long since flown, and July is sputtering to a close. Perhaps not precisely sputtering...simmering down to the bottom of the pot. Here's to hoping August is not more heat on empty cookware.
Stay-at-home-dadness has been a treat and a challenge. (What more could anybody expect?) Ivan has his good and bad days, as do I, and we muddle through. There's the morning nap (most days), the afternoon nap (most days), the various feedings, the expectant minutes waiting for Amanda to get home. The rhythm is similar without ever reduplicating itself, the tempo varying from day to day. The Kid is in the nascent stages of mobility, which development will certainly add wrinkles to the routine.
As for me, I still grumble when the weather's too warm. I still spend more time at loose ends than I should (although a constantly shifting, unpredictable schedule makes loose ends an inevitability). On the ultimate front, we're just moving into our big, six-week push towards the sectional tournament. I'm finally starting to get my ultimate legs back underneath me, to have that extra gear for chasing down hucks, the extra zip in my forehand to bend it around a defender. Fitness wise, I've got a ways to go yet. I'm hoping the weather cooperates by cooling down so I can get outside in the evenings.
The other night I finally got some writing done, after hoping vainly for writing time for most of the month. It wasn't much--just an impromptu snippet meant as a vignette--but it gives me hope. Getting words out has been a bit of a challenge lately, as I've poked and prodded various projects without getting the characters to breathe and speak and act. There is coffee in the house again, and the plan is to try (for, I think, the third week running) to shuffle my "self" time from after Amanda and the Ivan are asleep to before the latter awakens. I'm also in the market for a 12-16 oz. coffee press so I don't have to make full pots.
Adults lack time for too many hobbies. Especially adults with kids. Temporally, children (like art and the best kind of research) behave like a gas: they expand to fill the container you put them in. In this case, the container is life. The best you can do is to try and make some bubbles for your own things.
Last but not least: thank you to my folks (and family-at-large) for all they have done and continue to do. While recent events are responsible for the timing of this message, they're not responsible at all for the sentiment. My family has not only encouraged me in various endeavours, they've provided the support to make those endeavours feasible.
Stay-at-home-dadness has been a treat and a challenge. (What more could anybody expect?) Ivan has his good and bad days, as do I, and we muddle through. There's the morning nap (most days), the afternoon nap (most days), the various feedings, the expectant minutes waiting for Amanda to get home. The rhythm is similar without ever reduplicating itself, the tempo varying from day to day. The Kid is in the nascent stages of mobility, which development will certainly add wrinkles to the routine.
As for me, I still grumble when the weather's too warm. I still spend more time at loose ends than I should (although a constantly shifting, unpredictable schedule makes loose ends an inevitability). On the ultimate front, we're just moving into our big, six-week push towards the sectional tournament. I'm finally starting to get my ultimate legs back underneath me, to have that extra gear for chasing down hucks, the extra zip in my forehand to bend it around a defender. Fitness wise, I've got a ways to go yet. I'm hoping the weather cooperates by cooling down so I can get outside in the evenings.
The other night I finally got some writing done, after hoping vainly for writing time for most of the month. It wasn't much--just an impromptu snippet meant as a vignette--but it gives me hope. Getting words out has been a bit of a challenge lately, as I've poked and prodded various projects without getting the characters to breathe and speak and act. There is coffee in the house again, and the plan is to try (for, I think, the third week running) to shuffle my "self" time from after Amanda and the Ivan are asleep to before the latter awakens. I'm also in the market for a 12-16 oz. coffee press so I don't have to make full pots.
Adults lack time for too many hobbies. Especially adults with kids. Temporally, children (like art and the best kind of research) behave like a gas: they expand to fill the container you put them in. In this case, the container is life. The best you can do is to try and make some bubbles for your own things.
Last but not least: thank you to my folks (and family-at-large) for all they have done and continue to do. While recent events are responsible for the timing of this message, they're not responsible at all for the sentiment. My family has not only encouraged me in various endeavours, they've provided the support to make those endeavours feasible.
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