Elmo Can Take a Hike

I have heard from many parents, even those who aren't into the latest toddler craze, that toddlers have a deep and sometimes disturbing attachment to Elmo. This guy:



Not Johan. He has an Elmo doll at my mom's house and is still only mildly interested. He is, however, in love with Snuffle-upugus. That strange, mammoth, elephant-type guy who is friends with Big Bird. This guy:



We have a Sesame Street book that Johan likes to read every night before bed, and he always wants to turn back to the pages with Snuffy on them. And tonight he leaned forward and kissed the page. And then kissed Snuffy over and over again.

I love it that Johan breaks with convention and prefers the slow, unwieldy, quiet Snuffy to the hyperactive, popular Elmo. I wonder if they have a Snuffy doll? Not tickle-me-Snuffy, though. That would be gross.

The reason it sucks to have phenomenal friends...

is that it's hard to live far away from them.

It's great to have friends that are smart and talented and ambitious and adventurous and independent and determined to make something of themselves and the world around them. What would there to be to like about them if they weren't? The hard part is when one might move to the Hoppe res where I'm pretty sure I'd have to rent a horse to navigate the trails and to go visit her and another is planning to move to South Africa. I just checked flights and in May it looks to be about $1300 to fly from Minneapolis to Johannesburg. This is less than I thought it would be, incidentally.

It's hard to not be excited for these excellent people- great opportunities to explore the world. But it's also hard to not be sad about the prospect of so much distance- especially when the nearness makes me feel happy and fulfilled. I don't doubt the friendships- time and distance aren't the kinds of things that would undo these relationships, but the idea that my once-in-awhile weekends with my closest friends could become even fewer and farther between makes me sad.

Dirt!

Today I picked Johan up from school and his face and hands were all dirty. Not in the way where one might be concerned that he wasn't being well taken care of, but in that great way where you can tell he's had lots fun. It made me feel happy. I have a strong sense of joy associated with memories of coming in the house after playing outside for hours on spring and summer nights, covered in sand and dirt and dust. Then taking a warm bath and falling asleep in my bed. It's not a specific memory of a certain day--more of an association of dirt and grub on my hands and face meaning I had had wonderful fun. I was glad to see Johan's grubby little hands and so enjoy witnessing him experience the joy of getting dirty.

Get yer hair did.

When I was a melancholy, dramatic, gum-smacking teen (no, assholes, I am not those things anymore), I placed a lot of significance on my hair. When my not-yet-diagnosed mentally ill ex-boyfriend broke up with me, after I peeled myself off the floor, I cut off all of my hair. Only because he had really liked my long hair. It made me feel better than I had in months.

I no longer place the same importance on hair as I once did, but yesterday I had a terrible day at work. I found out I lost a trial (my first big loss) and there was a major clerical error by one of the staff on another file that made me look like an idiot and may have made my case worse. So, just a general crappy day. The kind that must be ended with a few glasses of wine.

I had scheduled an appointment to have my hair cut yesterday evening a few weeks ago. After work, I went to the salon and had maybe 4 inches cut. More than I had planned, but I was ready to remove remnants of my no good very bad day. And, you know what? It sort of worked. I left feeling better, lighter, less angry/annoyed. Could have been the warm Spring sun, too, but I can't help but feeling that a haircut is a good remedy for the blues.

Separation

I haven't spent a night away from Johan since he was born. Is that strange? Not sure.

When we were doing Johan's first music class, there was a set of twins around the same age as Johan (around 9 months back then) and their parents spent a week in Mexico and left the twins with the grandparents.

I have also just recently learned that a sister of a friend who has a daughter just a few weeks older than J is leaving the little girl for 3 weeks with the grandparents to go to Europe this summer.

I have no interest in spending 3 weeks away from Johan at this point, but maybe it's time for an overnight apart?

Welcome!

April 3, 2009:

Mom: Hey Johan, guess what? Friend Erika had her little baby Siri today! Great news! A new friend for you to play with and boss around!

Johan:




(Translation: Happy Birthday Siri. We can't wait to meet you.)

New Photos of Johan

adios hair:

last photo with curls: