New glasses

I'm in a bit of a writer's slump (as evidenced by the skipped week on this page, for which I heartily apologize to my loyal few), which usually puts me on the road to maudlin, but I'm not really there yet. I'm working on stuff. I should be content with the content I'm producing, but I'm not. Actually, tonight is the first I've really felt sort of down in the dumps. I don't think it's about the writing, though (for once).

So, why the long face? I think this is all coming from the fact that I took my oldest to get glasses today. It's a minor case of near-sightedness, and he picked out the coolest horn-rimmed Clark Kent-looking glasses, and he's unbelievably cute in them. On the way home from picking them up, he kept checking himself out in the rearview mirror from the back seat. About halfway home, he mentioned that maybe his estranged "girlfriend" would notice him again (the quotes are because he's in second grade and had declared her his girlfriend last year until she discovered that he still listened to the Wiggles and dumped him for his childish predilections, the bitch). He and I talked about how I had different girlfriends before I met his mom. We talked about how some of them hurt me and how I hurt some of them (more often the former, but that's another story). It dawned on me that my kid was getting older and wasn't just a kid anymore. He's beginning to experience what will become adult emotions. His eyes are opening to a world that's bigger than the one he's always lived in. As a parent, I know I'm supposed to be working toward the day when my children are independent entities, making use of all the wisdom I have imparted on them over their formative years to make true and wise decisions. It's supposed to be the whole reason for this endeavor, right? But I actually really enjoy them how they are right now. I love their dependence on me. I love their innocence and their unflinching, unswerving adoration for me and my wife. I love that they come running and leap into my arms when I walk through the door at the end of the day. I know it won't last forever, and I think that's what's got me in this funk tonight.

There are three ways to look at life. You can dwell on the past, basing all of your judgements on what has come before. You can live entirely for the future, which seems to be nothing but making plans all the time and never actually reaching a goal. Or you can focus on what's right in front of you here and now. Most people (myself included) phase in and out of these three states, but everyone is predisposed to default to one of the three for the majority of their time. I'm a present tense sort of guy. Sure, I'll make plans. I have dreams of where I'd like to be in five, ten, twenty years. And I get nostalgic, too. I see my childhood through a Norman Rockwellian soft focus filter. But when the reality of the past or the future confronts me, I get a little wigged out. I tailspin into downtown Downsville. It doesn't really last, though. I'll pull out of it and be back to form in a few days. For now, thanks for indulging my downward spiral. I'll try to keep this sort of navel-gazing to a minimum.