xtcian

reunited and it feels so good

7/4/05

The longing you feel for your child after ten days of being apart - especially in the first twelve weeks - have few literary equals. The closest is Pullman's description of the "daemons" in the His Dark Materials books, a physical and emotional longing to your charge that becomes almost physically unendurable. When Tessa sent me this picture via email:

...I started crying in my stupid motel room in Las Cruces, New Mexico. It's those eyes, I guess, longing and beautiful.

A few words about the last day of the trip: I know everyone says "well, at least it's a dry heat" when describing the desert, but once it gets over 110 degrees, it doesn't really matter anymore. I've been inside saunas, even dry ones - but when an entire American state scorches, it's bizarrely oppressive and utterly inescapable.

One other thing - I always believe myself to be between five and fifteen pounds overweight depending on the year, but I have one thing to say after driving across the middle of this country: I am SO FUCKING THIN, YO! This country is so unbelievably porcine, so unflinchingly obese that it threatens to burst in a wild cataclysm of human fat. If I were a nutritionist, or even a basic G.P., I would consider a jaunt across this nation's beer belly an exercise in depression.

I know this is terribly mean and asinine, but I just had to snap this shot of a woman and her son at a Walmart in Baton Rouge. I sneaked a peek at her blood pressure - 170 over 110. Now, I'm no doctor, but isn't that a little... high?

Okay, so I'm an asshole. I missed my family and started taking pictures of strangers. Whilst I was slowly going mad from heat and desire, Tessa was taking Lucy on her first plane ride:

Apparently there were only a few screams before takeoff, and she slept the whole way across country. If breast milk is truly that palliative, I'm going to get some for my next flight. I heard it's quite sweet. I have to say, if guys could lactate, we'd spend all day making White Russians of our own secretion.

I've never had an airport moment so wonderful as seeing my two girls after so long on the road. They are such wonderful, mysterious creatures, these women. To counteract this mysticism and bring her down to my level, I tend to dress Lucy in some weird shit, like this sailor's uniform for Independence Day.

"no, but seriously, where's my 'I Wanna Rock' T-shirt?"

Salem was right - you can try to stop the "girls wear pink" ethos and strive for a gender-neutral family without any preconceptions, but after 12 weeks of Lucy, I basically want to put her in a bunny suit and cover her with fuchsia frosting.