Tapestry

HBM has had some lovely thinky posts about narcissism lately. To my mind, it's kind of ridiculous to deny narcissism. Everybody is narcissistic to some extent. We are all the star of our own reality show, and each and every person in our lives are either co-stars or supporting actors. And hell, I'm interested in the minutiae of your life, so why couldn't you be interested in mine? I think people are endlessly fascinating, and never tire of the different ways that different people deal with the same situation. That is precisely why reality tv is such a booming industry. Don't tell me you don't like reality tv, I won't believe you. I thought I didn't like it either. Now I sit glued to the tv when American Idol and Top Model is on. It's the vicarious thrill of superiority, when I can sit on my comfy couch, wear my "fat pants" and say things like "That's the wrong song for her" or "Her eyes are dead in that photo - she should act more". Let it be known that if I were in their exact same situation, I would make all the same mistakes, even armed with the info I have now. If you have a tv, chances are you're watching some version of a reality show. If you're not, it's simply because they haven't invented one that catches your fancy yet. Give it time. They will.

In fact, I would argue that in creating these "mommy blogs" (how did that get to have derogatory connotations, anyways?), we have, in fact created our own reality tv show: "The Mom-iverse". The difference, to me, is that instead of sitting back and criticizing the naive singers and vapid models, I sit back and learn a thing or two from people who are in the same situation as me. Instead of criticizing, I read and think things like "Wow, so that's what you're supposed to do!" or "Wow, I don't think think I know all the meanings of those words, much less think I could use them together in a sentence!". Is it narcissistic to think that someone out there is deriving the same pleasure from reading my blog, from reading the minutiae of my life, that I have in reading theirs? Maybe. If so, I say narcissism is Hot! (Thanks, Paris). Why must we belittle the minutiae? What has the minutiae ever done to you? That is how we live our lives - a series of random moments that create a rich tapestry of life. Of course the minutiae seem unimportant if you don't see it in context. Put together, the individual threads are beautiful to behold. The delicious feeling of watching these "minor" events unfold, in my life and in the lives of the blogs I read, gives me a sense of connectedness. And when I someday sit back and see the tapestry as a whole, I will see it as beautiful not simply because life is beautiful, but because I am invested in that life. I had a part in the creation, even that part was only the minor role of observer.

So, in the interest of keeping this Mommy Blog a proud "tapestry to feel and see; impossible to hold", let me share with you some trivial details of my life, which I maintain are anything but trivial - to me (but then, I am a narcissist)...

In the past week:

1) I took the Boy to 2-year-old birthday party celebrating the birthdays of all the children in my mom's group. It was at Gymboree, and though the Boy didn't participate in any of the group activities (I think he was overwhelmed), he did crawl through tunnels, walk a balance beam, climb over hills, and play basketball with an adult-sized ball. The Boy doesn't normally get this much "gross motor activity", prefering to play with his cars and Little People. He napped for 2.5 hours afterwards.

2) While the Boy and I were outside the house waiting for daddy to come home, a pre-baby runner friend of mine named George jogged by. He stopped to say hello, and we had a short conversation sprinkled with random non-sequiturial comments from the Boy, who didn't like that the conversation was not directed at him. To keep him from protesting too much, I would ask him sporadic questions like "Where's Daddy?" (Daddy's at work), "Where's the Boy's house?" (Over dere). After the last question, the Boy turned to George and asked him "Where George's house?". That's the first time I believe he has ever asked someone a question about a subject that didn't directly relate to him.

3) The Boy started taking my hand to go for walks. In fact, we walked two whole city blocks in this fashion - from Starbucks to the Library, and back again. Up till now, walking, for the Boy has meant "mummy carry you". My heart and my arms have never been so light.


So, if you're out there wondering "What good amid these, O me, O life?", take heart. I, for one, am listening.