Richie told me about the "Pregnancy Points Game" he and his wife developed while waiting for their boy Oz to arrive. It goes like this: Each act of kindness he bestowed upon her, rubbing her feet, cooking dinner, cleaning the loo, was worth points. Five, ten, maybe twenty for an excellent seven course Italian dinner. The most points wins.
Delivering a baby is worth One Hundred Fifty Thousand points. Richie is still trying to win. He's at two-twenty.
I am also trying to win. However, a natural childbirth is worth Half a Million points. Attending and aiding the birth gave me as much as Richie has after nine months of his travails. I'm still only at six hundred and two. Eat that Costleigh! (No, I mean, that. Chicken Parmesan.)
But the little kindnesses I manage to orchestrate give deeper satisfaction than winning affords. As do those of our friends. Wes and Laura came by last night with their eight month old, Quentin. Laura made us a beef stew. We sat around watching Q play with Lu's toys, admiring both of their newness. What a treat! I realized how closed in we've been for the last week and a half, snow notwithstanding.
I am forcing myself to go out and do something completely unrelated to child rearing for a few hours to better appreciate these moments. They'll never come again. The moments, that is...not Wes & Laura. I hope.
Through the blinding light of eternal wonder, we don our collective shades of spiritual guidance, or, as the case may be, personal framework of vague principles, and witness the sweet beauty of what most call, but others do not, A Blog Of Note.
No comments:
Post a Comment