Reproducto the Wonder Boy
After dropping off Constance at the Damen El stop this morning, I continued onto Wilson Avenue, rocking out to the latest Kings of Leon album while attempting to bypass the bevy of new-condo construction that stands between me and my loft office. If I could sprout wings and do a flyover of my condo-fied neighborhood, I imagine it would look like one enormous red brick separated by a series of traffic jams and liberally dotted with Starbucks stores, Chase Banks and Catholic churches.
Upon turning the corner, I spotted a little boy, about five, who was slightly chubby with a mop of immaculate blond hair. Had I been a believer in out-of-body experiences or time travel, I would have thought it was me from another era (an era where I had hair, obviously). More than likely my vision was induced by a weekend seduction at the hands of The Time Traveler’s Wife - delving into 500+ pages of infertility-related fiction over the course of three days was both heartbreaking and gratifying.
It could also be that ovulation (if I so much as breathe Constance’s hormones I turn into Reproducto the Wonder Boy) has reignited my biological clock, and this desperation to see myself in the child form is a function of its annoying tick. Regardless, I took my eyes off the road and watched that boy traipsing down the block, smiling and skipping beside his father as the driving rock music accentuated their loving gait, and I blew right through a four-way stop.
Chemically, I’m not myself today. Physically, though, I’m still in one piece and so is our PT Cruiser. Constance will be furious with me upon reading this, worrying that I put our future in danger during an instance of wishful-parent insanity. The could-have-been accident scared me, but that little boy made my day. He was perfect, and so was the moment.
And finally, Jenn over at The Mama Wannabe tagged me for an “I Am” poem some time ago, and I let it slip my mind because on occasion I can be unbelievably flighty. I will be unveiling my attempt tomorrow - sorry for the wait.
Filed under: Oops …, When I'm a Dad ...
You did what??? Just teasing, all dangerous driving is forgiven with the assurance that you, by-standards, and our car are each okay. By the way, for those who don’t know, the PT Cruiser has an amazing amount of front passenger leg room, which is essential for an almost 6′5″ husband who will always choose passenger-ing over driving when given the chance.
And I completely understand seeing your self / future child in someone else’s. One of the things I am anxious for most is to see what our child will look like. I am so inpatient that I would even consider springing for an appointment with one of these when our reproductive bits decide to cooperate: http://www.insidethewombultrasound.com/
Watch the road!!! I admire your togetherness on this most difficult of issues–infertility. I look forward to reading how things unfold–and hope for the best for you two.
I really think you let it slip your mind because you know your poem won’t compare to mine. Or not… I do look forward to it no matter how much more your poem kicks my poem’s ass.
I too understand the could-have-been phenomenon. Picture me and my sister at Restoration Hardware looking at all the retro gifts they offer for which Santa could stuff my husband’s stocking. And there he was, this little red haired boy just rocking out on a harmonica.
My sis immediately turned to me and said that was so how my child would be - my red hair and my husband’s love of playing without any sense of melody on a variety of annoying musical instruments.
Needless to say, I bought a harmonica for his stocking. But when I look back and think about the little harmonica man, I feel hopeful and that maybe I did get a glimpse at our future.
Sorry for the random memory there but you aren’t alone in that thinking way. You might be alone in the 6′5” man who drives a PT Cruiser but not the wishful thinking.
All my best to you and Constance!
Hey, it would be sacriledge to crash such a beautiful car!
I love how you and Constance are both so excited about this, I can just imagine what a great mommy and daddy you’ll make.
Thanks for stopping by my blog. I loved your previous post about egg drop at your in-laws. You have a fantastic witty writing style.
I’ve had similar experiences. One in particular when a co-worker brought his little girl to work. She was what I imagined my daughter (should I ever have one) would be like. Complete with spunky little attitude. It was what solidified my desire to have kids, back when infertility wasn’t even a thought.
On a side note…. been meaning to pick up the new Kings of Leon CD. I’ve only heard the first released song and I like it - but I hear that it’s not the best song on the album. Thanks for the reminder that I need to go get that. This weekend for sure.
I get those moments too. When I see an adorable child it reminds me of how much I yearn for my own.
It will happen. Someday.
Thank you, Bumble — what a nice thing to say! You are going to make an excellent parent yourself one day very soon.
OOo keep your eye on the road=) I get carried away with day dreaming too–can be dangerous! I love that you all are so tied in this together–a team effort! That will make all the difference! Hugs to you both!
Uh! Gosh. Mind on the road! (These creative types.)
I do think your interpretation rings true.
Bea
Sending you all good reproductive hormonal vibes, your way!!!
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