I'm Fucking Tired

I'm mentally tired. I'm physically tired. Who isn't?

Here's the part that is inconsistent. I'm happy. The boy is very happy. I'm trying to do my best to keep da baby mommy happy.

I envied the dog the other day. And not for the reason you might think. I envied him because he had his balls chopped off and couldn't have little versions of himself. His life was all about his personal needs. His balls-less needs. Eating, shitting and sleeping.

Abrupt subject shift. Book and movie reviews. My current reading materiel is Fathers and Sons, but Ivan Turgenev. Fantastic. If you are a father, or a son that is past high school, I recommend this book. I saw myself in one character, but I never realized the impact. McCarthy's The Road. Coen brothers No Country for Old Men, based on McCarthy's novel. Since finishing W&P, my reads have included amongst others Shantaram (lovely, especially if you are a Maha from Mumbai) . I missed bombay after reading this book, in more sense than one.

Wife, if you read this, you are almost 30. Old lady.

Shaan, you can not read, but today, you stood up on your own without support. You pushed off from a free object and held yourself up. I was a proud father. You looked confident and determined. Your legs were strong. You composed yourself. You balanced. You held steady for about 10 seconds. Then you fell. Tumbling to the ground in a heap of wild arm movements. Then you did the best thing. You stopped. Composed yourself. Looked left. Looked right. Got your bearings. Shook it off and stood right back up again. Then you fell again. And you stood right back up again.

I still dont have the words to describe when I am around you. I know the role and personality I play when I am away from you. When I see you, I see the fortuitous combination of your mother and I. You are a lucky man-boy-child.