Our son, Cash, is turning nine months old tomorrow, which means he’s spent just as much time outside the womb as he spent inside the womb. Inside, we discovered, through sonograms and ultrasounds (don’t ask me to explain the difference because I know there is one but when I explain it, I start to mix up and switch between the two) that Cash was very active, hiccupped often and slept irregularly.
In the nine months of his life out there in the world, he’s held on to those traits. And developed many more. He enjoys viewing ceiling fans. Everywhere. On a recent trip to Camp Randall, we walked him into the McClain Center, the indoor football field. As I knelt down, I noticed he was in awe of something over my shoulder. I hoped it was the listing of the Rose Bowl champions (especially Daddy’s team in ’94!) or the mural of football helmets or the large, red motion W.
But, he was looking higher, to the ceiling where he quickly located the large industrial fans spinning, slow, long loops in their metal, circular cages.
In the morning, he takes the majesty of my spinning open the blinds of our large, living room window. His eyes wide open in amazement at the morning light sweeping in as he smiles big. Lately, I pull the blinds up about a foot and he playfully tugs on the strings, while balancing his stance on the couch cushions.
He gets overly excited, especially in my opinion, whenever one of the cats enters the room. Explosive breaths and flapping arms as he lunges his body towards the hesitant kitties. His energy more than they can handle in most any moment. Because he’s still a bit too rough with cats, he doesn’t get to spend as time as he’d like with them.
At the risk of sounding like a dating profile, Cash also enjoys pounding everything he touches against the ground, silly bubble baths, dining in-mostly purees and yogurts-long crawls across the floor and stroller rides through the park capped off with some pushes on the swing.
Right now, I prognosticate his profession will be a morning drive radio host. He has lots to say with lots of energy at 6 AM. “Listen to Cash in the morning on W…” has a nice ring to it.
Of course, by the time he’s an adult and in the job market, radio could very well be dead. I can only imagine what job prospects await him in the future. He’ll just have to keep his eyes open then for an opportunity that will suit his interests and skills. Sometimes the perfect job is hard to come by and he’ll find you can’t always get what you’d like in every moment.
My hope is that whatever Cash does in life, he still feels the burst of excitement and hope every morning when the living room blinds open.