Maybe she’ll be an orchestra conductor, or maybe a dictator.
A kid learning to communicate is both amazing and annoying. In the beginning, there are no words, it’s just a lot of pointing and moan-grunting. During this “dictator pointing phase,” Isabel pointed at everything and anything from the second she woke up. She’d point at the wall and say, “cat,” or point at the dust in the air and just grunt. And even though she’s learning words now, we still get our fair share of whines that are supposed to mean something (well, they do her her noggin).
But I also can’t help but wonder, “What will she be?” I don’t think there are man job openings for dictators, but she could very well be a conductor (I don’t know where she’ll get her musical chops from, but all the power to her). I think about whether she’ll want to be an educator like her mama or grandmothers, or maybe an athlete, or an artist living in an urban loft. Will she be a lawyer, or a doctor or…?
The dad blogger community lost one of its leaders over the weekend to lung cancer. While I didn’t know Oren Miller personally, and barely knew him virtually, it is because of him that I am part of a supportive community of over 1,000 members. He left behind two young children (6 and 4), whom he will never know what they become, and I think that hit me the hardest.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t hold Isabel a little tighter these last few nights, trying to appreciate what I have even more, and trying to embrace what Oren called, “Heaven on Earth.” A heaven he found in everyday places, just being with his children.
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