Six Months!

Six Months!, a photo by carolinearmijo on Flickr.

Oliver turned six months old yesterday! That was a very fast six months. Granted yesterday felt super long.

On Tuesday night, we watched "The Artist is Present," a documentary about performance artist Marina Abramovic’s exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art in 2010. She sat for 716 hours and some odd minutes and gazed in people’s eyes. I actually enjoyed the documentary a lot more than I expected, because I was really in the mood for something funny. But what I left with was the notion that being present is very hard work. And there is no way I would ever consider looking into the eyes of that many people, especially the freaks that came out for this three month exhibit. By the end, there was one guy who had tattooed the number 21 on his arm because he had sat with her 21 times. And that was one of the more sensible characters highlighted.

After singing Happy Birthday over breakfast and sending the other half of the family off to school, Oliver and I retired to his bedroom. I was determined to get him to nap in his crib. And I did for a very brief period of time several times throughout the day. By lunch time I touched base with Henry and told him that I was being present. Granted I had checked my email and Facebook probably a dozen plus times on my phone. So was I really? Being present is super hard, especially when the other person doesn’t have much more to say than daaaaaaaaa. But we read a few books, played with his toys and shared lots of hugs and kisses.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted and sore from sitting so much in my super comfy rocker. I don’t know how Abramovic did it. Granted she was able to go home every evening to soak in her tub, get massages and eat delicious food. Compared to her previous performances, which were being recreated by younger proteges throughout the museum, this seemed pretty tame. But by the end, I think that her latest work might have been more demanding.

I am thankful that the last six months have been so much easier than my first six months with Lucy. And I figured as much. But I don’t know that I am going to spend so much time focusing on getting Oliver in the crib again. After a birthday dinner with Mom and Dad, I sent Henry to buy more batteries for the swing. And that, my friend, was the best gift I could ever ask for. He has slept in his swing so much today. More than the entire last month combined, except I had to keep waking him up. I am sure that his shots helped.