Debbi and I’ve been watching a lot of movies lately. That’s nice. I love stories, which is one of the reason I love people: they all have such wonderful stories.
Last night we watched Chinese Ghost Story. It was recommended by someone, somewhere, based on something else we liked, and it really was awesome. Over-the-top Chinese, 80s, sci-fi horror acting and terrible 80s music video special effects, but we loved every minute of it. It was kind of a mix between horror and slap-stick. Combined with the effects, it reminded me several times of Evil Dead, minus the kick-ass, supernatural kÌung-fu choreography.
Tonight, we watched Stranger Than Fiction, based on recommendations from several people, including the Zombie, prime. Personally, I love Will Ferrel. He’s been great in everything I’ve seen him in (though didn’t enjoy the newscaster movie so much). However, I really liked the way this movie combined meta narrative with quirky, but believable characters. Maybe it was Dustin Hoffman, but it reminded me in bits of a less zany I Heart Huckabees.
Yesterday, we watched Man of the Year. That was pretty good, too. Definitely much better than it’s limited run suggested.Not really the comedy it was billed as, but more of a satire with a heart-warming, reaffirming, realistic end.
Inbetween movies, I watch the Aiden. He wiggles. All the time, he’s moving, feeling that stillness is insufferable. Too many things to touch. And everything goes into his hands and then into his mouth. He purposefully tastes on anything he comes across. It’s made me wonder what part of the world Ówe’re missing by not tasting more things.
He smiles a lot. Talks a lot. I’m not sure what he says, but he has his own language. He must, because he talks all the time. He talks to the air, to the couch, to the dog, to me, and sometimes just to pass the time. His language has Ds, Hs, and kind of a foreshortened L, all punctuated with vowels of varying lengths and changes in pitch and volume. His favorite seems to be louder.
Yesterday, I watched him climb into the chair in the living room. Today, he climbed onto the couch. Friday, he stood beside the kitchen table and stretched to grab bolts from the table-top. In a matter of days, all of our safe places have become unsafe. The laundry basket we’ve used to fence him into the main living area? He climbs on top of it now and likes to sit there and bounce.
His falls have become more acrobatic. He’s still trying to master standing, so his gyroscope still isn’t correctly dialed in. Yesterday, he was standing by the coffee table. He started to lean in one direction, and I think he tried tor each out with a hand and grab the edge of the table. And maybe tried adjusting his posture to regain his balance. Whatever he tried to do, the end result was he went up on one leg, spun a instantaneous 360, and slammed the his eyebrow on the table’s edge before landing flat on his back.
He falls a lot, and most times, he’s ok, so I just let him be. But he fell so hard this time, I jumped up immediately to make sure he hadn’t cracked his skull open. He lay there for a second, started to cry, and then stopped much sooner than I expected a fall like that to let him.
It’s almost one a.m., now, and the Aiden’s still up. We have to be careful now. Everything’s so interesting, if he’s given the chance, he’ll go from sleepy baby to indefatigable world explorer in about two minutes. He’s conquering the world right now, as I speak. Hopefully, I can calm him down and let the sleepies bring the dreams to his head.