If you’ve been around for a while, you know how I feel about nighttime (if you haven’t, there are links at the end for background).
I’ve made a career of insomnia. And to add insult to sleep-deprived injury, there’s something about the dark hours that I find intimidating. I write missives in the dark, when I’m feeling small and isolated and more human than I’d like to. Thankfully, with very few exceptions, I feel better in the morning. Restored.
Not today.
This morning, I was in a Get the Fuck out of My Way sort of mood, made infinitely worse by the woman with the bright pink Betsey Johnson shopping bag who shoved past me into the already-full Four Express. I’m not one to be rude to strangers, so I closed my eyes and thought mean, vengeful thoughts. That’d show her!
Vengeful and late, I flew up the escalators and into Grand Central, my heels making sharp clacking sounds against the marble floors, I caught a glimpse of a wall clock and pushed on even faster. Three minutes to get to Fifth Ave. Three. It’s amazing what being a few minutes late does to my brain. It gets busy with adrenaline fueled to-do lists, deadline adjustments and excuses. In such a state of mind, I started my routine crossing of the Grand Central crush. In all that bustle, it was sort of surprising I heard them at all. These chirping, pixie-like tiny voices. But when I did, and when I saw the pint-sized bodies they belonged to, I grinned like a silly fool. Smiled for the first time all morning.
Twins, no more than two years old, there was a wee girl on either side of a mother patiently maneuvering through the crowd.
“One more escalator,” said the mom. “We have to go up one more escalator.”
“One moe es-ca-laaaay-toe,” sang Tiny Voice number one. She wore tiny sneakers with red flashing lights (ingenious toddler loss prevention tactic). And had she not been so easily identifiable, I may have snatched her up right there and hurried off with her. Relax, her mom has another one.
Personally, I think Tiny Voices are a lot more soothing than those silly desk waterfalls, and it’d have done wonders for my attitude to plop her on my desk. I’d have gotten far less actual work accomplished, what with the “Now say, ‘rhinoceros” going on.
Wiiiii-nah-soe-us!
But really, so what? I’m not billable on Fridays anyway.
Background:
Sometimes the Night
Still Night & And in the Light of Day
:-) Great vignette. I'm smiling just reading it.
Posted by: Bond Girl at November 19, 2004 11:18 AMYou're welcome to borrow my tiny voice! He's two and terribly cute (no really). And he has cute giggles.
Posted by: christie at November 19, 2004 12:34 PMsure, they're adorable when they're in the Fudd stage.
Posted by: Theresa at November 19, 2004 01:31 PMOne of the cool things they usually don't tell you about becoming a parent is that when your own baby laughs, really laughs, for the first time, it sounds like music.
And so far, six years down the road, it still does.
Posted by: Lex at November 19, 2004 01:34 PMHow does that quote from JM Barrie go?
When the first baby laughed, for the very first time, the laugh broke into a million pieces and they all went skippping about. And that, was the beginning of fairies.
Posted by: Fish at November 19, 2004 01:40 PMI saw "I Heart Huckabees" yesterday. I wish more of the country did, it was so awesome. But the reason I mention it is because of the fight they have about "the cracks" and "the connection": I think at night, with no one around, we are more aware of "the cracks" between us, feeling that nothing is connected. When day comes, it's much easier to see something or someone that instantly makes you feel part of a much larger universe, if only metaphysically (which is comfort enough).
Posted by: Michael R at November 19, 2004 04:17 PMJust hearing that story second-hand completely made my day, so thanks from a first time poster.
Posted by: La Nina at November 19, 2004 04:24 PMHave you been to Dooce's website lately? Talk about your ovaries being beaten with the cute kid hammer.
Posted by: Stacy at November 19, 2004 08:05 PMBeing 26 and neurotic is a tasty combination - I should know this because I'm one of them! Love your blog, and felt compelled to comment on this one because I also had a grumpy/frumpy Friday that eventually ended "in heaven" - albeit alone, late for whatever it is I should have been at an hour ago, but happy for something so little.
Cheers,
M.
That story is so heart warming and its made me smile so much...my godson is the best and my favourite thing is when he opened his birthday present and giggled as he made it go up and down the hall by remote control...and then put the ribbon on his head and made us take photos...
Posted by: Kelly Fisher at November 20, 2004 01:55 PMI am a minor league commentator on my own life compared to the finesse and insight you use to frame your own experience. I just want to give you one more kudos on your website. I am male, 28 and neurotic myself. And though I'm not a fish chasing a bicycle (perhaps a bicycle chasing a fish instead?) I too am afraid of the dark, gush over baby laughter, and find solace in knowing some experiences know no bounds in terms of being able to "relate."
Posted by: Brian at November 20, 2004 03:12 PMTo the loathing of some of your critics I am sure I just wanted you to know that you inspired yet another blog, one that attempts to immulate a style that is more personal than political or pop culture topical. One day I hope to be as good at this blog thing as the oh so dreamy Miss Fish.
Posted by: joe at November 20, 2004 03:21 PMI used to babysit an adorable two-year-old with a mess of curly blonde hair and huge blue eyes. When we were bored I would start asking her what sounds different animals make. It was endless entertainment for both of us. I would also ask her how old she was, because she always insisted she was three. I'd try to catch her off-guard, but she always answered "three" without the slightest hesitation.
Posted by: lux at November 20, 2004 05:44 PMI completely understand the "making the career of insomnia" thing... there have been many nights when I'm wide awake at 2am or so Pacific Time (Pacific Time! Who the hell do I call at 2am PT? Not even my friends on the East Coast are up then) and I feel so very alone in the world. Unfortunately, last Thursday's "get the fuck out of my way mood" couldn't be defused en route to work because I was in the car listening to angry music the whole way and then had to deal with a jackass at work -- I had to wait until one of my co-workers showed up with her chihuahua. And it wasn't even the chihuahua that defused me -- it was the way one of my other co-workers reacted to it, acting all maternal and talking to it in a baby voice, that finally made me crack a smile.
Posted by: Keith at November 21, 2004 03:11 AM