I’m sitting in my edit bay at MGM right now, somewhere in Beverly Hills. There was a time, about seven years ago, when I would’ve done ANYTHING to be sitting right where I’m at. I’d stay up late, working on horrible projects that people were paying me very little on just so I could practice editing in the hopes of slowly crawling up the corporate ladder. But now that I’m here, in my own office, working with under a big studio name on films that I love, the only place I find myself wanting to be, is at home with my family.
I leave the house everyday around 9 and I get back around 7, which leaves a total of about two hours that we get to spend together every day…about the same amount that I spend in my car driving hither and tither. It’s pretty lame but your mom has been really good about sending me photos and videos on our iPhones – a device that, by the time you’re old enough to read and appreciate these blogs yourselves, will be as outdated as Atari and the word “blog”.
You’re eleven months old with your birthdays just around the corner. It doesn’t make any sense to me. Everyone I’ve been talking to lately has been saying, “This year went by so fast – it’s already Christmas again”. It seems like that’s a general consensus – the year has somehow passed faster than usual and I keep thinking, “It’s not fair. Not this year. This year should have been a normal year. Time shouldn’t have went so fast”. The two of you are walking… sort of. As usual we think one of you is in the lead and then the other comes out of nowhere and totally dominates.
Quinn, you were beginning to take your first steps. You were casual and careful and Rory just watched from afar. When you’d reach Mom or I, we’d all clap, you included. And then one day Rory started walking. And then he started walking more. And now he just struts around the house like a drunken gigolo, falling down, standing up, falling down, screaming, standing up. In fact, his success seems to have destroyed your will to try. You do a lot of watching Rory walk but I know what’s happening. I know you’re studying his technique and right when we put our guard down, you’re going to come running into the room, totally unexpectedly.
That’s just how you both are. You are unexpected. You’ve been like that since the day we discovered there were two of you. “SURPRISE!”.
Rory, you have five teeth but it doesn’t slow you down. You’ll eat chicken, crackers, meatballs; you fear no food. Quinn, you’ve got four sharpies and you LOVE to eat. When we bring out the food, often times Roar will run off and amuse himself while you sit very nicely next to us on the floor and take bite after bite after bite. You’re a good eater… which, coming from a parent to a baby, is a huge compliment… in case you were wondering.
Tomorrow we’re all leaving on a jet plane to head to Billings, Montana for Christmas. Your mom and I are VERY excited to spend some time with Uncle Red, Hotrod, Aunt Katie (almost) and Grandma and Grandpa. We’ll be introducing you to snow for the first time, which I’m sure you’ll probably hate as much as I do, but who knows. SURPRISE!
I have a strong desire to take you sledding but I’m not sure if that’s a possibility or a good idea. Sometimes sledding can be a viscous sport. I was once hit by a boy on a sled and I got a bloody nose. I also once went sledding off a small cliff, onto a frozen lake. I also once ran my sled into a kid who got a bloody nose. What goes around comes around, I guess.
Your mom and I are very excited / nervous / anxious to get the plane ride out of the way. The last flight we took with you too, you were much younger and it was easier to force you to sit on our laps because you weren’t even crawling yet. I’m not sure how you’re going to handle being confined for three hours. The prayer I’m sending up to God sounds a little something like this, “Dear Heavenly Father, please let the weather be pleasant and the runway be clear. Let the baby crackers run like bottled milk, blessing us with a supple supply of snacks. Let no dookie diaper befall us and please, oh God, still the hearts and mouths of our children. In your name we pray, amen.”
But who knows.
You may surprise us.
johnny be bald 