This little girl. She's 4 1/2 months old. I'm prone to say I didn't realize how alert she wasn't, because of how alert she IS -- more and more -- every day.
It's gradual though, and that's one of my favorite things about this whole baby business. Sure -- everybody says it goes so fast and I know that's true. Of course that's true. And that's why everything, even the good things -- especially the good things -- I call heartbreaking. But I'm so glad that Microsoft or Amazon or CBS or Google haven't figured out a way to speed up the maturing of a human child. Because that means the ball is in my court. To pay attention, that's my job, I guess. It's a miracle by any measure; but many days -- as many as I can muster -- it's indescribably delirious. And I look for that balance, as a chronicler. The balance between chronicling and being present. Again -- I'm grateful for photography because that takes care of a lot of my part of the equation.
It leaves me free to do things like give intimate guitar recitals for Libby Lee. It's gratifying how much she seems to enjoy this. Unless, when she grabs the strings, she's really saying please stop.But I don't think so. The first time I played guitar in front of my daughter, just a few feet away, she kept nearly losing her balance in her sitty-seat, flailing her arms, and almost trying to dive towards the guitar, eye wide-wide open. My playing has never previously had this effect. It's also worth mentioning that this has utterly invigorated my previously-flagging guitar practice (along with the replacing of my full-size pro-fessional guitar with an Amigo kid's guitar. It's magic for both of us, it seems.)
Let's be clear that it's extra-gratifying. When I play guitar for Libby Lee, I like to think that one day she'll explain, on national television, that her incredible musical talent was informed at an early age by a dad who played guitar for her, albeit in a cute and amateurish fashion.
Finally, this new guitar gig I have gives me the opportunity to learn all -- rather than just some -- of the lyrics to songs like "Beauty School Drop-out," or "Love is Strange" (or make up lyrics when in doubt).
