State of the Waits
May 14th, 2009An eerie resemblance:
(Left) One of our favorite photos of Waits.
(Right) Tom Waits album cover art.
One evening last week, after Scott got home from work, Waits started turning somersaults on the bed. We’ve never taught him how to somersault. He just stood up and hurled himself head-over-heels onto the bed. “Hurled” in the true sense of the word — pitched his body into the air, a fast arc of flying limbs. He didn’t need any coaxing or encouragement; he didn’t start off slow and easy, crouched low to the ground. No, he just took off jumping headfirst at the bed — fearless, reckless, with great abandon. Repeatedly.
Later, Scott and I watched Quantum of Solace and there went Daniel Craig as James Bond hurling himself through the air, crashing his boat headlong into another boat to make the bad guys stop, and I thought, there goes Waits. Indomitable.
Waits is at my favorite age yet, and being pregnant I haven’t had the energy to document it, so I’m trying my best to just soak it up and take it in, so that I can remember. The way his mind works: fascinating and fresh and wonderful. His sense of humor, his belly laughs. His endless commentary on whatever wondrous thing lies before us, whether it be a snail on the front steps, or how the water pipes travel in and out of the wall. His infectious enthusiasm. His unpredictability. I feel like every day with him is a sweet golden gift, teaching me to be more observant, patient, open; to go more slowly. He tries my patience a hundred times a day, but he also opens my eyes to the deep wonder of the world. I feel so lucky to be his mom.













