At night, dressing Elliot in his pajamas at the hotel room, he says to me:
“Daddy, I had fun today.” He even got the tense correct after stuttering it the first time.
My heart just melted. And we hugged.


At night, dressing Elliot in his pajamas at the hotel room, he says to me:
“Daddy, I had fun today.” He even got the tense correct after stuttering it the first time.
My heart just melted. And we hugged.





Elliot loved it! A half-hour lesson with Jordan Haywood at the Colorado Music Institute. The first half went well – they went over black and white keys, pressing hard and soft, using different fingers. The second half did not go as well because Jordan tried to teach Elliot fingering based on numbers; e.g. thumb is finger one, index finger is finger two, etc. He did not really get it.
But I want to continue every week so he is in the habit of weekly music lessons. Jordan said she would adopt her teaching as needed.
Elliot just doesn’t use you. He can balance himself most of the time, or I hold him.

Grendel brought home a dead mouse. This is the second one we buried together; the first was over the Summer with Chloe, Brit, Quinn, Jenny, and Michael.
Elliot had lots of questions, each of which were asked many different times throughout the day. Why did the mouse die? Why did Grendel kill the mouse? Why are we burying him? What will happen to him in the ground? I answered each honestly and fully.


And the culprit watched as we bury her prey…

The face is made from Chia seeds.


“Pretty soon my body’s going to be THIS big!” (Holding his hands out)
Elliot also said, “My hand is not old enough” when holding our hands against each other. He means big enough, of course! But I love the thought process.

After strapping Elliot in his car seat this morning, I rushed into the house to get an envelope— running as fast as I could so Elliot did not spend an extra moment alone in the car in the garage. I left his car door open as well as mine.
When I came back to him, Elliot had a discovery about that open door he wanted to share.
“Look at the flection! Daddy, look!”
I threw my envelope into the passenger seat, messed with a coffee cup, then leaned over Elliot in his car seat to fasten the final buckle.
“Daddy! Flection! Flection! Look!”
I had no idea what he was talking about. But more importantly at the time, I did not want to entertain his fascination. I begrudgingly spun around, scanning the garage, trying to discern what might constitute a “flection.” But I was humoring him because we were late, and I was full of the Morning Rush, the rush that I don’t always have the mindfulness to stop in its tracks.
I turned back to him, repeating it:
“Flection? That’s so cool,” I said, lying like a rug.
It was late to bring him to preschool, and I’d also promised we would go to the Eyeball Shop (IHOP) for breakfast, so that meant I’d be very late to work. I was frustrated. I was fussing with his seat again, rushing too much after drinking coffee I didn’t need. I was not appreciating Elliot’s experience. He was clearly fascinated with something and wanted to share it with me.
I don’t like when I get that way, but I really only recognize it after the fact, after it is too late to appreciate the moment. Like now.
I turned around to get into the drivers seat, thinking that was the end of Flection, when I noticed him pointing at the car window just to his left.
I tried to swallow my guilt and hold back a tear for a moment that I know will never repeat. But I still could not appreciate the moment.
To be fascinated with one’s reflection again.
Some photos of Halloween 2021 with Elliot and Max. Elliot wore the same costume from last year. Max wore the same costume from a previous Halloween, I forget exactly which one. This might be our last Halloween at Highlands Ranch! The photos include one of me and Elliot at the Georgetown Loop Railroad (Oct 30), and several of us at the “Haunted Hay Ride” at Stockton’s Plum Creek Stables. That was a great trip, especially when some of the riders said to Elliot, “We’ll take the boy instead of the gold!”










Ever since Elliot was able just barely walk, he has loved throwing things (especially stones) into water. It started with the ponds at our house in Cordillera, Edwards. We’ve been visiting the DTC fountain, not far from his preschool, for years now. But it’s been a while since our last trip.







Elliot stayed with me the last few days. His first Rocky Mountain Pinball Showdown Festival.
So many times he would call “Daddy?” while he was eating or playing, and while I was busy doing the dishes, laundry, picking up, or doing something else for which I feel have limited time when I’m with Elliot.
“Daddy?”
I would anticipate needing to attend to him or fulfill his needs in some way, while just trying to find 2 minutes to clean the dishes or some similar chore.
Then he would say, “I love you” out of the blue. My heart would sink. For not living in the moment. For anticipating something that not only did not happen, but the complete opposite happening. Once or twice he followed this up with “Hug, hug“, reaching out his arms to me.
I want to learn to be more open-minded; not to let the past color me or set expectations. The meditation is helping.
“This song is too scary for me,” says Elliot about “Thriller”. And not the video! He’s not watching the video. He’s listening to the song with the werewolves howling in the beginning and Vincent Price’s monologue at the end.
Elliot has asked several times, “Why fur stick to your face?

Last night, Elliot woke up and told me he needed to go peepee. He has not needed diapers in a couple months, but even then he only needed them sporadically. But last night was a clear signal I can finally throw these away!
End of an era. Start of a new one!







Oct 1 was the 10th yahrzeit for my father. Elliot was with me, and we lit the candle. I told him Grandpa Marty was his grandfather and he died, but that he would have loved Elliot very, very much. Elliot asked, “Why?” (Why Grandpa Marty died). I told him because Grandpa Marty ate bad food, did not exercise, and was overweight. Of course, that’s why Grandpa Marty died early, at least partially, but I could not explain that. I could not explain his challenging life living together with Michael, too.
But I showed Elliot some photos, including these:


Now every few days or so, when we talk about Grandpa Marty, Elliot mentions Noodles the Cat, too. It’s very cute and sweet.
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