Election Day

 You have jet lag. It was fall back the day after Halloween, and also I'm pretty sure you are teething, and so we've had a couple of bumpy nights. Last night you conked out by 6:30 and this morning you were up and bushy-tailed at 5. You were even done with your first nap in time for us to get to Montessori at 8:45, so you are having a full day at school today. Your first. I hope you are having fun.

It's a brisk and windy day today, as everyone goes to the polls and with any luck American democracy survives. I have moments of excitement but most of today has been a wash. I went to the weird 1920s office space that I share with your godlessparents and I've been reading for work. Brian and Ginger stopped by and Brian opened a bottle of rum at 11:30. If I didn't have to pick you up in the car soon I would have been tempted. There's cannabis chocolate in the fridge too. Nursing, though. I do actually try to be a responsible parent for you. Believe it or not. 

You have gotten in to the Manhattan Montessori that I have been angling to get you into since before you were born, so success on that front. I have already gotten sort of misty in anticipation of how you will feel leaving your current Montessori for life in the city. But that's a year away. No point worrying about it now. For now, let's assume New York City won't be in flames tonight and tomorrow. How about that?

I am glad you are unaware of all these frightening things. You don't seem scared of people in masks, though you usually try to pull mine off. You don't know that we have a frightening and divisive leader. You don't know about racial strife, or economic collapse, or disease. You are a baby, and you are smiley and merry, and experience the world as full of friendly people who love you and want to pick you up. I am grateful for this. I live in fear of your ever discovering it is anything but the truth.

So, today, you are playing now with your friends at Montessori in Massachusetts, and I am trying to work and not doom-scroll, and tonight you and I will go to bed early again, and we will hold each other, and I will marvel that you exist, and you will snuffle and complain until you find my boob in your sleep. I have gotten very involved lately looking at footage of the new giant panda cub at the National Zoo. He's a miracle too. They have a panda cam in the den, and as I watch this giant panda mother and her little round panda cub snuggle and put paws in each others' faces and sit up to nurse and then roll over again I feel like it is a livestream of you and me when we hide together in bed at night, willing the world to be as safe and warm and loving as our secret family den can be.