What is going to happen?

Evan in SF, January 2010.



Famous words from our domestic yogi, Evan.
It is now April of 2010 and Evan will be 3 in July.
His language use has advanced impressively, even as he has remained in the 30 pound weight region for most of the last year. His head keeps growing. That heavy appendage sometimes leads and other times follows the rest of the body, and sometimes it goes clunk on the floor or ground. He gets entranced by what he is studying and then walking at the same time inevitably loses balance and down he goes. I hope he doesn't bang his head as much as I did when I was little. Today at the LA Arboretum, he was sitting on a bench in front of the waterfall there, a destination for the park walker, and off he rolls and bonk goes the head on the sidewalk. A nice older man approached him and jokingly chided him for putting a crack in the walkway. Evan got over it quickly, but it's a little scary. I guess he has to take his licks and learn to keep his hands more at the ready.

For several months he has occasionally said out of the blue: "What's going to happen?" Maybe he's just asking "What are we going to do today?" but the feel of the question opens up a larger picture of possible events unfolding. I don't know what's going to happen, my boy. Almost anything could happen. And yet, each day we have breakfast and play around the house, then peel away to a park or the library, return for lunch and a nap, then up again for more outdoor time before it darkens and he must again be inside, the eating of dinner, playtime with music, the brushing of teeth, some stories, and off to slumberland. Usually, that's what's going to happen.