Yes, another video from Dad. If you're wondering about Bry's bizarre facial expressions during the second segment of the video, it's because he was watching himself in the viewfinder and apparently found his movements entertaining. Enjoy!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Wintertime with Bry
Yes, an odd title for July. This is Steve (the Dad). I've finally finished sifting through all the footage we took this winter and put together this video. Please forgive my lack of timeliness. Enjoy!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Corpus Scientia*
Editor's Note: I wrote this last November, and seem to have forgotten to publish it. Actually, it seems that I forgot to finish it, but figured what the hey, I'd publish it now anyways. Unfinished. Because that's how I roll.
Sometimes it's interesting to observe Bryson through others' eyes. This past weekend, we all went to Bryson's Aunt Sheila and Uncle Mike's wedding, where we got to visit with a lot of Steve's family whom we don't see often. Bryson also spent a significant amount of time with his Nana and Gong-Gong, who worked overtime to: (1) cart Bry to and from the wedding; (2) keep him quiet and seated at the church; (3) oversee his dinner at the reception; and (4) take on the unenviable job of wrestling overstimulated and overtired Bry into his pajamas and bed later that night, while Steve and I partied as if we were neither sleep-deprived, nor too old to remember how to party. (Note: Said partying ended at about 9:30 pm. We are old.)
The upshot of that rambly paragraph is that we interacted with a lot of people who gave us the 30-second rundown of their thoughts vis a vis our son. I think I can safely summarize the vast majority of outside opinions as follows: Bryson is cute. Now, as his parents, we are of course quick to agree with this assessment, if only because we figure it must reflect positively on us, what with the genetics involved in generating his good looks and all. To be fair, people did offer other descriptors for Bryson beyond "cute," including well behaved, cheerful, charming, and bigger. To which I responded (internally), ha ha ha ha, for the most part, yes, and duh, respectively.
Perhaps more interesting (and more to the point of this whole post) were the observations shared by both sets of Bryson's grandparents, namely that Bry seems to be a pretty knowlegeable guy, who is more than willing to share his wisdom with others. Repeatedly, if need be, and with very proper diction.
This is another point on which Steve and I concur, as proud parents are bound to. Reflecting on this weekend got me thinking about the bigger picture, though. Sit down, because I'm about to get all philosophical (which is never a good idea when I'm tired, and probably never a good idea no matter what, but here goes anyways). I started to think about how Bryson came into this world with essentially no knowledge.** From day one he's been learning nonstop. And maybe there was a time, early on, when Steve and I were aware of the entirety of Bry's body of knowledge. Mostly because we had taught a lot of it to him, or we had at least provided language for experiences that he grasped only through his senses. To be fair, this belief is probably more parental grandiosity than anything else. Because of course we couldn't ever have been aware of everything that Bry knew. From the moment he entered the world, he's been creating his own interpretations of what he senses. But at least there was a time when it seemed like what he knew was circumscribed. He knew our faces, the sounds of our voices, what it felt like to be held, and the smell of milk. He was instantly drawn to the black and white images we put next to his changing table, and learned to tune in to moving objects. I imagine his universe was a pretty small place.
Since those early days, the scope of his understanding seems to have expanded exponentially. What is most striking to me is that he can communicate a lot of what he knows, but the extent of what he can share must be miniscule in comparison to what he knows that is beyond words, at least for now.
What a funny, strange, amazing, indescribable thing, this watching a person become his own person.
*Body of Knowledge. Everything sounds cooler in Latin, yes?
**A recent workshop I went to suggested that an infant's first memory is based on his or her parents' collective unconscious. That was a little out there, even for me.
Sometimes it's interesting to observe Bryson through others' eyes. This past weekend, we all went to Bryson's Aunt Sheila and Uncle Mike's wedding, where we got to visit with a lot of Steve's family whom we don't see often. Bryson also spent a significant amount of time with his Nana and Gong-Gong, who worked overtime to: (1) cart Bry to and from the wedding; (2) keep him quiet and seated at the church; (3) oversee his dinner at the reception; and (4) take on the unenviable job of wrestling overstimulated and overtired Bry into his pajamas and bed later that night, while Steve and I partied as if we were neither sleep-deprived, nor too old to remember how to party. (Note: Said partying ended at about 9:30 pm. We are old.)
The upshot of that rambly paragraph is that we interacted with a lot of people who gave us the 30-second rundown of their thoughts vis a vis our son. I think I can safely summarize the vast majority of outside opinions as follows: Bryson is cute. Now, as his parents, we are of course quick to agree with this assessment, if only because we figure it must reflect positively on us, what with the genetics involved in generating his good looks and all. To be fair, people did offer other descriptors for Bryson beyond "cute," including well behaved, cheerful, charming, and bigger. To which I responded (internally), ha ha ha ha, for the most part, yes, and duh, respectively.
Perhaps more interesting (and more to the point of this whole post) were the observations shared by both sets of Bryson's grandparents, namely that Bry seems to be a pretty knowlegeable guy, who is more than willing to share his wisdom with others. Repeatedly, if need be, and with very proper diction.
This is another point on which Steve and I concur, as proud parents are bound to. Reflecting on this weekend got me thinking about the bigger picture, though. Sit down, because I'm about to get all philosophical (which is never a good idea when I'm tired, and probably never a good idea no matter what, but here goes anyways). I started to think about how Bryson came into this world with essentially no knowledge.** From day one he's been learning nonstop. And maybe there was a time, early on, when Steve and I were aware of the entirety of Bry's body of knowledge. Mostly because we had taught a lot of it to him, or we had at least provided language for experiences that he grasped only through his senses. To be fair, this belief is probably more parental grandiosity than anything else. Because of course we couldn't ever have been aware of everything that Bry knew. From the moment he entered the world, he's been creating his own interpretations of what he senses. But at least there was a time when it seemed like what he knew was circumscribed. He knew our faces, the sounds of our voices, what it felt like to be held, and the smell of milk. He was instantly drawn to the black and white images we put next to his changing table, and learned to tune in to moving objects. I imagine his universe was a pretty small place.
Since those early days, the scope of his understanding seems to have expanded exponentially. What is most striking to me is that he can communicate a lot of what he knows, but the extent of what he can share must be miniscule in comparison to what he knows that is beyond words, at least for now.
What a funny, strange, amazing, indescribable thing, this watching a person become his own person.
*Body of Knowledge. Everything sounds cooler in Latin, yes?
**A recent workshop I went to suggested that an infant's first memory is based on his or her parents' collective unconscious. That was a little out there, even for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
