A stream of fungible rambles to wake the brain and let the words flow in a rather more coherent and marketable fashion; begin:
"He's not selling any alibis."
4:48 and he's in the room asking for mama his bottle his white noise off and to just be with us generally. But I have my contacts in, they are the sleep in kind [the kind that it doesn't matter that I leave them in overnight and they last a month but I'm wearing a new pair after a week in the glasses and six months in the last pair (an optometrist's nightmare, I)], and unlike yesterday I can see the clock and recognize that neither he nor I nor my lady wife nor any reasonably sane person that isn't working graveyard or partying like it's 1066 should be waking or woken at this hour (a full 30 minutes earlier than the day before and 50 minutes earlier than the day before that - no way I was jumping down that defeatist rabbit hole).
He screamed, fussed, bitched, moaned, and smacked the door that I was holding closed to keep him in his room, urge him back to the comfort of his bed, his stuffed souls (bear, frog, lamb, paisley). 16 minutes. I have the stronger will. For now. I returned to spoon the lady wife.
"God said to Abraham, 'Kill me a son.'"
Testing, a ritual of self-flagellation, proof positive that we are human, that we are epic fail. Being towards. Some would argue, poorly as the lay audience of self involved parents giving over their lives to vicariously ruin the lives of their spawn have given me the general impressing that they lack a philosophical vocabulary let alone a wit to effectively construct and communicate such an argument (an apology for reproduction and self-effacement), that once one becomes a parent one ceases to be an individual. While it can be easily stated (less easily followed look at all those shitty parents out the) that when one has a child a significant portion of one's life is indeed constructed as a 'Being with' or a 'Being for' the child (as they are incapable of effecting such a Being for themselves for a period of time unique to the individual and I'm sure there are plenty of studies on this that you could look up and decide which is right for you and yours) that is not, nor should it be, the whole of one's ontological character. The self is always first s constructed self. Should you choose to construct that self as a subject of another (an Other), it is clearly a choice amongst the plethora, but the self-effacement is a choice and not a necessity nor really should it be a goal. Personally, I find it to be a rather depressing form of escapism. I have far preferable means of effecting escapism, I think I'll keep to those.
6:13 and he's back and looking for hot milk and hopefully a cuddle that let's daddy go back to sleep on the couch and mama shower and get ready to wrangle those cats into orderly rows, desks, and everybody do your lessons (you can't have your pudding unless you eat your meat!). Half a banana, two cereal bars, a tickle fight, a game of chase (Attention: Today all trains will be re-routed over the windowsill, expect delays) later his sitter drops by to take him out. Kung Fu Panda has played through three times (I think, it's getting harder and harder to tell). And now it is my day to write. I download a solitaire app.
"Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?"