Bodhi's First Blog Post

I have had this blog for several months now, and in true perfectionist Brittany fashion I have not written a single post because I've been waiting for the perfect mood to strike and the perfect content to magically materialize in my mind. Heaven forbid that I mar these pages with fluff or anything short of extraordinary.

That's me. I'm a total perfectionist. Especially when it comes to things I create - like my writing, any attempts at art, my cooking, my cleaning, my garden, my family, my work. That doesn't mean my life is actually perfect. The universe has it's way of presenting challenges to remind me that I can't control everything. Life isn't perfect, but it is beautiful.

Inspiration did strike me this morning as I was lying in bed at 7am trying to catch a few more zzz's on a Saturday morning. I thought, my joy is my family - the family I came from and the new family I have created. Most notably, I have this beautiful, 7-month-old boy who is so lovely and makes me smile every day. He is growing up so fast and changing so quickly, and yet I have not captured all the cute and funny things he does in writing. Not even in my journal and I used to be so good at regularly journaling. Time to change that. Methinks it will be hard to recall from memory all the things my first born was doing when he was 2 months old, 4 months old, 6 months old, etc. when he is 25, so better to start now. I thought it'd be fun to share some of my little guy's insights and experiences, from his perspective. And so I give you...Bodhi's first blog post.

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My name is Bodhi. I am a Mr. Man. Mommy is worried that when I grow up, I'm going to speak a strange hybrid language because that's how she talks to me. She pluralizes everything. "Would you like some milks?" "Ready for a bathies?" "Shall we change the diapie doos?" "Is it full of poops?" Fortunately, my baby genius language encoding brain can decipher between real words and made up ones. Heaven knows, Mom uses a lot of made up words. Between her and Nana, most of the songs they sing me are comprised of completely made up words. Great-nana, Rose, spoke many funny, made up words to Nana when she was a little girl. A hybrid of Maori and imagination. Nana built on that when she was a little girl and shared the "language" with her girls, including my mama. I think it's nice. My favorite songs are the ones with all the silly, made-up words.  Mom sings this song to me every night to lull me to sleep:

Mee mee, the mustin mee

Mee mee mee and the bru ha ha

Daka daka daka daka da

The beekin beekin da de da

Which brings me to my next point. I am a beekin boy. That's what mama and Nana and the aunties call me. Beekin is a good word to describe me. Let me try to explain what it means. First, just say it..."beekin". What do you think it means just from the sound of the word? You know those words in various languages that are difficult to translate because they capture a concept, a feeling that is unique to that language and culture? Well, beekin is a bit like that. My best effort at translating this magical word is to say that it means cute and silly and naughty. That's me. Beekin. And full of dimples.