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2003-09-30

Things got really bad there for a while. For the first time in my life, I called a shrink at home. Actually, two shrinks--first, my old one to talk about maybe ditching my current one, then my current one. Both of them were so good--so kind and responsive and glad that I had called. This was around 11 on a Sunday morning. I loved that both were home. I somehow knew they would be, imagined them in their living rooms with their respective spouses, drinking coffee and reading the Times.

That was, let's see, nine days ago. I've been feeling worlds better since then. And have decided to stick with the current shrink for the time being. And have decided not to explore a pharmaceutical solution, something I actively considered for the first time ever on the day I made those two phone calls.

I think what's happening is that old stuff is surfacing, old pain. Something about my life right now is bringing it all up. If one believes, as I do, that our earliest experiences greatly determine who we are--a fundamentally psychoanalytic perspective--it stands to reason that having a child, becoming a parent, will disinter all kinds of buried stuff. And while dealing with this stuff is wreaking great havoc on me and on my family at the moment, it's necessary and will ultimately be liberating, very much for the good. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

*

Sunday the three of us went to the fancy schmancy mall. We're going to a wedding next month and Clay needed something to wear. We got him some gray wool slacks, a white dress shirt, and a yellow tie. Then we went to the shoe store. He's been wearing sandals all summer, a couple different pairs I picked up second-hand. It's been increasingly difficult to fit his feet into them. Well, at the shoe store they measured him: he needed a size 7. His old shoes were size 5-1/2. My candidacy for Bad Mom of the Year just got a little stronger.

We got him some brown leather oxfords, which we won't let hime wear until the wedding, and some navy suede sneakers. Kind of like Vans. They are insanely cute, his first sneakers. We let him wear them out of the store and once we got home, he ran around like we'd never seen him. Last night he insisted on sleeping in them. He loves his shoes.

*

Clay's hair has gotten really long. The other day he had a serious case of bedhead and looked so great. "He looks like an English rocker," B said. Imagine a dirty blonde version of the fellow on the left:

Echo

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