The Quest, an interlude

Following my son around in the yard today, I found myself, as usual, contemplating various aspects of the universe. Today I settled on something that came up during our recent meeting with my wife's midwife: time. Specifically it was the discussion of when is the time to try and conceive again.

She noted that a year is what is generally recommended; to allow time for healing and such. I myself have wondered when I'd be ready for our third child. It is without question that I want a third child, but how soon?

I kick these ideas around a bit, never really coming to any conclusions, still muddling through the yard, watching, and occasionally rescuing, Jules as he adventures about. I started moving some old boards that had once been a make-shift covering for our pool when we first moved in (I tore it up last year and hadn't cleaned up the wreckage since). As I did this I discovered a rather impressive ant nest; those tiny ants that get in everywhere (like our kitchen -- a problem that has been remedied). There was probably a foot long, half-inch deep strip of what I will call ant food (that white stuff they carry) and a circle 2 feet in diameter that was crawling and pulsating with little soldiers at work.

Now the appropriate home owner response would be to kill the fuckers, but honestly I haven't had the stomach for as repercussion-less a task as killing ants since that fateful day. Once a proud proponent of "the food chain", now it just feels wrong. (not going Vegan though)
So I opted to let nature work, and I took a moment to admire all the movement, then followed my son to some other corner of the yard.
A few moments later I walked back by the ant nest and I was caught a little off-guard. Now if I had been actually thinking about the condition of these ants, this probably wouldn't have surprised me, but it did. That huge supply of food was already gone; transported to some other secure location.

I imagined a scene from a disaster movie: a normal day amongst the ants, all of them casually going about their daily business of... doing ant stuff in their damp, dark world. ~~KARRAACKK!!~~ Light starts to break through from above; the ants stop and look up. Giant fingers lift the dark sky away and their world is flooded with light. Run! The ants are confused and devastated at the loss of their home. Oh the humanity, the humanity!!
(you may now take the time to admire my sound effect)

But no, instead, because I'd forgotten everything we are taught about the character of ants, these guys were doing what they had to do. They were grabbing the food and heading for someplace safer. They were carrying on. And what choice did they have? Just plop their little thorax down on the dirt and say "well shit...now what?" No sir, the only choice they have is to keep going; pick themselves up and let that asshole in the sandals and the spider-man t-shirt know that he wasn't going to keep them down.

Naturally, my attention was quickly diverted back to Jules whom had discovered an old bouncy ball and was chasing that around. Returning to my outdoor routine of watching my son play and run, stumble, fall, get up, run, laugh, stumble, fall, get up again, laugh again, and so forth and so on, I knew I had found my answers.


I could sit and cry forever. No, really, I could. But that isn't a choice I have. Oh, we've done plenty of it, and I'm sure there will be more, but we will carry on. We have to move towards that safer place. Luckily, our reason for carrying on also lights our path, like some perfectly adorable little prophet, running and stumbling, falling, getting up, running, laughing, stumbling, falling, getting up again, laughing and so forth and so on.