Missing person

I would love to be able to say that I don't take London for granted. But I do. When you have the luxury of seeing someone you love every day, it is too easy to forget that it is a luxury and start treating it as business as usual. I don't know if it's inevitable, but it's at least hard to avoid.

I am not taking him for granted right now. Right now I am on the train from New Haven to New York. The trip has been a smashing success. I have measured, sketched, and photographed literally hundreds of specimens. I have made new friends and seen some of the world's great sights. And I am very fortunate to get to be a paleontologist.

The best thing about paleontology, though, is that it is sufficiently diverting that while I am doing it I am able to forget for a while that I am away from London. Now the work is all done. I got through everything on my list and many, many other things besides. In my laptop and my notebook I have a pirates' hoard of shiny golden data, enough to keep me busy for a very long time. And I still have a day and a half before I get to see my little man.

I ache for him. When I think about him, which is about every five minutes, it feels like somebody punched me right in the chest. It hurts to breathe. Last night I met London and Vicki at the airport, and I picked him up and he gave me a kiss and then rested his head on my shoulder. It felt like.... Well, it didn't feel like anything else. That's my entire point. There's no simile or metaphor that can tell you what it's like to hold your child again after you've been away. There is literally nothing like it in the world. Everything else might as well be made out of cardboard.

Unfortunately, it was also a dream. I woke up alone in my hotel room in New Haven, and now as I sit here on the train writing this, I am tapping my feet and drumming my fingers and running laps around my head, anything to burn the time and kill the pain and bring London back into my arms, and me into his.

(And then I remember that Mom and Dad have been surviving this for 31 years, for up to six months at a time, and I have the same thing to look forward to. Whoever first said, "Life is too short," must have been a parent.)

So in lieu of holding my boy, I'm posting a boatload of pictures, many from our San Jose trip. Enjoy.


London is obsessed with brushing his teeth. He's crazy about hygiene!



Right after we checked into our hotel in San Jose, London disappeared. The door was locked, so I knew he couldn't have gotten far. I found him hiding between the bed and the wall, using a crayon to color on whatever that thing is.

It was much less cute when we found that he colored on the wall, the mirror, and toilet lid. But that was later, and you never know that something is wrong until you've tried it, do you?




London loves showing his belly. At least three times when we've been in restaurants, he's gone up to little girls that he liked and showed them his belly. It is even cuter than it sounds.


Gotta make sure it's there now and then.


Now that he goes to sleep on his own, I don't get to do this very much. I miss it.


I like this picture because you can see what tired him out: fire trucks, rockets, and books. And yeah, you can wear yourself out reading if you're a toddler, or if you're reading to a toddler.


We finally got some fish for the aquarium. London is mesmerized.