It’s something I’m not sure I will ever fully understand. And maybe that’s okay. In general, watching dear baby Carter figure out the world around him brings to light how little I understand about little people. Every day, there is something new to see, touch, feel or try to gnaw on. All the while, I can almost see inside his head where connections are happening. Things are starting to make sense to him, albeit still mighty confusing to me.
Today was an exception to the rule. Today, I watched as Carter attempted to make a tunnel out of his toy bin. I’m not exactly sure where he thought he was headed, but he certainly was not in it for the toys inside. He was on a mission to destination imagination and no one was going to stop him. Well, except mom, who rescued him when he got upset that his tunnel ended about two feet in. And about 30 seconds after that, he resumed his pursuit of the cable box.
Meanwhile, his little experiment got me to thinking about where I would go if I had an imaginary tunnel to anywhere. Where would it go? What would it look like there? Who would be waiting on the other side? At first I thought I would want it to be an endlessness of dog park. Everywhere I looked there would be dogs running free with no end in sight. But I got kind of lonely there surprisingly fast.
So I revised my dreamscape to include a cabin on a lake for my people neighboring the park. They can fish and roast marshmallows while I run all day and return to them each night. But the cabin was too small to fit everyone I love past and present.
Given that, I suddenly realized where my dream tunnel would go. It wouldn’t be to an endless dog park or a cabin on the lake. It would shoot straight up to this place called heaven (where I do believe all dogs go) where I can have the best of both worlds. Past, present, and future, I would be surrounded with loved ones regardless of what side of the tunnel I was on.
But I suppose even that would get tiring in some ways, just as I hear people talking about needing a vacation from their vacation. Ultimately, I would need to know the tunnel would take me right back home. That it would take me right back to my front row seat to all things little person as baby Carter discovers the world, whether or not I ever fully understand how he is doing it. Because as nice as a tunnel to anywhere would be, all of this served as a reminder that there really is no place I would rather be.