Worlds Are Colliding…

So we're pretty much on the eve of Harry's second birthday. Two years ago, he changed our lives irrevocably (for the better of course) by beginning his own. Trying to think back to what it was like before his arrival while sitting at a keyboard is one thing. Having parts of it come crashing into your psyche at the hands of electronic media is another entirely.

Let's try to set the stage here…

Lately Harry's day has expanded from what may have appeared as observational, to full-on participatory. He 'gets into' conversations now… for example, the tone of his voice changes appropriately when asking a question, or to when he expresses his subtle distaste for something like Brussel Sprouts. When they sing the Blues Clues song on TV, he sings along (in his own lyrical version) while bopping away with his oversized teddy bear (which seems a milestone in and of itself).

So the last 2 years, shows have been dominated by (and check our Tivo if you don't believe me) Sesame Street, Blues Clues, Dora the Explorer, Go Diego Go, and the entire Baby Einstein DVD collection.

Last night, courtesy of ye olde NETFLIX queue, threw in a DVD of the Dave Matthews Band performing in Central Park from a few years back. I forgot how much I liked them. I forgot how much fun their shows used to be, before they got big. Before seeing them in concert meant wading past kids (okay-pre-pubescent teens) making out in the restroom, just to take a leak. Back when it mattered that they weren't serving beer at the show (thanks to the GMU Patriot Center, TCBY was the best you were gonna do). In college, especially around the time Kim and I began dating, I was a certified Dave-head.

We thought out loud to ourselves, remember when Dave concerts were good? That was a long time ago...

Later in the evening, Tivo had hung onto a past favorite from our pre-parent days… The West Wing. Used to be a weekly fix for us -- to see where in town they were filming, and if we knew anyone in the background. Last week's episode was the show's funeral for Leo McGarry, echoing the real-life passing of John Spencer. Granted, neither of us have watched the show with our old fervor in quite some time, so most of the plotlines were fuzzy at best, but this one had lots of familiar faces, and it was good to see everyone again… like old friends.

We thought out loud to ourselves, remember when West Wing was good? That was a long time ago...

This morning, we took a subtle turn from the norm. Where one episode of Blues normally segues neatly into Dora the Explorer, today we switched back over to the DMB DVD of central park. Funny enough, one of my favorite songs came on -- Granny -- so I go to be the one singing and bopping along to the TV.

Harry walks up to the TV… points at Dave and says… "Daddie?"

Um… not quite bud, but thanks for the confidence vote on the singing ability.

That exchange has been sitting with me all day… was wondering when the real father-son sharing was going to begin.

Sounds like it just did.