Nexus

I should be writing a review of St. Pamphilus’ Apology for Origen. And I will. In a minute. First, I need to share a bit or two of dialogue between Jonah and me.

He’s been pretty much obsessed with Spiderman since his cousins sent him a puffy muscle suit when he was two. And these days, the cartoons aren’t cutting it. He wants the “actually real Spiderman,” which means the live action movie. We found a copy at the library and talked about watching it together (so John or I could edit out the too violent violence and/or disturbing weirdness). And that’s All we talked about, from the moment it was in his hand until dinnertime. At which point we started the movie, and he became obsessed with the actual moment when Dr. Octopus becomes Dr. Octopus. Watching a movie with Jonah requires an entirely different approach to movie watching. There’s no blank staring at the screen or getting transported into a couch potato funk. It’s a highly interactive experience.

So anyway, as we walked home from the library, I told Jonah that Spiderman kind of makes me crazy. All that flying around and sailing from building to building gives me vertigo. Couple that with the movie’s generally high volume, and it’s enough to make me want to go into a dark quiet room by myself for a couple of hours or on a long walk. But I loved J’s response:

“Is it artificial colors for you? Does it make you crazy?”

The connections he makes! He knows that artificial colors mess with his system, by which he intuited that crazy action movies do the same to me. John called him a nexus, and it’s a fair representation of how Jonah operates—the center through which everything connects. And it’s hard not to get sucked into his “the world revolves around me” reality. Balancing our lives in relationship to him will always take some doing. When I told him that I hadn’t even met John when I watched the first Spiderman movie, he couldn’t quite understand.

“You didn’t even KNOW¬†John Carl Estes?”

No, I explained. I haven’t known your daddy for most of my life. This is a relatively new thing we’ve got going on here. I met him at the bookstore in Kansas where I worked. His response:

“So did you be friends and decide to make a kid?”

Yep. Something like that.