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Thursday, June 30, 2005

 

3 Simple Rules...

... to live by!

  1. Never give a woman a ring, unless you are going to marry her.
  2. Never get a woman's name, initials, portrait, etc. tattooed on your body.
  3. Never eat bread at a buffet.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

 

See Dane Crawl

Here is a little video of Dane crawling on Google Video (you have to download their player... sorry). Check it out!

 

$5

I wanted to tell you all about last Friday, but I’ve been so busy reading everyone else’s stuff, I never get to mine. Plus, Renee had a girls night on Saturday-Sunday and the boys (Daddy and Dane) had to hang out, playing games such as, Clap, Touchdown, Chase Me Daddy Before I Get To The Stairs (which isn’t as much fun with a gate) and the ever popular Catch Me Before I Fall Off The Couch Again (just kiddin’ Hon).

Friday nights I play softball with some friends. Every week is a double-header. Two hours of masculine competition in a game of “slow pitch.” And when I say competitive, it really is. A guy from another team was trying to pick a fight with our first baseman because of a call the Ump made (a little guy too… I think his name was Napoleon).

Most of the guys I play with are acquaintances. People I have met by playing softball. The two guys that introduced me and brought me to the team are (to protect the innocent and guilty), Big Guy (BG) and Really Big Guy (RBG). I’ve been out with these guys for the infamous “Guys Night Out.” We have had a lot of fun together. Both of these guys are huge. I feel like a skinny 10 year old kid around these guys, because they not only tower over me, but they’re also built like linebackers.

This past Friday night our game was rained out so we went to a local establishment for a couple refreshments. RBG couldn’t go with us, but BG came along with his 7 year old son (BGK), who came to watch the game. The first round was ordered and LC (Left Center [Field]) put it on his tab. SS (Shortstop) gave BGK a couple of one dollar bills to play video games, while, Yours Truly, ordered a second round on my tab. As the waitress walked away a guy walked by our table and said, “Somebody dropped some money.” LC started to take it and I waved it over to me and said, “Its [BGK]’s money for the video games, he must have dropped it.” LC hands it to me and when I open the folded money, its two $50 bills. Everyone’s eyes light up and I say, “We’re drinking for free tonight boys.” I give one of the bills to LC and pocket the other. We order food and drinks and put it on the two tabs.

After eating, LC has to take off. He pays his tab and has $17 left over. He starts to leave me $10 and I tell him to take it with him. We have enough money to pay the tab. He says, “No, you guys stay until 2am and besides, I took $7 of it.”

We drink a few more and 1B (First Base) gets a phone call from his wife. She asks him to pick something up for her to eat. He orders food and starts to pay for it. I tell him just to put it on the tab, we have plenty of money. We continue to hang out and drink while he waits for his order.

After 1B gets his order, things are dying down and everyone is getting up to leave. I ask for the tab, which comes out to $47. Giving our waitress a $13 tip for the crappy service she provided is out of the question. I take a $5 bill out of my wallet and put the $10 in. I give the waitress the $55 and we all start to leave. BG looks down to notice that he didn’t pay for his $5 chicken strips. He says to SS and me, “Hey, is there any money left, I still have to pay for this.”

I look at him and say, “I have a $10 bill.” SS pulls a $5 bill out of his wallet and gives it to BG.

He looks at me and say, “How much is left over?”

I said, “Including what [LC] took $12.”

BG says, “Everyone got their food and drinks paid for out of that money, why do you get to take it home?”

I tell him, “You got all your drinks for free tonight, you ate off of [LC]’s pizza and you are going to bitch about paying $5 for your food?”

BG looks at me and say, “It’s not fair that everyone else got there stuff paid for, why does [SS] have to put up $5!”

I pulled out my wallet, grabbed the $5 bill SS had on the table threw the $10 out there (which I regret… I should have just thrown out the $10 bill, not taking $5) and said, “I can’t believe you are going to be such a little bitch about $5.” I head for the door.

Behind me I hear BG say, “What, you want to take this outside?” I look back over my shoulder to see him standing, ready to throw down. I just shake my head, turn and walk out. I just can’t believe that a “friend” would want to fight over $5.

(Just so you know, I’m the type of guy that buys a round and doesn’t worry about everyone buying. I could care less about everything being even and most of the time there are a couple of guys who bail before it gets around to them. We all give them shit, but we don’t care. I’m not trying to plead my case, it’s just that I am usually the last person to keep track of who bought what and when.)

So, what do you think? Was I guilty for “holding the money?” Was I a bad friend for not paying for his food with that $5?

Friday, June 24, 2005

 

Father-In-Law

I told WordWhiz I would blog about my experience with my Father-In-Law (FIL). There have been many, but I'll only tell a about a couple here. By the way, we sent him Swimming Sideways discussion about integrity (via the archaic print-and-snail-mail method). Renee added a note that said she liked the discussion and thought he might like it too. Yes, it was a little passive aggressive, but believe me, he won't put the two together.

After Renee worked an entire week to birth a beautiful baby boy, and after we brought our family home, the FIL called requesting a visit to see his new grandson. Now, when the FIL calls us and wants to drive the whole hour to see us, it usually sets Renee into anxious mode. And rightly so. Being the clueless, insensitive asshole he is, we usually hear inappropriate comments and "jokes" (i.e. making fun of Renee). During his prior visit, he told an 8-month-pregnant Renee, not once, but twice (we tried to just ignore the first comment), that, "you look like you're putting on a lot of weight." I told him flatly, "Don't go there, Keith!"He said, "Don't go there? I'm just teasing." I said, "Don't!"

(I need to preface with additional information. When we were in Chantilly(Renee would have been 7 months pregnant at that time) for my Sister-in-law's wedding, Renee's step-father called her "Fatty" every time he walked past her. Renee told me it bothered her and I told her to tell him to stop, and if there was a problem after that, I would take care of it. She told him to stop and he made a big scene out of it, saying he thought it was cute. She told him it wasn't and to stop. He did and both he and her mother didn't speak to her for the rest of their time there. Renee, for some reason, brought this up with the FIL, and his response was, "you shouldn't have disrespected him." This conversation happen prior to him coming out see us when Renee was 8 months pregnant. So he knew what a hot button it was for her.) [I hope I haven't lost anyone.]

Back to the original story. He comes out to see our beautiful Dane for the first time. When he comes to the door, Renee lets him in and the first words out of his mouth, the first fucking words were, "I thought you said you had that baby." I spun around and was just about to push this old fucking man out the door, when he saw the look in my eyes and said, "Guess I shouldn't have said that." I said, "That's right. You shouldn't have said that." I turned and walked into the other room, trying to maintain some semblance of control. I think I could have killed him!

Just so you know how things are now, the last time he came out to the house was in January (I think). When he got there, I met him at his truck and told him how it was going to be. I said, "Teasing Renee, making fun of her or arguing will no longer be tolerated here. If you do any of these things here, I will throw you out. Do we understand each other?" We got into it a little bit about the gee-it's-only-innocent-fun aspect. I told him I didn't care, it wasn't happening here. And said, "okay, okay." And we went inside and things chilled out. However, that was the last time he has come to our house and the last time I've seen him.

Renee met him at a park a last month, because she was in his area, but he behaved himself. So things are okay between them. I'm sure he's upset with me because I confronted him, but I just won't allow anyone in my family (or friends) to fall victim to assholes. Not if there is something I can do about it. I'm all for letting people fight their own battles, but I don't mind jumping in and giving it a go, if they are have problems.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

 

Boobs

Boobs. Men love'm. Babies love'm more. I'm going to try to meet the new Hofzinser Blogger Challenge, but it is going to be a real challenge. I don't know if I can tell why men love boobs, but I can tell you how I love them. Maybe by the end, I'll get to why (hell... maybe I'll be talking about religion by the end... ya neva kno).

I'll start with size, because for me, bigger is not better. A and B cups are perfect. I was never a fan of strip clubs. Watching pendulous sacks of flesh pushed together to accept $1 bills has never been a big deal to me. There are plenty of other parts of the female body that are far more appealing. And since Dane was born, I see them as (the women are going to hate me for this) functional. I'm not saying I ignore them, I just don't focus on them. They aren't only play toys for men, but a way to feed and nourish an infant.

Now, I may not be a breast man, but I'm a huge cleavage fan. I'm forever grateful of Victoria's Secret, who made the wonder-bra. Because it's the "in" thing, all these women are wearing them, making me salivate. I love to gawk and stare, at a pair in the there (I knew I could fit Dr. Seuss in there some where). The best boob is a pushed up boob. Once naked, they go back to functional status.

As to why men are so fond of breasts, it's beyond me. We could look at it from a biological perspective, in that, breasts are the immediate physical signifier of a female. (I have another theory about why men are so crazy about seeing two women kiss, but that is for another day... maybe Hof's next challenge!) And for some, that may be why bigger is better, it's more obvious.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

 

Dane's Daddy's Daddy

The is me, meeting the Hofzinser Blogger Challenge. My Dad and I had a very strained relationship when I was growing up. It's definitely been mended, but it took a long time before I could let it go. The fixing came after I had Dane and realized that my Dad did what he thought was the right thing. How can we really blame our parents for some of the stuff they do (yes, you can blame the parents for abuse... I'm talking about little parenting faux pas)? They are truly doing the best they can.

From the time I was born, I'm sure my Dad has loved me with every ounce of his soul. I don't think he was ever comfortable in the role of father. From reports from my Mom, he didn't like taking care of me by himself (when I was an infant). And that was sure the trend for the years after that. The weird part about that is, as kid, I had always thought of it as indifference rather than uncomfortableness. So doing stuff with my did was fun, but a little awkward.

My Dad was on the road as a salesman. He usually spent Monday through Thursday on the road. On Friday, we packed up and went to the farm for the weekend. We usually worked and came home on Sunday night. I have many fond memories of doing stuff as a family on the farm, but I also remember thinking my Dad was over working the family. I was a kid. Summer and weekends were for playing. And (you're gonna understand everything about who I am after I reveal this next part) being an only child, going to a farm where there were no other kids to hang out with, I hated going there. All my friends, my real relationships, were back at home. These were basically my brothers and sisters. And I wasn't lonely, I learned early in life to entertain myself, I just liked playing all the summer sports we used to play around the block (For Sandra: that block was in Blue Springs... know where that is?). To this day, I don't mind being alone or with people.

Growing up, I never had a consistent male role model. I was a mamma's boy. I didn't know how to be confrontational. I didn't know how or the eventual consequences of not standing up for myself. I got picked on in school, not because I was too weak to stick up for myself, but because I was afraid to. Later, in my 20's, I realized that the scars left from not stick up for yourself were worse than any scars you could get from a fight. I think I needed my Dad to tell me that. To say to me, "You don't have to take that shit from them. In fact, you shouldn't be taking that shit from them." Would it have made any difference? I don't know. I would like to think it would have, because I was finally taught that lesson in the military (That's another story for another day). So for the longest time, I blamed my Dad for not being there, for not teaching me how to be a man.

I had enough friends in my life to help me limp along through those years. Two of these friends really took me under their wings and protected me, stuck up for me and showed me that I was stupid for taking whatever shit people gave me. They were both the kind of guys that , "always stickin' up for you, even when I know your wrong." And I did the same for them. By the time Chris, came into my life, I was pretty beaten down. I remember going to a fair, that was popular when I was in high school, and a kid smaller than me started giving me crap. Most of the time I would just walk away from this kid at school, but because my friends were around I wouldn't take it. I tried to puff up and get into it with him, but my buddies, pull me aside and say to this kid, "is there a problem?" And he says, "nope," and walks off (he never bothered me again after that day). Scott was a little different in his approach, but basically showed me how to be more confident. I acted the part and it helped, but I wasn't really confident. That would, again, come later with the military... and age.

I think that Swimming Sideways is right when he talks about having the wrong parenting screws up your sights. I think there should be a clause in the rule that if your kids don't get the lessons from you, that there sights will always be off. I think that can be the case, but I think the clause should says, "but the sights can be corrected or screwed up more, if the opportunity is presents itself." Fortunately, the opportunity for me was more positive (than negative), and I learned good things from it. That's not always the case. I could have been recruited by a bunch of really bad kids and could have gotten into a lot of bad things. Some of the things I did weren't good. I didn't get out completely unscathed, but I learned a lot in different places.

I like myself as I am today. I feel self made, but that isn't entirely true. There are lots of lessons I learned as a child from my Dad. I just never attributed them to him until later in life. However, I often wonder how I would be different if my Dad had been around to teach me those lessons. I wonder if I would have been successful earlier in life. Not have to go through a lot of relationships to realize the confidence is in me, not the person I am dating. Lots of things could be different. But would they be?

I'm sure this has a lot to do with how I am raising Dane. I want to be very active in his life because my Dad wasn't. That doesn't mean he wasn't a good father. I just want to be a different father.

My Dad said something to me a long time ago that has stuck with me everyday of my life since he said it. One time while we were drilling wheat, I broke a piece of farm equipment because I backed up the tractor with the drill down. I felt really bad. It was a small piece so the equipment still worked, but not all of it. I asked him, "what are we going to do now?" Without looking at me he said, "We're going to do the best we can with what we've got." That really is a good lesson. I think that was also the same reason I realized, when my son was born, that my Dad did the very best he could for me. He did the best he could with the skills he had. And those skills were, and continue to be to this day, working hard for your family.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

 

Up?

NEWFLASH!!!! Dane just said his first word!! Renee was in the garden and heard Dane say, "up." She look back at him and there he was, with his arms up in the air. She said, "Up?" And he said, "up." So, she she picked him up and called me. Of course, he wouldn't say it then, so we got off the phone. She called me right back and told me he said it again... Three more times! Still nothing over the phone. I told her to keep practicing with him, so he'll do it when I get home.

YEAAA!

 

And now... back to Dane

I am so far behind in my posting. I have been going back and forth with Foilwoman on a wonder topic. I have been reading all of your fabulous blogs and not blogging about my wonderful son (and yes he is the best son... EVER!).

Let me tell you about this past week, Sunday to Sunday (June 12-19):

Sunday (June 12): Renee and I are sitting on the sofa with Dane. It's huge and over-sized, which gives Dane plenty of room to move around. Dane was laying on his stomach, kicking and laughing. As usual, he pushes himself up into the crawl position, then rocks a little before dropping back down. But this time, on the sofa, he pushes himself up into the seated position. And not just once, consistently. We clapped and cheered him on every time. It was great to see my son learn a new skill.

Monday (June 13): Getting ready for work, I watch Dane reach for toys, pull them close and then push himself up to the sitting position so he can play. I am amazed at how well he can do this, given he really gained the skill the day before (I'm not so naive to think he hasn't done it before, but I'm talking about consistently doing it). I drop him off on my way to work. Work: Blah, Blah, Blah. Head home. Dane's still doing a great job at sitting up all on his own.

Tuesday (June 14): Renee calls me at work and tells me that Dane is starting to crawl a little bit. He's going from sitting position to crawling position and then kind of scooting around. This call was in the morning. The next call is around 2pm. Renee, laughing, tells me, "Your son is crawling all over the place. I can barely keep up!" Of course, we haven't child-proofed our home yet, so she is try to do that as she keeps up with him. I was thinking that she may be exaggerating a little. I mean "can't keep up with him?" Come on.

When I got home, I quickly realized that she wasn't exaggerating. He was crawling like a mad man. And, yes, moving fast enough so that if you didn't watch him the entire time, he would be into something. I took some video of him crawling, but haven't quite figured out how to get it up on here... yet. Sandra sent me the player code (Thank you so much Sandra!!!!), but I haven't been able to get the video hosted. As soon as I do... you'll see it here!

Wednesday (June 15): Renee is still chasing Dane around the house. She understands completely why stay at home Mom's are so tired. She used to be able to sit him down and do something while he played in front of her. Now, she has to really watch him.

Thursday (June 16): We warn the babysitter that he's on the move. Her house is already child proof, but it's still good information for her to know. She loved it. She said she played with him all day and watched him crawl all over the place.

Friday (June17): Renee calls me, laughing hysterically. She told me that Dane was playing in the kitchen with her. She turned to see him moving to the dog's water bowl. So she picked it up and put it on the counter. She turns around to unload the dishwasher, when she turns back, Dane has pulled himself up and has a hand in each dog food bowl (we have elevated dog food bowls so our big doggies don't strain their necks... widdle big boys [said in my dog voice]. She picks up Dane and sits him on the sink to wash off his hands. She goes to wipe off his face when she notices... that's right... a big chunk of dry (not anymore) dog food in his mouth. Well, he's getting protein, right?

Saturday (June 18): My Mom comes out to see Dane crawl and just hang out. Nothing notable.

Sunday (Hooray for Father's Day): Renee and Dane get me up at the crack of dawn to give me my gifts. One is a big 8X10 frame with his hand prints all over the border and this picture of us at the baseball game:
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with "I love my Daddy" stuck to one of the hand prints. Renee got me a little kit to make a stepping stone:
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My hand print is in it with Dane's hand print in mine. It was a great gift!

Renee also made me dinner with a new fondue pot, because we both like The Melting Pot so much. Three courses and everything. It was nice to be able to have a meal like that at home. After that, we all took a nice afternoon nap.

So that was my week! What a great bunch of changes!

Saturday, June 18, 2005

 

Truce

Light of the World

Foilwoman, I can only offer you this picture: Christ is knocking at your door. The door has no knob on His side, only you can open it. The door has grown over in weeds and vines of the suffering you endure daily, that keeps Him out. He holds the light of the world in His hand, to guide your way. All you have to do is open the door.

I cannot convince you that God is almighty, or that he is more than gracious in our lives. I understand it's hard to see the good in a world that hits us everyday with horrible news of human atrocities, but the good things in the world are there. You have to choose to see them. I cannot make you see them (Kind of like the scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, when Tim shows King Arthur the horrible monster with "big pointy teeth." Tim screams, "THERE IT IS!" And King Arthur says, "What, behind the rabbit?" And Tim says, "IT IS THE RABBIT!" Well, that's what it like trying to show you the way... Sorry, maybe that wasn't the best way to get my point across. But it's a really funny scene, huh.).

Anyway, I think we are at a stalemate. Both of us sit on our respective sides of the fence. Both of us have excellent, but unprovable points. Both are really circular arguments. So I offer a truce.

As fun as it is to have this debate... it sure is draining. Let's talk about something, anything, else.

Friday, June 17, 2005

 

Life Support System for a Penis

As I read through Foilwoman's post, I have to respond to something that she said, that I took particular offense to (well, not really... that's kind of a strong word... maybe slight irritation is better).

Foilwoman-"But I've had two kids (and oodles of miscarriages) and I don't think any guy can say he's created half that amount of life (or potential life) with his own body. Maybe with someone else's, but not his own."

I'm not going to ever downplay the significance of pregnancy or child birth. I'm truly amazed at the development of a baby while in a woman's body. And birth, at the very least, is an emotionally overwhelming experience. However, to suggest that a man hasn't created life, is not at all true (and women can't do it on there "own" either). I will say that the man's job from conception (which is actually pleasurable on both sides) to birth (by no means is it a "fun" experience to watch the woman you love be in excrutiating pain for 54 hours) is not as difficult as the woman's, but that is 9 months out of a life time.

When we were going through our birthplan with our Doctor, we were pretty uptight about how we wanted things to go. No epidural. No episiotomy. Constant stretching to avoid tearing. Our Doctor told us that he would do everything thing he could to follow the plan and only if it was an emergency, would he deviate from the plan. Then he said something that made perfect sense. He told us that labor and delivery is one day (actually, it turned out to be 2 1/4 days... but who's counting) in the life of you and your child. He said, "it's important, but certainly not any more significant than taking care of yourself through out the pregnancy or your roles as parents when your child turns 16."

Now I'm going to take that and run with it. And I'm sure there are plenty of father's who would agree with me (Foilwoman: Even you stated that your Husband is wonderful with the children) that men are just as important in creating a life outside the womb. We are not just a sperm donator. There are bad fathers out there. They give up a little "baby gravy" and poof they are "biological fathers." There are also bad mother's out there too. Who, after having a baby, do more to emotionally "kill" there child, than create them.

So, please don't bash the men in you life anymore than they deserve (we certainly deserve it a lot of the time... but not for this).

Thursday, June 16, 2005

 

Drops of Jupiter

On the way into work, I heard "Drops of Jupiter" by Train. I haven't heard the song in a while, so I was excited to hear the line:
"Your best friend always stickin' up for you.
Even when I know you're wrong."

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

 

My Baby Boy

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Here is Dane as drawn by the most excellent artist, Hofzinser. I can't thank you enough. This, truly, is a wonderful gift.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

 

Hope = God

(Bit of a side note to readers: I worked on this last night from 10:30pm until midnight. I pushed the post button and received a lovely "network error." When I went back... everything was gone. Devastated... I went to bed. I typed it into Word today and transferred it.)

In case you haven't been keeping up, take a look at our conversation. Once you're up to speed, read further. And if anyone out there wants to help me out, please do. I think I may be out of my league here.

I'll try to be succinct, but it's probably not going to happen. I'm going to go through as many ideas as Foilwoman has thrown at me. Let's start with a specific idea first, the male or female of God. Pretty easy way to ease into the pool. I guess my thought on that is, God just is. God created us as male and female, but God isn't either one. Referencing God as He just kind of keeps it simple. If you prefer She, that's fine with me. I just don't think I can refer to God as It (which is a really great Stephen King novel... oops... sorry).

Moving on to a loving caring God that allows things like genocide and cruelty. I think that human beings in all of our flaws and sinful nature has turned the world into what it is... a cruel place to live. I don't think that God wants the world to be like this, but people have turned there back on God and toward earthly things like power, greed, the forbidden. We are all basically Freud's Id, until we have been educated and disciplined. Look at babies, if you were to make a baby 6 feet tall and 200 pounds, they would be murderous in their desires to have whatever they wanted. It is in our nature to be selfish and take what we want. I would like to think that we all have had a choice in the matter of turning to or away from God, but that is something I don't know about. How does a person turn away from how he/she has been raised? Ineffective and bad parents can certainly raise a child into a bad person. But we also see good people from bad homes. The same can be said for good homes and bad kids. I don't know the equation to that one. There is a bigger deal at work than I can understand.

My pastor does a healing services at church. We discussed this in our Tuesday night class. He told us he didn't understand how one person can pray for healing and die within a week, and another person can pray and be totally healed. He said, "Did she not pray hard enough? Did she do something long ago that made her unworthy of healing?" He said he didn't understand, but he's seen prayer work. I'll admit that I am a little skeptical of some of the healing stuff. But how else do you explain it?And does our understanding of something like that have to be the case for it to really happen? Part of the problem, I think is that our ego has gotten to be too big. We think we know so much, that there isn't a reason to have God, because we can play God. But God is the Alpha and the Omega. Beginning and End. He is outside of time and space. He is in the past, present and future. He knows our every move before we take it, before we have even thought about it. Everyone's thoughts, not just mine, but my wife's, my dog's (that's another topic... if you want to get into that one), everyone's thoughts. Our understanding (and I'm talking about the understanding of all people, in all sciences), is not one grain of sand on an infinite beach, compared to His understanding. He knows the secrets of the universe, from infinite space to a single atom. Even our own brain, we have such limited understanding. So, don't you think that maybe there is a bigger concept of the complexities of the world than we could possibly understand? Could it be that even if the plan was all laid out in front of us, there is no way we could possibly comprehend it? Maybe people die (even cruel deaths) to fulfill something. The old butterfly effect. We cannot possibly know what seeds are planted when a single event happens in the world.

There has to be something bigger at work, right? I mean what is the alternative? Let's take the argument that we all came from a single celled amoeba. And from that we grew into what we are today. The big question is: why? What's the worth of my life if I am a controlled series of chemical reactions? What is the purpose of me being here, if that is all I am? Where is the hope? If that is the case, what is the difference between Hitler and Mother Theresa? Certainly we can say both had great accomplishments. Why doesn't recorded history say Hitler was a genius in taking over Europe? Why isn't Mother Theresa's compassion deemed ridiculous and weak? I think the answer to all of this is that there is hope. Doesn't the world seem hopeless if there is no reason for it, no reason to be good or for others to be good to us? Why go on living when there is no purpose in suffering, no purpose in growing? Hope is what keeps us alive. Hope sustains us when the suffering is that bad. Without God there is no Hope.

I think God is very interested in us and wants us to turn to him. I think God has much more insight into what happens when we leave here. For Him, death is a rebirth into something far better than anything on earth. It removes all suffering and makes you perfect. He only asks that you believe.

I know I have missed some of your specific points, so let me know what they are. My attempt was to cover ideas rather than specific questions. But I can do that too.

So, back at cha'!

Thursday, June 09, 2005

 

The Happy Parents

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Mommy and Daddy in Mexico... Before Dane!

 

Just figured out how to post pictures

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Dane's List of Things to do next:
  1. Crawl
  2. Stand on my own
  3. Walk

 

Waaaaah = Soothe me

Our poor child. I'm assuming he is in a "phase" or something.

He has been a little crabby lately. And for good reason, he hasn't been sleeping. Most infants his age need around 12-15 hours of sleep a day. Lately, he hasn't been taking his morning nap, which puts him at about 10 hours. I know it's pretty close. I would think he would be exhausted in the afternoon, but he fights taking a nap in the afternoon. We tried letting him zonk out when he's tired, but then he gets over tired and that's a mess.

All this has been taking place over the last week or so. In addition to that, at night, he wakes up around 11pm wanting to be held. I have been going in there, picking him up and rocking him back to sleep on my chest. When I lay him down in the crib, he throws a fit. So in thinking we are starting some bad habits, we have been trying to let him work it out on his own. But listening to him cry and not do anything to soothe him is very difficult, especially when I know it will calm him down.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

 

Guide

Last Friday, we took Dane to his 9 month check-up. Fully expecting more shots we were pleasantly surprised when none were given. He does great when he gets them, so we weren't really too concerned if it was time for another round. He jumps a little when the needle goes in and gives us a funny look. Then it's over and he smiles again. Except for one rather viscous solution, he does well to walk it off.

This time our Doctor looked him over and said he was looking great. He showed us where Dane fell on the growth chart. In height, he was at the 80%ile. In weight, he was at the 40%ile. The Doctor informed us, now that he is starting to be more mobile (he hasn't crawled yet, but he's up and rocking), his weight will plateau compared to height. He's also moving along developmentally, just like clockwork.

At work today, a little boy was running down the hall. He was about 2 years old. I began to think about Dane being that age. It is so hard for me to imagine him running around, doing boy things, being rambunctious, just making his father proud. It's right around the corner for me and it's still almost impossible for me to imagine.

Something even more abstract, is the idea of him as an adult. It's hard for me to wrap my brain around the concept that one day, he will be as tall as me (or taller), making his own decisions and will be more of an equal, than a son to guide. I know that guiding my son will always be an aspect of our relationship, but at some point (I don't know when it happened for my Dad and me) the father looks at his son as grown, mature and capable. That just seems so far away, but I've heard it happens in the blink of an eye.

Looking over what I just typed, I like the sound of guide. Guide, to me, describes my role as a parent. I liken it to a river guide or a rock climbing guide. The guide is experienced, but doesn't know everything. A guide learns as much from the guided, as the guided learns from the guide. The guide realizes that ultimately, the decision is made by the guided, but it is up to the guide to transfer his knowledge and experience, so the guided can make the best decision. The guide allows the experience to take place without unnecessary interference, so confidence is built and there is less reliance on the guide. I think that describes my goals rather well.

Yeah, I'm not just Dane's father, I'm his life guide.

Monday, June 06, 2005

 

When "It wasn't me" can't get you out of a predicament.

This blog is primarily about my son and my experience being his father. However, I am going to side step a little today to talk about something I think is hilarious (maybe you had to be there... I'm not sure).

After discussing and deliberating with my colleagues, we have come up with the one beat-all, end-all phrase, that should pretty much get you out of any trouble. If O.J. would have utilized this novel phrase, there would not have been a trial.

But first, some history, so you understand how we came to such an unprecedented notion.

It all started one day when a parent decided to take their child to school (notice how completely anonymous this is). The child had been removed from a mainstream school due to "problems" and sent to another school that could handle these kinds of "problems." Now this other school was out on summer vacation and the parent decided that they would take the child back to the mainstream school. I don't know the reason why the parent took the child to the mainstream school, my guess is that the parent didn't want to have to spend a whole day with their beloved child.

The mainstream school calls and calls the parent, but to no avail. The child, during the day, became a "problem" and had to be restrained several times. Just so you know, this isn't the part I think is funny... at all.

The mainstream school finally contacts the parent and informs them of their desire to have the child picked up. The parent complies and the child is once again in the safety of the loving parent. The mainstream school principle inquired of the parent, "Why did you drop off [child's name] at our school?" The parent said (are you ready for this?):

"Well, I thought it would be okay."
The mainstream school principle, staring, mouth agape, says, "Oh." And off into the sunset goes parent, child in tow. On to the next adventure in dysfunction.
So this is the new phrase. Use it at will. It should get you out of any circumstance.
Example: After robbing a bank, I am questioned by two detectives. The first detective informs me, "We have you on video robbing the bank, are you going to confess or not?" Thinking of a clever little hip-hop song, I look right into the eyes of the detective and say, "It wasn't me."
The second detective says, "Look, we have your finger prints on the money we recovered. We have you on the surveillance video. We have someone who recognized you in the bank. We even have you on video, responding to the person who yelled out your name. And you are going to tell me that this isn't you?"
Yikes, I'm in a tight spot. I'm pretty sure they have me. So I decided to use the big guns... the mighty phrase. The one tool in my arsenal that I had decided to use only as a last resort. I tell the detectives, "Well, I thought it would be okay."
Insert: long dramatic silence.
Insert: Open mouth stare.
Insert: Shrug.
The first detective say, "oh." (Note: size of text is directly proportional to sound in decibels.)
The second detective say, "okay... well... I guess you can... um... go." [Insert: questioning looks and shrugs
between the detectives.] "Just don't... ah... let this happen again..."
Works every time!!!!

Friday, June 03, 2005

 

The A.D. Relationship

"I would love to hear how your feelings for your wife have changed since having a child. "-Hof

Since you asked.

I really hadn't given this matter a whole lot of thought. Being a guy, I don't explore my feelings about something at random. It usually takes a prompt, but then you usually get slathered with emotional butter. Rich, thick and full of TMI.

My first thought when I read Hof's statement was, "One thing's for sure, I gained a lot of respect for her." Renee went through a whopping 54 hours of labor, unmedicated and feeling every contraction. In case you don't know this, labor lasts an average 17 hours, from the first contraction until the baby is out. She went through enough labor to have 3 children. AND she did great! At one point I asked her if it hurt. When the contraction would start, she would be quiet and just relax. Then when it was over, we would talk and everything would be normal. I timed them to make sure she knew how much time she had before the next one. It honestly looked effortless. Of course, she told me later that when I asked her if it hurt, she wanted to smack me.

So that's the easy answer. A man answer. Not detailed. Here is the harder answer.

For as much respect as I have gained for her, there are times when I don't treat her with that respect. There are times that we get irritated and short with each other because our own needs aren't getting met. There are times that we argue about who does more around the house. It's all petty stuff. Stupid stuff that, at the time, can turn into a big fight because both of us are hard headed and won't back down. I am ashamed to say that I haven't been the best husband I could be.

There are, however, just as many good things in our relationship that have become even better. As our routine with Dane becomes more solid (along with his poop), we have been a great team. We have been better at just stopping the toxicity of an argument that really has no point. We have become more committed to our relationship as the foundation of our family. We have fallen deeper in love as our view of each other has transformed from husband/wife to include Daddy/Mommy.

Looking at our relationship After Dane (A.D.), and comparing it to Before Dane (B.D.), I don't think it has changed as much as it has evolved. Maybe even "evolved" is the wrong word. Growth maybe better. Like a tree, each branch symbolizing a different aspect of our relationship, it grows many branches. Yet, it's still the same tree.

That, to me, is good news. Now that I think about it, I might have been a little worried if someone informed me that my relationship with my wife was going to change A.D. That somehow, we would love each other differently. For some, that is exactly what happens. I think they get caught up in Baby (which would be very easy to do) and forget each other.

So, I guess that is how I feel. All squishy and mushy.

Please excuse me... I have to start my chainsaw or build a deck or something, so I can return to my average man status.

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