Being the father of Dane (and Drake).

Where did everyone go?

2010-03-04T11:11:00.000-08:00

Um. Sorry. Wow. Um. It's been a long time. Um, how have you been doing?

Oh, things are great here. Gosh, it seems like ages since we last spoke.

Yeah, I know. We need to keep in touch.

Okay. You too. Talk to you later. Bye.

Pat

2007-10-11T11:52:00.000-07:00

Renee: "What do you want to name your goldfish?"

Dane: "Pat."

Renee: "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Dane: "I don't know."

Later that afternoon...

Renee: "He named his fish Pat."

Andy, confused: "Where did he get that name?"

Renee, smiling: "I don't know."

Even later...

Andy: "Dane? What did you name your fish?

Dane: "I don't know."

Andy: "You don't remember?"

Dane: "No."

Renee: "Is his name Pat?"

Dane: "Yeah, Pat."

Renee: "Who do you know that's named Pat?"

Dane: "My fish."

Does it get any better than that?

BLAA

2007-06-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

I am the worst. My posts are lame and infrequent... And not about Dane. Maybe one of these days I'll have something interesting to say.

How about this:

Dane puked two nights ago. From his bedroom at 11:00pm, we hear Dane calling for us and crying. We rush to his room. Vomit all over his bed, Dane is crying and scared. Renee hoists him out of bed to soothe him. After he calms down, he says, "Dad, I went BLAA."

Post Secret

2007-05-20T14:12:00.000-07:00

I wish they were talking about me.

Work, Work, Work

2007-05-08T05:44:00.000-07:00

Sorry I haven't posted in forever. I do keep up with all of you (and some of you are as bad as me). Coming up with something creative to write about has been difficult, given all the stuff going on. I will be up to date pretty soon. Just trying to finish things on the house.

Anyway, here is picture of Dane and me.

Hope all is well out in the blogosphere!

Respiratory Syncytial Virus

2007-01-08T12:00:00.000-08:00

Drake has RSV. He was diagnosed last week and you can read more about it here. It isn't all that significant, since most children are exposed to it prior to age two. However, if an infant gets the virus prior to the age of six months, it can lead to hospitalization due to bronchitis and/or pneumonia. Furthermore, infants who were/are premature, are especially at-risk due to underdeveloped lungs.

So with two strikes against him, our little man knocks it out of the park. Yes, he has the virus, but he's doing great. The respiratory infection doesn't seem to have as big effect on him as the drainage from his sinuses. He's stopped up and can't breathe through his nose, which makes him very restless at night. That also means that Renee and I get very little sleep.

Now, Dane is sick with something. Probably a sinus infection. Last night, he had a temperature of 101. It really hasn't effected him (maybe a little more whiney) all that much. He still has lots of comments ("binky's in the bucket", "Drake sick" and "Daddy go work on new house") and is just as active as always.

I have been working on the house all weekend. With the help of my friends, we are going to get this house done. Siding will be up by the end of next weekend. Hopefully, the mudding and taping will be done next week. Then we will get the painting done and install the flooring. Then doors, cabinets and trim. Then we move... Sound easy, huh...

Renee Has A Blog

2006-12-26T19:31:00.000-08:00

My wonderful wife has decided to enter the blogoshpere. She is still trying to get everything on her blog to be just right and then she is going to start posting. She will be far more consistent than I have been (I'm trying... honestly). Check her out sometime... I do.

Daguerreotype

2006-12-22T10:21:00.000-08:00

I have been pretty lame when it comes to posting. I rather enjoy snooping around the blogosphere, looking at the lives of the Vegas Bloggercon Gang and others. Some have moved on, apparently getting bored of daily entries into their web log. As for myself, I would like to say that I have been too busy with a house, a job and two wonderful boys, but that's not entirely true. It seems as though, by the end of the day, I want to do absolutely nothing. It isn't a lack of energy. It seems like my brain just wants to hibernate and not perform anything more than menial tasks ("Yes Dane, that's Drake nose.").

Two weeks ago, I started running again in the mornings. This week, I ran my usual 5k four times. It has been making a little bit of difference. It seems like I should feel more tired with more activity and less sleep, but I don't. I'm also trying to eat better (being at work doesn't help... junk food everywhere). Maybe by Spring I can look like my avatar again.

On to Dane:

I don't know that I can describe the deep bond that I have with Dane, but I'll try. Everyday I love him a little more (if that's possible). I see him as a little me with a world full of potential. I watch him and his reactions to things and it's like I can tell you what he's thinking. Everyday I go to work I want to take Dane with me. I love walking around in a store with him, holding his hand as he tells me about the things he sees. On Wednesday, when I went to work, he kissed and hugged me and said, "be careful." It just about made me cry!

I have a deep bond with Drake too, only it's different right now. He's an infant that, although is interactive, just isn't as much as Dane. I'm sure as Drake gets older, we will also have that same bond.

That's about it for now. Not a lot of useful information, but maybe snapshot of where I am emotionally.

Dane Dances With Goats

2006-12-15T14:04:00.000-08:00

No... really... I have a picture to prove it.

See!!!

Thanksgiving

2006-11-27T08:19:00.000-08:00

Dane visited Santa Claus again this weekend... check it out!

The whole family went to my Aunt Kathy's house for Thanksgiving. Memorable experiences? I think so:

On the way to Kathy's, Dane pees through his diaper and his car seat. We had to take out the cushion and backing from the seat, and put my sweatshirt in so it was comfortable.
After changing his clothes and getting the seat ready, Dane tells us, "Butt! Butt!" Huge poopie... time for another change.
Dane finally lays down for a nap at 2:30pm (usually at 12:30pm). Renee goes in to check on him and finds him sitting up with his sippy cup. He looks at her excitedly and says, "I drink milk!"
On the way home, he hands Renee his pacifier and says, "Icky binky!" She takes it and asks, "Do you smell something?" She turns on the light. Dane has puked on himself.

Hope all of you had a wonderful Thanksgiving too!!!

Bad Andy

2006-11-15T07:14:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm the worst person ever. I fall off the face of the earth, don't post and forget to call my Mother back. Beat me with the yellow pages and a night stick (like they did in the good old days). I deserve it!

A lot has happened (and not happened). Our little family is doing well. We have all been getting more sleep (with the exception of Dane, who never had less sleep). However, the house is not built and may never be at this rate.

Dane has turned two and never fails to amaze me. Yesterday, he opened his Thomas the Train book and began "reading." The words weren't exactly right, but they were close enough to understand what was going on in the story. He runs, he plays, he's a little boy. What a marvelous time in his life to watch him grow!

Back Home

2006-08-25T13:40:00.000-07:00

The whole family is at home now. Drake is doing great, even though he was circumcised today. Dane is doing well too (he was circumcised too, but not today). He has been a little crabby today, but I think it more to do with how much he slept last night, than having a new little brother. I think the hardest part so far, has been trying to contain Dane while holding Drake. Well... and not sleeping much...

Drake/Fearless

2006-08-20T11:18:00.000-07:00

Drake is still at the hospital with Renee. He is eating well most of the time (usually all but one feeding). On Thursday, they had to put in a feeding tube to pour Renee's milk in, when he wouldn't eat. She feeds him every 3 hours and is exhausted. I've been staying up there as much as I can, while my Mom watches Dane. Still... there isn't a whole lot I can do. I try to make sure Dane doesn't think we've abandoned him. This has been difficult for the whole family. Hopefully, Drake will be coming home early this week.

Since this blog is about Dane, let's not leave our fearless little man out of the posts any longer. Last month, we stayed at a friends house for my 20 year high school reunion (yes... I'm that old...). Dane stacked up all of the pillows off of their couch. He would jump onto them like a stunt man. He missed on this one:

I've been think of starting a new blog for both of the boys... Thought about naming it... are you ready for this?... Raising Double D's...

I Don't Know How He Knows... But He Knows...

2006-08-16T18:58:00.000-07:00

Dane is amazing! We took him into see Drake for the first time yesterday. I didn't think he would really understand what was going on, but when we went back to see him again today, he was saying "Dake! Dake!" He knows his little brother.

We were also a little worried about how he would touch him when he got close enough. I was amazed at how soft he touched Drake. And I have the pictures to prove it!!!!!

Check out the shirt Renee made for him!
The new family picture.

Baby Drake

2006-08-15T09:16:00.000-07:00

Our little man came into the world 5 weeks early. He weighs 4 pounds, 8 ounces. He is 18 inches long. Mommy, Daddy, Dane and Drake are all doing well! More later...

The Latest!

2006-08-05T12:16:00.000-07:00

Good view of the bonus room!

Zoo/Latest Pictures Of The House

2006-08-04T21:04:00.000-07:00

A quick family picture of us at the Zoo. Dane was great! The first animals we went to were the monkeys and he loved it. We started to leave to see more animals and Dane turned into "collapse-a-kid." He didn't quite have the understanding that there would be more animals. We told him there were lots of other animals to see, but I don't think he believed us until we saw the bears. We had a great time! Renee is doing wonderfully and we are about a month away from the "Deuce!"

I tried to upload these to Blogger last week and I was having problems. So really... they aren't the most recent pictures. Tomorrow, we are going out to take more pictures and I'll try to upload them. Currently, the second floor exterior and interior walls are up (maybe even some of the roof).

The windows will actually be the same from the great room (windows on the left) all the way down to the basement. A little mess up that they are going to fix soon.

We are so excited!!! I'll try to post more tomorrow!

Deep Thought

2006-07-15T19:00:00.000-07:00

As I was mowning the lawn, and then again after I was giving Dane a ride on the "tractor" (incidently, he can't drive very well), I had a deep thought:

Dane wants to be just like me, but more than anything in the world, I want him to be himself... and nothing like me.

Building Our Home

2006-06-27T08:30:00.000-07:00

It has been hard work and it seems to be paying off so little, but here is what has been happening so far.

Clearing the lot.

Excavating.

Foundation.

Next week we are going to start framing the house... well... hopefully.

Part 3... Finally

2006-06-24T10:31:00.000-07:00

I'll try to finish this off... I have so many other things going on that I want to post about. So please understand that if this is short, it has less to do with the amount of fun I had and more to do with just finishing this thing that I have put off.

I woke up the next morning with a bastard of a hang-over. Renee and I wanted to see the strip so we let Darla hang out with Dane until after his first nap. We travelled towards Hooter's Casino (yea!!!). I called McG to see what they were doing and found out that they were walking the strip too. We decided to meet up at the MGM after we ate.

Hooter's Casino was not all I thought it would be. It was nice. There was some live island music playing next to the pool. The waitresses in their horrible Hooter's outfits, were not knock-dead-gorgeous like I thought they would be (maybe they didn't seem as hot because Renee was there...). In St. Louis, the Hooter's at Westport have some very pretty girl... I just figured Vegas would have a "higher" league. Guess not.

(Sidenote: Please do not think of me as some chauvinistic man. I think that places like Hooter's can be looked at negatively. These place can be seen as exploitive of women. I do not agree with this view and could see men be more exploited by these places because we are so stupid. All a woman has to do is smile at a man just right and he is willing to give up all of his prized possession for her attention. The real reason I go to Hooter's? Honestly, it's the wings. The scenery is nice too, but it's not the reason I go.)

After we eat our fine lunch. We hook up with McG, Gibby's Girl, Jay-Rod and Vbkim. Jay-Rod didn't show... he was still asleep in the room (apparently, he had one to many sissy mudslides). So we walked up and down the strip. Darla and Dane joined us and we went to the M&M store. Dane loved it!

After we parted ways, Renee and I tried to see more of the strip, but the heat and the previous night were taking a toll. We went back to the room and crashed.

The next morning, rejuvenated, we had breakfast and went gambling. I lost $200 in about 45 minutes. So we walked around the strip some more. I was feeling pretty sick from the breakfast. I think I had a touch of food poisoning, and felt like I needed to hurl all day. This made traveling back to St. Louis the worst evening of the trip. It affected me over the next couple of days at home.

So that was Vegas. I met a bunch of wonderful people and felt a real bond with McG. I'm hoping we can have our boys meet soon.

Up and coming posts: pictures of our house being built, summertime and Memorial day pictures Dane and Father's Day pictures... stay tuned.

A Whole Month For Part 2? Are You Kidding?

2006-05-21T05:44:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes... I am utterly lame. Sorry. So when I finished the last posting, I was so tired from traveling... with a toddler... at 1am... and.... since then have been working my ass off to get our new house built... I'll try to do better in the future. I've been taking lots of pictures to show too.

So, we get Renee to the Monorail and head towards... the bar? (This is where I may need some help clarifying what happened.) We (Jay-Rod) met some guy with "money" when we dropped Renee off. He was with his girlfriend and a friend. Obnoxious guy (OG) and Desperate Girlfriend (DG) is what I'll call them. The friend was on his cell phone too much to really be a part of the story.

We needed some drinks and went to one of the little bars in the casino (ummm... Paris?). Gibby's Girl was fiercely attempting to win at video poker (and she did... $4), while McG and I started talking. (This is the part where I tell you intimate secrets about my feelings and really lose all manliness.) You know when you meet someone for the first time and it seems like you've know the person forever? That's how it seemed with McG. We saw things pretty much the same with OG and DG. Later on, as we toured the strip together... sober, we spoke of similar ideas and interests. And add in that we have boys that are about the same age and I felt like we could have talked for hour about nothing and everything... enough of the silliness.

DG began telling McG and I about their relationship, which is usually something I avoid at all costs. When people start throwing things out to strangers like this, I usually do anything to change the subject. For some reason, listening to a story about a potential trainwreck was appealing (I'm sure it was, in part, due to the alcohol). She informed us that they had gotten back together and had come to Vegas (I don't know which came first... Vegas or them getting back together). She proceeded talk about how they had sex all afternoon, which I doubted based on his and her "level of fitness." While she told us these things-not-for-strangers-ears, I kept getting this feeling that his idea of sex was a rough one. I also got the feeling that most of the reason she was with him was because of the money he could spend on her... and putting up with his little penis and rough sex was well worth the dough he would drop on her while in Vegas. (McG: Correct me if I'm wrong...) Just a feeling I got... there was more evidence through out the night, but that was where it started.

Anyway... we wound up back at TI (Treasure Island for all you non-Vegas people). We went to the... Tangerine? (Help me out here... ) OG had VIP tickets so we didn't have to wait in the mile long line (Don't think I don't realize what a whore I was for using them... I know... I got it). The place was absolutely packed with people. The music was okay and I wanted to dance. So... OG went to get drinks for everyone and I asked if I could dance with DG. We were already kind of dancing as a group anyway and it seemed the easiest way to dance without having to dance with some random girl through out the night. He looked at her and pulled her close to talk to her. Then they left together to get drinks. I just shook my head to McG...

As we stood there, a girl in a school girl outfit was hanging out near us (we'll call her SG). I don't think she was all that great looking, but what she was wearing was hot. Unfortunately, her friend was huge! I don't mean overweight... I mean morbidly obese. And she wouldn't let SG move so much as an inch away from her. So, as the great wingman that I am, I squeezed between them while McG moved to SG's six. He talked and I danced with the ogre (which is fine with me... I really just wanted to dance). After a while, McG was obviously not going to go to "missiles," the ogre grabbed her hand and they moved off into the crowded club. McG had this huge grin on his face, lowered his sunglasses. WTF! All that I time spent on distraction and for what? (FYI: I wasn't really expecting anything... I just thought it was fun.)

I keep looking at my watch because the monorail closes at 3am (or was it 2am?). OG and DG were doing some nasty grinding action on the dance floor. OG looks at everyone, points to the bar and heads toward it, leaving DG behind. McG starts dancing with her, so I join in. She's laughing and then tells us we are going to get her in trouble. OG comes back, hands a drink to DG and McG. I mention this not to complain about not getting a drink. It seemed pretty obvious that he was making a point... and I understood clearly. I told McG that I was heading out to catch the monorail.

As I sprinted to get to one of the last monorail rides of the evening. I fumed over, what I thought, was his insecurity. Was he really threatened by a married man? I don't know. Maybe I misperceived the events... who knows. I bought a coffee at our hotel, took it upstairs with me and set it on the nightstand.

I woke up in the morning and.........

Part 3? Maybe I'll get to it in another month, eh?

BloggerCon Dinner, Part 1

2006-05-02T19:56:00.000-07:00

If you didn't go to Vegas this weekend for BloggerCon, you definitely missed out on some absolutely wonderful people! It's very interesting to meet people face to face after reading their blog for several months. They aren't strangers, but at the same time... I don't' how to explain it! The point is: I have never felt so comfortable with a bunch of people I had never really met.

But let's get to the good stuff, eh? Renee, Darla, Dane and I took the monorail to the Paris ("not really Paris" as I have been told by SOMEONE) and then on foot (and stroller) to the Aladdin to meet everyone at Max's Cafe. I forgot to bring my e-mail from Paige and for some reason had it in my head that we were meeting at Lombardi's. After a quick call to Paige and a restrained walk/run, we made it.

There sat Paige, Gibby's Girl, McG, vbkim, Jay-Rod (nobody loves Mudslides more than you!), Bornfool, Kira and Alex. I think that if I didn't take Dane to Kira right away, she might have taken him and run. Right after we arrived, WordWhiz, Paul, Ol'Hoss and Vickie showed up. We ordered dinner and a few drinks.

Now a few drinks turned into shots of tequila. Now, when I say shots what I really mean is 8oz. glasses of tequila (3 of them to be exact... imagine our surprise to find out they were 3 fer 1... oh my...). Kira describes very precisely what happened here, but here are some pictures (you know... to give you a better idea).

Luckily, Darla and Dane had left to go back to the hotel. After several stories from Jay-Rod ("Connecticut") and McG ("my Dad hates you"), we decided to escort my wife back to the Monorail.

As we walked through some of the shops, McG had to get into a breakdancing/You-Got-Served Showdown with some local teenagers. We also stopped for a "mudslide," a miller beer and a flat tire, while Renee pleaded for us to keep moving toward the Monorail.

Stay tuned for part 2 of BloggerCon Dinner (sorry, I'm pretty tired... you'll understand later).

At Some Point You Just Stop Looking

2006-04-26T13:56:00.000-07:00

It has never been my intent to allow such a huge lag time between posts. There have been several times that I wanted to write up some of the events going on in my life. But you know what? I haven't had the energy to do something as simple as push buttons on a keyboard. When the thought of posting came to mind, it sure seemed easier to watch TV or just lay down and go to sleep. The past couple of months have been a series of emotional highs and lows. My tolerance for frustration, lack of follow-through and poor response or service from professionals I am paying, has ceased to exist. Quite honestly, there have been times that, had I been given the opportunity, would have given up. These experiences have effected all aspects of my life, from work to home and all the blurry lines in between.

Of course, there is also the inescapable thought that rolls through my head that says, "Wow, when did you become such a whiney little bitch! Anyone would love to have the problems you have." Having the opportunity to build a house? Qualifying for and getting a loan to build that house? Having a job that not only provides great insurance, but pays more than I have ever made in my life? Being able to exercise/run? Having my health? Having a wonderful boy? Having a loving wife pregnant with my second child? Wouldn't most people think that I am living the American dream?

So, yes, I am still trying to make sense of it all. I'm working on it though. Maybe even making some head way. By the end of the process, I might have actually grown a little wiser and hopefully a little more patient with life.

One Potato... Two Potato...

2006-01-27T19:25:00.000-08:00

With the prospects of new baby on the way, I find myself a little anxious. Having a second child seems a daunting challenge. Dane is in no way a difficult child, but still requires time. It is difficult for me to imagine how it will work when number two comes along. So how do you make time to take care of an infant while keeping your 2 year old from playing in the street, catching on fire or being abducted by aliens (or worse). I have a vision of wearing goalie pads while changing diapers, using my hockey stick to keep Dane “in-play.”

Maybe my goal should be to teach Dane how to change diapers or at least enlist his help. Being an only child, I don’t know what Dane is about to face. The closest thing I had to a sibling was a cousin and I saw her pretty infrequently. I’m sure there are plenty of creative techniques that parents of more than one child have employed to keep number one busy (1 through 4…whatever), while they were occupied with another, but I haven’t been made privy to them. So it will be 100% learning, with a pretty marginal rate of failure. I take that back, I have the experience of knowing what to do this time around with an infant, but still…

I’m sure I will pull it together. I’m sure it seems like the giant Rubik’s Cube (interesting analogy if your interested in hearing it), but eventually it will turn into routine.

Test

2006-01-24T14:06:00.000-08:00

This is a bit freaky! Somewhat accurate...

Andy took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!

"Desires a tranquil, peaceful state of harmony offe..."

Click here to read the rest of the results.

2006-01-21T08:35:00.000-08:00

Sad News Today

2006-01-04T17:53:00.000-08:00

A good friend of mine called me today with some very tragic news. His baby girl passed away in her mother's womb. His wife delivered her today after being pregnant for 8 months. He told me (it's just so heart breaking) they were able to hold her and say goodbye.

It's so sad...

Hug your children tonight if you have any. Say a prayer for my friend and his wife as they struggle through this very difficult time.

It Really Isn't All That Bad

2006-01-03T16:47:00.000-08:00

I read Clora's dilemma today, but I wanted to comment from my blog rather than pollute her's with my opinion. Clora wrote:

I'm scared. On one hand I wanted to be a mother someday...on the other I don't want to be one right now. If it turns out I am, then I will own up and be the best mom I can be. I'm too young to be a mother. I don't want to have kids until I can hear my biological clock ticking. Literally. I can't stand babies that cry...poopie diapers...worrying about screwing it up. I don't know that I can handle the pain of labor. I'm too young to die in childbirth. I'm too young to live through the pain of childbirth.

First off, I want to say that in no way am I judging, condemning, or regarding your feelings of this serious matter as invalid. Pregnancy and children are both life-changing events. And even when planned they are scary. So, Clora, I completely understand (well, not completely. I'm a man, so I'll never completely understand.) your concern.

Second (should I do bullet points?), my opinion is based on being on "this side" of the road you could be crossing. Most people with children would agree that seeing both sides changes your perspective. Although it may seem that I am somewhat nonchalant about what you could be facing, I'm trying not to be. It just seems like less of a big deal when you've already been through it.

So here is what I think:

On the subject of being ready to have a baby... no one is ever ready to have a child. Few people would have a child if they were given an option to get ready. And those that think they are ready have no idea what they are getting ready for. Renee and I were going to try, but the test was positive before we got the chance. Even though the idea of having a baby was there, Renee still freaked out when she saw the double lines (who me? Oh, I was fine... no... really). She was crying, telling me she wasn't ready for this, scared of handling the pain of labor and just plain scared of the responsibility of having a baby.

On the subject of crying and poopie butts... when it's your child, these things aren't annoying and unattached to emotion. It's your baby! Crying will only motivate you, because you want to comfort them. And poop will be the highlight of discussion at the Clairvoyent home. Every person I know that has a child will gladly discuss poop's consistency, color and frequency at the drop of a hat.

On the subject of worrying about screwing it up... well, that never goes away. The guilt of not doing something right sticks to you like tar and feathers. You'll always wonder if you did something right. And if someone sees you do anything with your child, you'll wonder if they think you did the right thing too.

So, Clora, whatever happens, you'll always have my support (if it's worth anything you). And my belief that you will be just fine, with or without a baby in nine months.

Eating Popcorn And Watching Baby Einstein

2005-12-29T19:27:00.000-08:00

Does it get any better than this?

Merry Christmas

2005-12-26T19:01:00.000-08:00

We wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

The Broom

2005-12-22T10:29:00.000-08:00

Just call me the lurker. I've been spending the last month enjoying myself by cruising the blog "strip". Along with my usual reads (of which, I'm a self-described "groupie"), I've discovered quite a few interesting blogs. I think it's pretty interesting when you consider the whole "six-degrees-of-separation" in the blogosphere. Did you know you can go from a parent talking about his child in one blog (me), to a very graphic (including pictures) blog in 6 links or less? Las Vegas may truly be the best location for "Bloggercon." Where else could you mimic such "degrees of separation" than going from Circus Circus to the Bunny Ranch?

As I continue to receive comments and e-mails from readers, I know I need to get this post "a movin'" with what you actually come her for, Dane. This young boy has continued to astound me. Need an example? I just happen to have one right here:

Dane is at the age where he watches Mommy and Daddy, and mimics their behavior (this has been very scary to say the least). Lately, he wants to use a small hand broom to sweep the floor like Mommy. He walks into the spare bathroom and points at the broom. We give it to him and he sweeps the floor (finally what I've been waiting for... someone to get the chores done around here). Last week, he points to the where the broom should be and it isn't there. So both of us walk around looking for it (Really! He squats down and looks under the sofa or his bed). I didn't see it anywhere (yes, I was "man" looking), so we go back into the kitchen. Dane says something like, "bobla de tha gu." I tell him I don't know where the broom is. He says the same thing to me. It's obvious what he is saying has real meaning to him. He walks out of the kitchen and Renee says, "wouldn't it be funny if he walked in with the broom?" We both laughed. We hear Dane coming back into the kitchen. We both look and do you know what he had in his hand? Yes... the broom! Now when something goes missing, I just ask him to find it.

I'm so proud of our son! I'm so proud to be in this family!

Poor Santa

2005-11-27T16:30:00.000-08:00

Dane's annual picture with Santa was taken this weekend. Last year, he had no understanding of separation anxiety/terror. This year, he understood quite well... we were leaving him with Santa forever. Despite our dancing, faces, balloons and noise making toys, he would not smile for the camera. In fact, you'll notice he is pointing at us while he begged and pleaded for us not to leave him behind. Finally, Renee insisted they take the picture and we rescue him.

Thank You To Our Veterans

2005-11-11T06:12:00.000-08:00

I think we should all be thankful for the soldiers of our country, past and present. They have served and continue to serve as the defenders of our freedoms. Regardless of your opinion regarding any war, it takes a very special human being to serve in our armed forces during combat.

HUA!

Hunting

2005-11-08T07:13:00.000-08:00

It's that wonderful time of the year for hunting. It's really a wonderful experience that I've rediscovered with my Dad. Before last year, hunting wasn't for me. My Dad and I had gone out many times when I was an child, then once or twice as an adolescent, and then again after I had exited the military. I just didn't have the desire to hunt (Sidenote: Part of the reason was that I had a really bad experience one year with him. I shot a deer, but it didn't go down. It was suffering and I kept shooting hoping it would die. It kept struggling to get away, until finally I hit it where I should have and it died. After that experience, I was afraid of it happening again.).

Last year, Dad and I went hunting together again and it was a great time. It seemed less focused on killing a deer and more on our time together. We would get up at 4:30am, drink a cup of coffee and talk. Then we would get our hunting gear together, get in the truck and head out. The mornings were crisp and cold with a slight wind that always seemed to be blowing in my face. He would drop me off at the make-shift tree stand (a ladder against a tree with a huge low branch) over-looking an open field.

"I'll be behind you on the tree," he would whisper.

There I would sit, listening to the dried leaves tapping against each other in the trees. As the sun would begin to rise, the field before me would become more clear. It seemed like every morning I would think, "nothing moving this morning." Then as I sat staring out onto the field, shapes would begin to stand out against the back ground. It seemed as though there were deer everywhere. My heart would race. I waited a while longer, mostly to let a few deer get into an area where the shot would be good and the kill would be clean. Every deer I shot last year (six of them), was clean. One bullet fired, a startled jump, attempt to run and drop. After waiting a few minutes, I would climb out of my perch. My Dad would here my climbing down and start walking my way. When he would get close, he would say, with a knowing smile, "Did you get one?"

"Yeah," I would say back to him.

He would tell me to wait to field dress the deer (this was back when he weighed close to 350lbs. and couldn't kneel very well) back at the shed so he could help. I told him I could do it (I even cleaned the deer he shot). So we would just talk as I cleaned the deer. That was the good part (Tough to imagine it to be good? Hands covered in blood and guts? A good time? You bet!) Seeing it now, I know it's more of the process and journey, than actually killing something.

This year my Mom told, "Your Dad is so excited about you coming up to hunt again this year!" I'm a little worried about my shoulder taking the punch of a .30-06, but I'll do what I can to pad it the best I can. I don't want to miss this time with him. Especially after what has happened in the last year.

I look forward to the time when Dane and I can head out into the Missouri wilderness, too (I already bought him a little .22). Or better yet, all three of us out there. But I especially want to make hunting a part of our life together.

Happy Halloween

2005-10-31T09:21:00.000-08:00

Dane and the family went out on our first Halloween trick-or-treat at the St. Louis Zoo (Note to anyone who has not experienced this: It's about a million kids standing in long lines to get candy. Since Dane can't eat most of it, we decided to just walk around the zoo). Dane was our little monkey. He walked around most of the time, but when he started getting tired, we would get him in his wagon.

After the zoo, we went home for a nap and then met up with a good friend of ours Kristy. This was the first time she had a chance to meet Dane and she loved him. She took some family pictures (we never get any of all of us together) of us.

Tonight, our neighbor will take us (all the kids on the street) out on a little hay ride. It should be rainy, cold and FUN!

Type With Both Hands...

2005-10-27T09:52:00.000-07:00

As long as I prop my arm up on the desk, I can use my right hand. Although my typing skills aren't much better with two hands, it does go a little faster. Today has been the best so far with regard to my shoulder. My range of motion continues to get better and better. Sometimes it's difficult to determine what actually hurts, the incisions or the joint.

After the first couple of days, I was doing fine. The vicodin prescription was 1-2 tablets every 4 hours as needed. Well, let me tell you, it was needed. Two tablets took care of the pain really well, and as long as I ate a little something with it, I didn't feel drunk (that happened a few times... although not unpleasant, I still didn't want to feel drugged). I tried to go down to one on Saturday night and that didn't even touch it. I started to get a little concerned about the amount that was prescribed to me. I had 60 pills, 2 every 4 hours would not get me to Wednesday (day 6) when I had my follow up appointment.

On Monday morning, I contacted the doctor's office and left messages for his assistant (the nurse that was very forth coming with information). At 3:00pm, I still had not received a return call. I contacted the office a couple of times, continuing to get the run around. I finally called and told them I wanted to speak to someone instead of leaving a message. A resident doctor got on the phone and asked me how she could help (at this point, I feel like anything I say will make me sound like a narcotics fiend). I informed her of my concern and requested some options since I did not have a refill. She asked me, "how many tablets are you taking a day?" I told her 2 every 4 hours, which was 12. She said, "Oh, well, you aren't supposed to take more than 8 a day." I told her that nowhere on the bottle did it inform me of that. I told her that I would have enough until Wednesday if I took them at that rate. I was still concerned, but thought that as long as I could take 2 at night, I would be okay. During the day, the ice pack would take care of the pain.

On Wednesday, I went into see the doctor. After waiting an hour, I was seen by another resident doctor. I told him about the pain medication and he said, "That's ridiculous. You take them as you need to. We will get you a refill." I told him I did not want to become dependent on them and he informed me that they were watching out for that. The doctor came in. At the time, I had a million questions for him. He took my arm out of the sling and start rotating it outwardly. It felt like he was tearing the meat right off of my shoulder (funny sidenote: While the doctor was causing this pain, I said, "It feels like your boning a chicken." He laughed and said, "Do you mind clarifying that for me?" I laugh, even in my pain it was hilarious. I said, "I meant tearing the meat off of a chicken bone." Everyone in the room laughed. He laughed again and said, "I'm glad you cleared that up for me."). Afterwards, he leaned back, sighed and said, "Okay. Have your wife do that a couple of times a day for you. Any questions?" Anything I had thought of before my appointment had completely escaped me, following the pain leaving my body. "No." Then he told me he would see me in 5 weeks. They took out the stitches, put on steri-strips, handed me another prescription for my vicodin and told me to make an appointment for the 5 week follow up.

So, of course, I have all of these questions to ask. I have put in calls to the nurse, with no response. However, my shoulder is doing better every day.

Typing Single Handed

2005-10-25T09:06:00.000-07:00

My surgery on October 13th went smoothly. It started at 7:30am, but I had to arrive at the surgery center at 6:00am. With nothing in my belly and a horrible caffeine headache, I got naked. The nurse tied me up in the back and had nice warm blankets for me get cozy. The anesthesiologist started an IV and talked me through what I would be experiencing. The most uncomfortable part would be the nerve block of my right arm. This process is interesting because the needle the is giving the injection also sends pulses of electricity. Based on how my arm jumps to each pulse tells them if they have the right nerve. The sedative took care of any pain of them digging around for the right area, however, the pulses were pretty strong and painful.

Once my arm was completely absent of feeling they wheeled me into the operating room. I was a little nervous about being put under. The anesthesiologist placed the mask over my face and said, "take four deep breaths." I took them and wondered to myself, "should I continue breathing deep or should I breath regularly"... Then I woke up in the recovery room.

I asked the nurse, "what time is it?" She told me 9:30am. I shaking from the anesthesia, so she gave me a shot of Demerol. I was feeling pretty good and if it was normal for me to be this alert. She responded, "Some people are, but you probably remember talking to me." (HA... I remember!) Asked if I could see my arm. I don't know what I expected to see, but I couldn't feel anything. Maybe I just wanted to see that it was there. It was already in the sling, no feeling what-so-ever. I could have had someone else's arm attached to me.

I had to go to the bathroom. I was wheeled to the bathroom and walked in myself. It was pretty odd that I was so unsteady. Not dizzy, but weak, like I was an old man. They put me in a chair (the recliner on wheels) and wheeled me back to my recovery room. Renee came in and greeted me with a kiss. She commented on how clear I seemed to be.

We waited for me to be discharged. The nurse discovered that my "pain pump 2000" (a catheter pumps a lidocaine-type fluid directly on the joint) had leaked. So they tried to refill it, but it leaked out again. They decided that I would be okay without it, so they pulled the catheter. They assured me I would be fine with the pain pills.

We left the hospital and headed to the pharmacy. I was doing great, but once we arrived there, the Demerol started to wear off. I was getting shaky. We left after the prescription was filled and went about 5 miles and I told Renee to pull over, I was getting sick. She crossed 3 lanes of traffic as I started to open the door to get out and puke. I quickly realized that I wasn't getting sick, but I was going to pass out. I stayed in the car, leaned the seat all the way back and put my feet on the dash board. Breathing quick and shallow, I started to clear. I told Renee, "just to get me home."

We made it home and I laid down on the recliner, took two Vicodin and lapsed into zombie land. I stayed on top of the pain pretty well. I watched movies, ate very little and continued to take my pain pills. After the second day, I was feeling much better, still sore, but better.

More tomorrow (or tonight). This is enough to read for now.

Away

2005-10-03T14:45:00.000-07:00

My boy is far away,
For too long of a stay.
I miss him very much,
When we are out of touch.

I'm not hungry enough to eat,
Or even give myself a treat.
I'll get to see him again tomorrow night,
But life without him just isn't right.

I thought I'd enjoy the time alone,
Until I heard him over the phone.
Just his laugh makes me miss him,
Begging to put him on so I can listen.

I hope he is missing me too,
And when he sees me he'll start to coo.
He'll laugh and giggle and give a "big hug,"
To me, his Dad, that's proud of his little bud.

Right Shoulder Arthroscopic Rotator Cuff Repair With Possible Biceps Tenodesis

2005-09-26T19:17:00.000-07:00

That's the name of the procedure that I will be undergoing in a couple of weeks. But let me back up and tell you how we got there.

Let's start at 8:30am. I was very early to my Orthopedic appointment, but the good Doctor brought me in anyway. He looked at my MRI, took some notes about what happened and basically told me that there was no reason I should be trying to lift that much weight. "You're too small to be lifting that much weight," he remarked. I wanted to say, "Too small? That's why I'm trying to lift that much weight... so I won't be too small." However, I held my tongue because he's right. What the hell is a 37 year old man doing trying to get bigger and lift more weight than his old joints can bare? It's my idea of what my body should look like that needs to change, not my body. And here I've damaged it pretty good. Well, I guess I've forced myself into a change now, huh?

Um... sorry I got off track... So the doctor tells me that he doesn't do arthroscopic surgery and he really doesn't want to make incision through my tattoos (he actually recognized the Northwest Coast Art). He informs me he's going to refer me to someone who is an expert in arthroscopic surgery. After 30 minutes of phone calls (can you believe the amount of work a doctor put into that?), he tells me to get downtown as soon as I can. This new Orthopedic Surgeon is going to see when I get there, because he deemed this an "acute" case. Otherwise, I would not have been seen until November.

I make my way downtown, fill out the paperwork and wait. He receptionist calls on me after an hour and asks me to go across the hall for x-rays. After that, I wait again. At noon, they call me in. The doctor is very nice and even has good social skills. However, he sucks at explaining, to a person who has never had surgery, what exactly he is going to do and why. So as I ask questions about the "biceps tenodesis" and get the response of, "just believe me it's better that we do it this way," I can't help but feel scared. Luckily, the nurse came in to schedule the surgery and explained to me what was going to happen.

So what does it mean for me? Six weeks of my arm in a sling. No working out and even after that, no heavy lifting. Probably pain, but I can handle it. The part that worries me: not being able to sleep because I can't get my shoulder in a comfortable position. Well, that and the other stuff like, possible nerve damage or any other number of bad things that can happen to you in surgery. I won't be able to lift my son and hold him without hurting for a while. I'm just overall scared that I'll be worse after the surgery.

Stress

2005-09-23T07:45:00.000-07:00

I want to start be saying that having problems like mine are good problems to have. I keep telling myself, just as a reminder that it isn't that bad. However, the feelings some of these events conjure up are nasty and gut wrenching (such as the purchasing the lot). This is the problem with stress, it can be caused when good things happen too.

Some good things that have happened in the last month:
1. Purchased the property that I'm going to build my home on;
2. My son's birthday;
3. My anniversary;
4. My birthday;
5. My wife's birthday
6. My father's recovery from surgery; and
7. My son taking his first steps.

Some not-so-good things that have happened to me in last month:
1. My father's heart surgery;
2. The contractor nickel and diming us on the property on the day of closing;
3. Poison ivy;
4. Prednisolone;
5. Three of my team of 10 have left;
6. Two more leaving next week;
7. Increased demand on all of my employees, which means increased demand on their supervisor; and
8. Blueprints that are in production and scheduled to be done at the end of this month.

There are more but I would rather not bore you. As you can see, even the no-so-good things are that bad. I have stress from my job, but I have a job (pay is great, benefits are great, etc.). So I know I shouldn't complain.

I wrote that post last Friday.

To add injury (literally) to insult, I offer the following.

On Monday, I was working out and decided that I was going to max out on bench press. I warmed up. Started with 135lbs., then 225 lbs. and then 275 lbs. It was just going up too easy. I wanted to hit 315lbs. So I called Renee down to spot me. I lowered the bar (even as I lowered it I thought, "no problem") and as I pushed... this wonderful "skrunch" sound comes from my shoulder. Renee says, "Are you going to lift this?" I tell her I can't and that I think I hurt my shoulder pretty bad. She says, "well, I can't lift this off of you." So I push through it and she pulls. My shoulder feels weird and, as I move it, I feel little stuff moving around in there. I can't lift my arm over my head without extreme pain. Bad sign!

I go to the Doctor on Tuesday. He says that it could be a labrum tear and that I have anterior subluxation (dislocation) of the humeral head. He lifts my arm (don't worry it didn't hurt... only when I lift my arm is when it hurts) and moves it back into place. When he lowers it, the shoulder moves back out. Bad sign! He orders an MRI.

I have an MRI of my shoulder the next day (Wednesday). It was a pretty interesting experience. The sound of the MRI was soothing and I would almost fall asleep. After an hour and half, they were done. (FYI: If you are claustrophobic... you will freak out in one of these machines... but to me it was very relaxing.)

Yesterday, I received the results from my Doctor. They are as follows:

"There is a large full-thickness tear of the supraspinatus tendon."

Great. Just f'ing great.

However, the good news is that it isn't a labrum tear.

Monday, I see an orthopedic surgeon to find out what we need to do.

Precious Toddler Dane

2005-09-08T08:13:00.000-07:00

Yes, my son has hit the ripe old age of 1. We can no longer call him Baby Dane (although he will always be my baby). He has earned his right to be called a toddler. We had his birthday party on Saturday. Lots of family and friends showed up and Dane made out like a bandit.

The best part was the cake eating. Dane has not had anything like that before and I was a little worried about how his body would react to all the sugars. He started by shoving the cake into his mouth like all kids do, but he stopped, licked it with his tongue and giggled the whole time. He finally started to push more into his mouth, until it was full, chew and shovel more in. 30 minutes later he was wiped out and took a nap while everyone said their goodbyes.

One of his presents was this "big wheel" (I don't know what else to call it). He can't reach the pedals but he loves to ride on it and be pulled around. He presses the buttons (vrrooom vrrooom). I pull him one way and powerslide (errrrrt) to the side. He giggles and laughs! He also received books and an abundance of annoying-noise making toys (luckily they have on/off switches). His favorite seems to a truck and ball he received from Darla (a friend of ours who is a nanny.. she would know what he wants). All in all, it was a good day.

Darla and Kevin (Peanut) stayed the night and after Dane went to bed, we drank margaritas and watched Spongebob Squarepants The Movie. Well... they did, I feel asleep in the recliner. That thing always puts me to sleep during movies.

Out Of The Loop

2005-09-08T00:57:00.000-07:00

Been awhile, eh? The last couple of weeks have been pretty eventful. I'm not about to squeeze everything on one post, so it may take several to get everyone up to speed. So let's get started...

First question you may have is why am I up at 3am? Two weekends ago, I was helping my Dad out on the farm. After his surgery, he can't do as much and he need to get the cows out to another pasture. He also has crops in the field so we (I) had to put up some electric fence and clean up around the fences that were already up (FYI: electric fences don't work if there are weeds, vines, small trees, etc., growing around them because if they touch the wire it grounds the fence and big moo-moos have no incentive to stay away).

Putting up he new fence wasn't bad. Before Dad's surgery, he had brush-hogged a lane through the woods. I just drove steel posts, put up the wire and stretched it. Of course, nothing was grounding out the wire, because I put up the fence where the wasn't anything to touch it. So, again, that was the easy part.

Next came walking the fence line and removing any brush grounding the wire. I would like to take some time here and mention that it was about 96 degrees those two days. And, where the fence I put up was in the woods, the fence line that was already up was in the wide open spaces, along gravel roads, that placed me into the path of the ever relentless sun. So, walking along the fence with my Dad driving the truck (he wasn't even supposed to be doing that yet, but he felt guilty that I was working and he wasn't), pruning shears in one hand and a dull corn knife (a butter knife would have been sharper and more effective) in the other, I wacked, cut and beat into submission, all of the undergrowth.

Did I mention that part of that undergrowth included poison ivy? Wack, cut and beat the undergrowth may have been, but the poison ivy was not giving up without a fight (although I didn't know how good of a fight it as putting up until a couple of days later). My sweet concerned Dad would say (after I was up to my neck in it), "look out son... that's poison ivy there." Now, I had long pants on, a t-shirt and gloves. I thought I was pretty safe. And besides, I haven't had poison ivy since I was a kid and I've camped, hiked, etc., so I thought there may be a chance that it wouldn't effect me if it did come into contact with my skin.

Well, to make a long story long, I had poison ivy and bug bites. The poison ivy was so bad that I would wake up scratching. It spread from my arms to my hands. I thought that after a week it would go away, but last weekend it was so bad I couldn't stand it. Tuesday, I went to the doctor. He gave me a shot of and prescription for prednisolone. Hence, no sleep ('til {guitar riff} Brooklyn) last night or tonight. I awoke from my blissful slumber Tuesday night at 3:30am and fell back to sleep at 5:00am. Tonight, I am WIDE awake!

Good news...my poison ivy isn't bothering me at all.

Elevations

2005-09-03T05:36:00.000-07:00

A lot has been going on, so I haven't had a lot of time to blog. And today we're having Dane's First Birthday Party, so you're not going to get a whole lot out of me today either. However, I wanted post the pictures of what our house is going to look like. I'm extremely excited about these drawings! It makes it more real then just a floor plan.

Front View

Left Side View

Rear View

Right Side View

So what do you think?

House Plans

2005-08-22T19:03:00.000-07:00

Here are the house plans from the architect. We have waited almost 3 months for them. We are very happy with he plans, but they could have tried to finish them a little quicker. We brought our plans (the ones I showed before) to them, so it's not like they had to start from scratch.

Now that we have them, feel free to peruse and tell me what you think.

Can I Still Be A Man?

2005-08-19T10:34:00.000-07:00

If I go from a Dodge Ram 1500 with a Hemi to a Ford Focus, is there any way I can retain my masculinity?

"I'm Out With Your Mom Checking On The Cows."

2005-08-19T09:02:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I haven't provided the final chapter of my father's saga. In Recovery, he was still on a ventilator. It was a rough night for me thinking about what my Dad would be going through (i.e. trying to breathe, choking, not being able to communicate, etc.), and it was difficult to sleep.

The next morning I was eager to get to the hospital. Visiting hours don't start until 10:30am, so I had too much time to sit and wait after waking at 7:00am. By the time I got into the ICU, I was a nervous wreck. I wondered if he would look worse or if he was off the ventilator. When I saw him he was sitting up with a big mug of water in his hand. His voice was scratchy and he told me he felt so much better without that tube in his throat. He kept drinking water saying, "This water just tastes so good and feels great on my throat." Curious, I asked what he remembered. He told me he remember my Mom and me being there last night, but it was fuzzy. We sat and talked for about 3 hours and I had to go to work. I told him I would see him on Saturday.

Renee and Dane came up with me on Saturday. He looked much better that morning, but by the time he went to the Step-down Unit, the whole thing seemed to be wearing him down. I was getting worried that sending him home after 5 days was going to happen, but he wouldn't be ready. Physically he seemed to be doing better, but psychologically he just wasn't there yet. He told me, "I didn't think it would be this bad." Although exhausted, sleep fo him was difficult with all the light and activity on the unit. When I left Saturday night, I was hopeful he would get some rest.

Sunday morning, he was a different man. His chest tube was out, he had been up walking around, he shaved, brushed his teeth and, overall, in a much better frame of mind. He told me that just being able move around and take care of himself, put him in a much better mood. That afternoon, Renee brought Dane to the waiting room and my Dad walked out to see him (Dane couldn't go onto the Step-down Unit... baby germs). Both were excited to see each other, although Dad couldn't hold him, we all sat and watched Dane play. After 30 minutes, Dad was wiped out. We took him back to the unit and he laid down. We left after that to get Dane home.

He was released Monday and my Mom took him home. I think Dad was excited to be out of that hospital and in his own home. He was doing better that day and even Mom was okay with him returning home.

I called his house on Tuesday. No answer. I called Mom cell phone. She answered and asked if I wanted to talk to my Dad. I asked him what he was doing and he said, "I'm out with your Mom checking on the cows." He didn't even sound like he had surgery six day ago, much less, open heart surgery. He said he tired out easily, but he was doing great!

I plan on seeing him this weekend. It'll be exciting to see how far he has come in a week.

Recovery

2005-08-11T19:28:00.000-07:00

We didn't talk to the doctor until 3:15pm. Yesterday, they told us it would be done by 1:00pm. The waiting was beginning to become agonizing. And then hearing other people talk in the waiting room ("there trying to see if there is any brain function... and then we'll decide what to do") made it worse. The doctor with all his bedside-manner spoke very flat and gave the facts: He did 4 bypasses instead of 3, there was some damage to the heart when he had the heart attack, his blood pressure dropped very low several times (but his heart never stopped beating), his breathing tube was still in and (unfortunately) based on what he saw, he will probably have to have another one in the future. They were settling him into ICU, so it would be an hour before we could see him.

When we went into the room, I was worried I would break down, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. He was a little swollen, and had tons of gadget, tubes and everything else plugging in or coming out of him. He opened his eyes and looked at us. He wanted to talk, but couldn't. We told him he looked great (and he did, when you consider they just made an incision in his chest and cracked him open like an egg) and we loved him. He pointed at his chest and looked at the ICU nurse. He said, "you need some pain medication?" My Dad nodded "yes." They gave it to him pretty quickly, but they also had to clean out his breathing tube. He started coughing (which isn't really coughing because the tube is in the way) and they had to suction. It was horrible to watch him go through that. Then the pain medication kicked in and he was out.

I stayed with him until about 8:15pm, while he slept. He would wake up every once in a while and see me. I would smile, he would wink and then fall back to sleep. When I told him I was leaving, he opened his eyes. I said I would be back in the morning and to get some rest. I told him I loved him and I could see him trying to mouth the words back to me. I said, "I know you love me, too" and he nodded. I told him I would see him in the morning. I kept it together (actually, until now) and the nurse said he would be much more interesting tomorrow with that tube out. I smiled and headed out.

Surgery

2005-08-11T07:30:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting in the waiting room. My Dad went into surgery at 7:00am. The nurses tell us that it actually won’t start until about 9:00am. It’s 9:04am. So he has been going through a lot on his own. How much he is aware of what is happening right now is questionable. They gave him a shot of morphine before he left us at 7:00am. I’m hopeful that the drugs are intoxicating him, so that he doesn’t feel alone or worried.

The surgeon told us that things look great (although at the end slipped in, “there is a 5% chance you won’t make it…” Sounds great, unless you are one of the 5%). He doesn’t smoke or drink and he’s much healthier (lost another 5 pounds over the last week). He’ll be in the hospital for 5-7 days, and then back home for 6-8 weeks of recovery. I think he’ll recover fine, although I don’t want him to push it (I know he’ll try) and do too much because he wants to get better.

So I sit here waiting the end of surgery. The hospital assigns you a pager. They page you once they’re about finished. You meet the surgeon, he tells you “ever thing went great” and then you go to ICU. That, I fear, is where I’ll break. I don’t think I will be able to keep it together when I see him there.

Note to John: Do surgeons have personalities? He seemed a little PDD. However, we aren’t paying him for his bedside manner, but for his excellent ability to cut, sew and keep all the right parts in all the right places.

Top Secret Story

2005-08-10T07:26:00.000-07:00

Some of you know this, most don’t. I am the proud owner of a 1985 Jeep CJ7. It has a 6-inch lift and 33 inch tires. Renee and I love it! B.D. (Before Dane), we did went Jeepin’ all the time, even while Renee was pregnant (What’s Jeepin’? Driving around with friends in their Jeeps and looking for cool stuff to drive up or over. We have done some pretty amazing things with this Jeep!). Unfortunately, A.D., we haven’t been able to go out in it with Dane, because of no rear seat belt. But we’re working on that.

So imagine if you will: Jacked up Jeep; Man driving covered in tattoos; and Woman in passenger seat, pregnant with cute, tight little tank top. “White trash” and “Cooter” aren’t the right words, but they’re the first words that come to mind. As if this isn’t enough, the following story will top it off.

We are heading home in the Jeep (as imagined above), and we are pulling up to a stoplight. The person behind me doesn’t like that I have slowed down so early, so they are riding pretty close to me (close enough that it looks like they could touch my spare tire with the front their truck). I pull up to the stoplight and they turn right. The woman driving starts yelling something about my driving, but I couldn’t hear it because Renee screamed, “SHUT UP BITCH BEFORE I CLIMB DOWN AND KICK YOUR ASS!”

Isn’t my wife the best?!

My Friend John

2005-08-09T07:16:00.000-07:00

A person that works for me is leaving, to go to medical school in the Caribbean. He’ll make a fine doctor! I have no doubt. Even though I am his direct supervisor, I consider him a friend (I consider everyone on my team a friend). He reminds me of my childhood friend, Brad. If you were to put these two people side-by-side, you would think I was crazy. They look nothing alike, but their mannerisms are identical. So close it’s scary! I’m sure this pseudo-familiarity has made it much easier to be close friends. I haven’t told him about this, but he reads my blog (he is link at the left), so he’ll find out shortly.

It’s difficult to supervise a person you genuinely like, especially when they aren’t the most ideal employee (you know it’s true, John). He’s late to meetings, late turning in paperwork and late… well, on everything. To his credit, whenever I asked for something specific to get done, it was the next thing on my desk. As a clinician, he’s great! And it’s always a treat to have clinical discussions with him in supervision. He has a propensity to label personality disorders on difficult people, in general. He consistently looks at people through the dysfunctional-family lens. It’s funny to hear him say, “Her Daddy must not have paid enough attention to her when she was a little girl.” I love listening to his sweeping generalization (as long as they don’t include me… hehe). I understand that his view is more specific then the words he uses, so I don’t freak out when he generalizes.

I’ll be reading his blog (and invite you to do the same) as he chronicles his journey through medical school. Good luck John!

Dad

2005-08-08T07:30:00.000-07:00

My Father’s surgery is quickly approaching, as my dread of the operation increases. I have been finding myself reminiscing. Seeing my Dad through many different eyes: a child, where he can do no wrong; an adolescent, where he “made me” work when I didn't want to; an early adult, where I was indifferent, but thought he could have tried harder; and finally as a mature adult (is that what you call late 30s?), where I have more of an understanding of life’s difficulties and a greater respect for him. My memories of growing up as his son weren’t always the best, but it’s that understanding that has brought me closer to him. I know my Dad made mistakes. I know he made some big mistakes. But I also know he’s human and did the best he could.

Fast forward from my childhood to Dane’s infancy. I have to imagine that my Dad had the same thoughts about me as I have about Dane.

“He’s the best son ever!”
“I’m so proud of him!”
“I’ll do everything I can to be there for him.”
“I’ll show him all the pitfalls to avoid so he won’t have to go through what I went through.”

All of these things said with the thought that I am going to make my son perfect, by being a perfect father. Not knowing that all the mistakes I have made up until now, will affect my son’s up bringing. And ignoring, completely, the fact that I am not perfect.

Little Bit O' Feel Good

2005-08-07T07:37:00.000-07:00

John and I decide to go to a bar and hang out last night. Just a couple of guys, having a couple of beers and a couple of laughs. I learned a lot more about John (didn't know you were in a band [the one that was playing at the bar] and played guitar John), while we pointed and laughed at the passers-by. I enjoy watching people, their quirky behavior, their primping when they think no one is looking. It's great!

I make eye contact with a very pretty girl. She could be Jessica Alba's twin sister (I'm not kidding, ask John). She's with a guy, I'm married, who cares. The guy she is with is touching her leg and she has her hand on his arm, but she looks as if she wants to be with her friends (the other four girls at the table), and her boyfriend came along. I asked John what he thought and he agreed. She was definitely giving off the if-I-ignore-you-maybe-you'll-go-away signal. We made eye contact again, and I smiled. She held eye contact for a while, then looked into the crowd. I thought this was pretty interesting so I kept watching. She continued to glance my way. Then her boyfriend caught her and looked in my direction. I made eye contact with him and he turned back toward her.

John and I continue to watch the crowd and talk. People are dancing. I want to dance, but I don't. I hate when women dance on the dancefloor and guys get-up-on-em to dance. I usually ask and I didn't feel like asking so... there you go. Anyway, this girl gets up to go to the bathroom. As she walks by, when she gets close, she makes eye contact with me until she passes.

John and I get another beer and we're watching people on the dance floor. The girl and her friends (without boyfriend) get on the dance floor right in front of us. She's making eye contact a lot while she dances. Not stares, just glances (it's not like she is seductively dancing for me). The band gets back on the stage, so they retreat to their table.

So, the Ultimate Fighting Championship is on one of the TVs and I stop people watching to see the fights (good thing to have on at a bar, huh?). I'm pointing at the screen and telling John something and up walks the girl. She glances at me, looks down and starts to walk past with her friend. I stop talking while I watch her go by and she looks up and stares me in the eye. She stares at me as she walks by. Even as she is past me, her head is turned back, staring at me. I start to smile, she turns back to her friend and she is off. John bumped me with an elbow and we start to laugh.

Shortly after that, John and I call it a night and head home.

It was a nice little ego boost for the man about to turn 37.

5 pound 14 ounces

2005-08-05T19:38:00.000-07:00

Lest ye forget how far Dane has come....

Numba 1000

2005-08-04T19:51:00.000-07:00

I don’t know who it was that became my 1000th visitor. But it was referred from Foilwoman’s site so… I’ll thank her. Thanks Foilwoman for referring all those people to my website.

Back a-cha!

Work, Home And The Rest Of The World

2005-08-03T19:36:00.000-07:00

No, really… I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. I’m here, doing my work and getting things done. I’ve had a lot to do. Not to mention the stress from work making me want to curl up in a fetal position and suck my thumb. When I get this overwhelmed by work stuff, any down time I get I want to stare at the TV and just not think. I want to be blank and void of thought. To avoid this, I have been working out, hard, 4 of the 5 weekdays. It helps me mentally with my frustrations and gives me a physical outlet. So blogging gets further down on my list of things to do. Oh precious reader, do not feel slighted, you are ever present in my thoughts.

So what is happening?

Dane is wonderful! He continues to make advances. He spends more time standing, leaning and going from one stationary object to the next. “Dada” is said more often than not and, try as I might, he doesn’t mimic, “MaMa.” I still don’t know how I was blessed with such a wonderful child.

Renee is doing great and working more than I would like, but we want this new home (see below). So one day more a week was sacrificed. This also means one more day at the babysitters, which I really want to avoid.

Our Pastor is leaving our church and going to a bigger church (promotion?). We are in a state of worry about who will show up next. He was such a great person for our church. Very contemporary! We wish him the very best, but we all want to be selfish and tell him not to go.

Home life is moving forward… as in building a home. We have received the house plans drawn up by the architect and made some minor changes. The contractor is looking at breaking ground in September. We had wanted to break ground by the end of July. So it is really moving rather slowly, but at least we are seeing movement now. Here’s a small view of the first and second floor.

If we get a nice three-dimensional drawing, I’ll post it as well.

There you have it. Quick and dirty! Just like you like it (yes… I know I’m projecting).

Question from Innana

2005-07-28T12:36:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed my interview question from Foilwoman so much, I requested an interview from her very best friend in the whole wide world, Innana.

1. What are five practical things every human being should know how to do before she or he reach 18, and did you know them then?

This is such an excellent question:

1) First and foremost, you're potential is unlimited. You can do/be anything you want. Take risks. The one thing you want to do, but don't think you have the ability to do, is the one thing you need to do.

2) It all works out in the end. You may be scared to death about what happens next, but in the end, it will work out. Just be patient.

3) Network. Knowing people makes the world go 'round.

4) Love people for who they are, not for what you want them to become. We all make mistakes. We are all driven by our perspective of the world, which is usually vastly different from our own. Embrace that difference and learn from it.

5) Stick up for yourself. The regret of not doing so will hurt much more than any repercussion of defending yourself.

I didn't know any of these things. If I had, I would be very different. Some of them I 'm still learning.

2. If there were a soundtrack to your life, what composer/musician would write it (dead or living)?

Aaron Lewis from Staind.

3. How did you meet your wife, and how long did it take before you knew she was "the one"?

We were set up on a blind date in college in 1994. We went on 2 dates after that. The last date, while she was talking, I leaned in to kiss her. Bad timing all the way around. Just no sparks. So we became really good friends. We had many classes together. We went on double dates. I got married to an evil woman and she was in the second row at my wedding. We lost touch after that, because the evil ex-wife was jealous of our friendship (RED FLAG).

After about 2 years we ran into each at a place she worked. We hung out whenever I was in town. Still friends, but there was this part in both of us that was curious (I didn't know this until later). In September 2000, we were both single for the first time in a while and went on a trip together, with some other friend, to Hawaii. We were together the whole time, snuggled in the double bed we slept in. Never kissed, but it felt like something had changed. When we got back I was concerned that "what happened in Hawaii would stay in Hawaii." I called her to tell her I had gotten the pictures developed. The first thing she said was, "You asshole!!! I can't stop thinking about you!" I went to her apartment and we went out that night. It was the first time I had kissed her since 1994... and it was weird! I would open my eyes and... hey... you're my "friend" Renee... I'm not supposed to be kissing you. I got used to it pretty quick.

We dated for a year, before I asked her to marry me. There wasn't any specific time that I said, "this is the one!" It just kind of transitioned into that kind of relationship. I wrote a poem that ended with "will you marry me" and had it printed on a picture of us. I had it framed and took it to a park where we were going to have a picnic. I told her I had a poem I wrote for her and that I wanted to read it. I did and her response was, "uh, yeah..."

4. What Christmas present from your childhood do you remember the best, and why?

The Planet of the Apes Tree House for some reason has always stuck in my head. I don't know why, I just remember it well.

5. You can read one person's thoughts for 24 hours. Who would it be?

My wife, Renee.

Great questions!!!

Rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying 'interview me please'
2. I will respond by asking you five questions here on my blog (not the same questions you see here)
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions

Questions For Innana

2005-07-28T08:41:00.000-07:00

Innana requested an interview. So here they are:
1. What book had the most influence on you and your interpretation of the meaning of life?
2. What is the one piece of information you would give a teenager regarding their future?
3. How do you view Foilwoman's "Handyman" experience and, if in a similar situation, would you do the same?
4. If you owned your own business, what kind of qualities would you look for in a potential manager for your employees?
5. Have you ever been in a physical fight, and what was the outcome?

Enjoy... I'm eager to read your responses.

Rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying 'interview me please'
2. I will respond by asking you five questions here on my blog (not the same questions you see here)
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions

Foilwoman's Interview Questions

2005-07-26T20:31:00.000-07:00

I submitted a request to Foilwoman for interview questions. I was delighted and honored to see these questions posted on her blog. There are also rules that I have to follow:

1. Leave me a comment saying 'interview me please.'
2. I will respond by asking you five questions here on my blog (not the same questions you see here).
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Here are her question and my answers:

(1) How many children are you planning to have (or, more realistically, would you like to have)? Does Renee know?

I love children. When the idea of children came to mind, I used to say that I wanted 6 kids. While Renee and I were dating we discussed the topic of children. When I told her about my desires for a big family she just stared at me like I was crazy. I quickly came to the conclusion that although I may want a huge family, Renee had total and complete veto power. So I resigned myself to the fact that we would have 2-3 kids.

Now that we have a wonderful, beautiful baby boy and Renee loved being pregnant, she would like to have 6 children (if we could afford it and she could stay home with them). Unfortunately, I can't imagine having 6 children and have changed my mind to having a maximum of 3. I think that is more realistic and affordable. And yes... Renee knows.

(2) How did you choose the name Dane? Being half-Danish, I approve. But I want to hear the reasons.

This will sound so lame. There is a player on the St. Louis Rams named Dane Looker. When I heard that name, I liked and mentioned it to Renee. She liked it too. We had other names picked out, 2 boy names (Gavin and Dane) and 2 girl names (Marley and Kendal) (we didn't find out Dane's sex until the day he came out [I knew... can't explain how, but I knew]). Dane seemed to fit him perfectly.

(3) Your bio says you are a counselor. What sort of counselor, and how did you choose this career.

I'm a mental health counselor. I've worked as a team supervisor for adult services. I've worked as a director for an agency's crisis program. And now I'm working as a team supervisor for children's services. I prefer working with kids. Always have.

I chose counseling because I was good at it. I like the mystery of figuring people out and I can read people pretty well. It seems like a lot of people in my profession went into it to figure out themselves and they make horrible counselors. These folks usually think they know more about you than you do and often want to change you based on their screwed up past. ANYWAY... I enjoy helping people as long as they want to help themselves.

(4) Other than Dane, what's the best thing you've ever accomplished?

I was in the 82nd Airborne for 3 years as a medic (spending time in the middle east, but not during wartime). I completed graduate school with a 4.0 GPA. And I can bench press 315 lbs.

(5) What action that you have taken would you most like to undo?

I was jumped by two guys about 10 years ago. The first was trying to start a fight with me. The reason was ridiculous and I said, "You want fight because of THAT?!" I laughed and turned toward my car. I had two people with me, my girlfriend (at the time) and a guy I played volleyball with. It seemed so ludicrous, I didn't think anything of it (I was bigger than the guy... what was he going to do?).

I came to, trying to push myself up from the ground. My arms feeling like rubberbands, I heard my girlfriend say, "just stay down." Apparently, the one guy sucker punched me, while his buddy pushed me. The result was my head bouncing off of the pavement, splitting it open at my forehead and hairline. I also received a wonderful concussion (if you haven't experienced this... stand in place and spin around 20 times... the result is what you feel like all the time).

So what would I undo? 1) I would never have turned my back on him or his buddy. 2) If I would have known what was going to happened because I walked away, I would have beat the fuck out of him!!

As the rules dictate, here is the open invitation for interviews. Request away...

Thanks Foilwoman!

Dane Walks... Kinda...

2005-07-26T20:00:00.000-07:00

Here is my boy walking with a little assistance. He is absolutely the best!

Concerned Son

2005-07-20T14:09:00.000-07:00

Last week, my father informed me that on July 10th, he had a "minor" heart attack. He said that he had been brushhogging (i.e. cutting grass with tractor sized mower [in case you don't know what that is]) and felt a little short of breath. He stopped, went into the house to get some air and relax for a while. The pain started at 11am... He didn't leave for the hospital until 3pm (denial is the #1 symptom of a heart attack). After three days and many tests later, he was sent home with an appointment to go back to the hospital in August for triple by-pass surgery. Three clogged arteries in my father's heart and they send him home for 3 weeks before the operation (and no medications). Can you believe it?

I may be blogging more about this... or not. I just don't know what to think about it.

Yummy

2005-07-18T09:07:00.000-07:00

Daddy's dessert:
1 Hersey S'more Bar
1 Package of Swiss Cake Rolls
Bunny Tracks Ice Cream (Blue Bunny Ice Cream)
Hot Fudge
Reese's Hardshell Topping
Chocolate Syrup

Directions: Place s'more bar in bowl and microwave for 10 second. Add 2 swiss cake rolls to either side of s'more bar. Scoop in ice cream covering swiss cake rolls and s'more bar. Pour Reese's Hardshell over ice cream. Add hot fudge and chocolate syrup.

Warning: Without hot fudge and chocolate syrup, dessert may be bland in taste.

As You Can Hear...

2005-07-16T17:10:00.000-07:00

...my son says, "DaDa." I know it's more like, "didada," but it's close enough for me! He's been saying, "dadadada" more and more. Does he know it means me? Probably not... But I love hearing him say it!

A special thanks to Sandra (who isn't so evil) for giving me the html code, making it possible for you to hear it on my blog.

Daycare Dilemma, Part Deux

2005-07-15T13:19:00.000-07:00

Thank you all so much for the comments and suggestions. I think I received one that covered every angle. It has been very helpful and given me a sense of validity in the matter.

And now... the rest of the story.

Renee went to the babysitter's house yesterday (it was better that I didn't go with her... I was afraid of what I might say). She asked if the babysitter was doing okay about the surgery. The babysitter said she was fine and not concerned at all. Renee tried to be very concerned and matter of fact, but in the end she broke down. The babysitter kept asking what's wrong. Renee told her that she was very concerned about Dane and that the babysitter wasn't taking care of him. The babysitter said, "tell me your concerns, you have every right to tell me what I am doing wrong." So Renee unloaded on her about what has happened. The babysitter listened without interruption or defensiveness. At the end, she said, "you're right, there is no excuse for this happening." She told Renee that she would make sure that she stayed on top of it. She apologized very sincerely.

The babysitter said, "if you ever have a concern, if you ever want an answer or if you ever want me to do something different, please tell me. He is your baby and your life, and I will do whatever you request." Renee said that she felt that much better afterwards.

We are still looking into alternatives. I feel better about things now, but I'm going to have a plan B, if I have to pull him in one day.

Again... thank you all so much for caring consideration.

Daycare Dilemma

2005-07-14T07:02:00.000-07:00

I'm crazy! I'm upset! I'm pissed! That said, this post will sound pretty harsh, but the events are probably not as bad as I am going to make them sound. I would very much appreciate any comments, considerations and criticisms. So keep that in mind while you read my rant.

In the past, when I've picked up Dane, he's had a full diaper. When I get home, the first thing I do is change him. I've found, not all the time, that it looks like it's been there a while (i.e. drying poop that is stuck to his butt). Now, Dane is a happy baby. He doesn't cry when he has a dirty diaper. And his poop doesn't stink (literally or figuratively). So the cues that most infants display to their daycare provider, are not salient. At home, we check him frequently.

Monday, I dropped Dane off at 8:00am. At 2:00pm, Renee arrives to pick him up (The babysitter is playing with him on her lap, he is laughing and having fun). Dane has a full diaper (urine and feces) AND it's the same diaper he had on when he left our house (how do we know, you ask? The babysitter has the last of his size 2s, we only use size 3s at home. When Renee picked him up he still had on a size 3!). Renee confronted the babysitter about it. She apologized profusely, indicating that it would never happen again, and per Renee's instruction, she would check him hourly. Her only excuse was that she didn't think to check because he wasn't fussy (my thought is: WTF, do you honestly think that an infant isn't going to drop a load all freakin' day?!).

Sidenote #1: Did I mention that Dane had a wicked case of diaper rash last weekend? It was bad enough that when Renee put some cream on him, he shrieked in pain! She scooped him up and put him in the sink to cool the area and wash off the cream. We've been doing everything we can to dry him out. It's much better now. I am not sure if it is related to the babysitters lack of promptness when it comes to changing diapers, but I think it can, in the least, be correlated.

Sidenote #2: I also need to mention that the babysitter, over the last 3 weeks, had a blood test come back positive for ovarian cancer. She has informed us that her doctor thinks it is a false positive, but she is still going to have surgery to scrape or remove or whatever, the ovaries. This will occur within a week. Her daughter (who babysits for us on some weekends, and just adores Dane) is coming to our house to watch Dane during the surgery. So, I understand that her mind is a little preoccupied, but I do not except it as an excuse. If you can't manage taking care of my child during this time, then let us know (although she probably wouldn't do that, as they don't make very much money), we can find a temporary (or permanent) solution. My child comes first. Period. If he doesn't then I will find a place where he does come first!

Wednesday, Renee dropped off Dane at 11:30am. At 2:30pm, she picked him up. The babysitter's daughter was there watching the kids, because the babysitter had some additional tests that needed to be run before the surgery. The babysitter's daughter was holding Dane and playing with him. He was happy and having a great time. When Renee picked him up she noticed his diaper was full and again it was a size 3! She asked the daughter why he hadn't been changed and she said, "I don't know, I just got here from practice and my Mom left for the doctor's appointment." Furious, Renee called me and we started looking for alternatives.

Sidenote #3: This babysitter has an excellent reputation in our community and has received awards for being such an outstanding daycare provider. We researched her and spoke with other parents who have their children there. The only negative thing we heard was that she leaves the TV on all the time, for the kids to watch. They don't have to watch it and there are plenty of toys and interaction, but the TV is a mind numbing force to be reckoned with, it just draws those little toddlers in. Dane hates TV. You can sit him in front of one and he crawls away, looking for real activity. So the TV isn't a bad thing... yet. We have already discussed that once he is a little older (within a year) we are going to send him to a more education oriented place.

Renee and I talked last night. I started getting more worked up. And I am now to the point where I want to get the city involved, mail letters to the other parents about my concerns and cuss her out for not doing everything she can to make my baby boy's time on this earth the most pleasant experience possible! [deep breathing... relaxing... going to my happy place with Dane]

Okay, I know that is extreme. I know that we need to sit down and talk to her about our concerns. But two things are eating at me:
1) Talking to her could create a hostile environment for Dane. I certainly don't think there would be a retaliation directly on Dane, but passive aggression can be as bad as directly neglecting his needs.
2) Where do you draw the line? For me it's right now, but I am completely incensed about it. What do we do if it happens again? Do I trust her with any information she gives me now? Is she even watching him? Is she turning duties over to her daughter? Is there enough supervision to ensure the safety of my child from the other children, considering she can't remember to change a freakin' diaper on an infant? If she is cutting corners on that, where else is she doing it? Is there anything else that we aren't being privy to? Now, when there is any different behavior from Dane, I'm going to be thinking, "Did she drop him on his head? Did some other child in her home abuse him?" I could drive myself crazy with my hand-wringing.

I have to add that as far we know, Dane loves it there. He smiles and reaches for the babysitter when we drop him off (he hates it when we leave... although it's not as bad now). I hate to put him with completely different people, when he is so used to the babysitter and her family. So I am really torn about what to do.

Dane-zilla

2005-07-12T18:18:00.000-07:00

Foilwoman wrote:

"Oh, and more pictures of Dane, please. Maybe something of him destroying theliving room, Godzilla like, as he takes over the world now that he is mobile?"

So, per her request:

Breastfeeding

2005-07-11T10:52:00.000-07:00

I was perusing Kira's Blog today and read through her rant regarding nudity. Now, I have no problem with nudity. Seeing an attractive woman, or even a plain woman, naked does not necessarily roust my nether regions (I've gone to strip clubs without getting a chubby). So the problem isn't thinking about sex when I see a naked woman, it's about thinking she should be covered up. Go to any nude beach and you will see more people there that should be clothed, than people who have attractive bodies. So if you think going to a nude mall, beach, club, pool, etc. will be like watching skinemax after-dark, you will be greatly disappointed.

So it is with breastfeeding. When a woman "whips out her BREAST" to feed her baby, the horror isn't that I'm all hot for lactatin' momma, it's that I do not wish to see momma lactating (I do realize that Kira's situation was in a hospital, which to me, is a much more acceptable circumstance... I'm talking specifically about women flopping it out in public with no cover or worse... while you are having a conversation with them). I do not wish to see nature in action (I think there would be a lot of people upset if I took a great big shit in the middle of the street... talk about nature in action... everyone shits... why would anyone be alarmed at the movement of my bowels?). I'm going to make huge sweeping generalization here: I don't think that any man wants to see a woman nursing an infant, unless it is his wife and child, or has some professional reason to see it. It is the most beautiful, wondrous process when my wife uses her breasts to sustain the life of my son. It does not have the same effect if I see any other woman doing it.

And I don't like the idea of a child running around the house naked while there are guests in the home. I don't think it is proper or appropriate with guests, but it has nothing to do with nudity, it has to do with discipline. You don't have to scold a child and make him feel like a bad boy for doing it, but you do have to explain that there are times when that behavior is okay, and times when it is not. It starts that early in a child's life. The career I am in, makes it very obvious that children need guidance and that a lack of it can produce disastrous results.

I also understand that a naked boy in the house is not going to be the end of the world and that sometimes you have to choose your battles. So maybe I'll be eating my words in a couple of years.

So keep your kids clothes on, your lactating breasts covered and, unless you're really hot, your body covered.

I Need To Post, But Have No Idea What To Post About

2005-07-08T13:48:00.000-07:00

I really do try to post as often as I can. I get so into commenting on everyone else's blog that I forget to do my own. Maybe I should put my comments on my blog.

At this point, I really have nothing to discuss. Well, at least nothing that I haven't already read somewhere else (and commented). My life seems to be going pretty smoothly. Dane continues to be the best boy ever. Renee gets the patience-of-a-saint award, for dealing with me in the morning. Our house plans are still being drawn up. We have our lot. What could be better?

That makes me think of something...

In my little survey, WordWhiz answered the question, "What was your first impression?" with, "That you were someone of integrity." Foilwoman answered, "Describe me in one word" with, "Generous or Kind-hearted or Sweet." Their responses made me feel really good. However, I knew that integrity probably isn't always the best word used to describe me. I knew that it seems there are more times that I'm not generous, kind-hearted or sweet. Sometimes (I'm sure Renee would agree), the best words for me are: grumpy, mean, negative, irritable, angry, bitter, etc. After that you may want to use words like: blaming, guilty, finger-pointing, etc.

I wish I could be Galahad, the pure-hearted. I wish I could always be "Sir Andy." I have great ideals, but sometimes I'm too busy being selfish follow them. I think so old school music really sums up what I can be about sometimes. The song is called Music and Politics by the Disposable Heros of Hiphoprisy. The lyric I like is:

If ever I would stop thinking about music and politics
I would tell you thatI pooped in my own dog dish
And sometimes I would rather face not eating
than face licking it clean
And admitting when I’m selfish
And I’d
tell you that I’m suffering from the worst type of loneliness
The loneliness
of being misunderstood, or more poignantly
the loneliness of being afraid
to allow myself to be understood

So what do you do when you're a prick? I don't want to raise my boy to be like that. I don't think I am, but as SwimmingSideways said, your child is always watching and is setting their sights to be in line with what they see. I don't want to be mean to Renee when I am tired. I don't want Dane to think it's okay to be that way. Some days, it's hard to keep it in check (sorry about this morning, Honey... oh... and last night too).

So give me your best shot... what do you think?

Family Picture

2005-07-05T13:40:00.000-07:00

Don't we look great?!

Ahhh... The Subtly of Foilwoman

2005-07-05T08:06:00.000-07:00

Foilwoman made me do this... in her subtle way. Give it a shot. I would like to know who you are... all of you!

1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. When and how did we meet?
4. Do you have a crush on me?
5. Would you kiss me?
6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
7. Describe me in one word.
8. What was your first impression?
9. Do you still think that way about me now?
10. What reminds you of me?
11. If you could give me anything what would it be?
12. How well do you know me?
13. When's the last time you saw me?
14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
15. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?

3 Simple Rules...

2005-06-30T13:19:00.000-07:00

... to live by!

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

See Dane Crawl

2005-06-28T17:06:00.000-07:00

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

$5

2005-06-28T14:49:00.000-07:00

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?

Father-In-Law

2005-06-24T08:38:00.000-07:00

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.

Boobs

2005-06-23T07:40:00.000-07:00

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.

Dane's Daddy's Daddy

2005-06-22T05:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Up?

2005-06-21T13:18:00.000-07:00

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

2005-06-21T10:20:00.000-07:00

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:

with "I love my Daddy" stuck to one of the hand prints. Renee got me a little kit to make a stepping stone:

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!

Truce

2005-06-18T19:33:00.000-07:00

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.

Life Support System for a Penis

2005-06-17T12:43:00.000-07:00

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).

Drops of Jupiter

2005-06-16T07:17:00.000-07:00

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."

My Baby Boy

2005-06-15T15:04:00.000-07:00

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

Hope = God

2005-06-14T11:22:00.000-07:00

(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'!

The Happy Parents

2005-06-09T14:12:00.000-07:00

Mommy and Daddy in Mexico... Before Dane!

Just figured out how to post pictures

2005-06-09T14:01:00.000-07:00

Dane's List of Things to do next:

Crawl
Stand on my own
Walk

Waaaaah = Soothe me

2005-06-09T07:24:00.000-07:00

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.

Guide

2005-06-07T14:20:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2005-06-06T09:10:00.000-07:00

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!!!!

The A.D. Relationship

2005-06-03T07:06:00.000-07:00

"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.

As insignificant as clipping fingernails

2005-05-30T08:59:00.000-07:00

I think it's pretty close to impossible to explain how a father loves their child. If you have a child then you probably understand (although that's questionable with some people). For those who don't have children, the idea of a child is impossible to fathom. Even a woman pregnant with her first child, still has no idea what is in store.

It's kind of funny how some people tried to explain to me, the idea of life with a child. Renee and I kept getting these horrible stories told to us about how it would be. "You'll never get any sleep again." "You'll never get to go do the things you want to do." "Life will never be the same for you." All these stories made us wonder why people would ever want to have more than one child, since it's so demanding.

After having a child, I have to say that all of these horror stories are true. You do lose out on sleep. Your life is forever changed. Renee and I can't go out on the town, get irresponsibly drunk. Dane still wakes up at 6:30am, not caring if Mommy and Daddy have a hang over. Yes, all those things are true. I get where they are coming from. BUT, they left out something huge! They left out the absolute total love you feel for your child.

This is the one thing you can't explain to someone without a child. You can add that in (and maybe they did), but all the expecting Mommies and Daddies will hear are the parts about leaving behind their old lives. It's the only thing they can identify with. The love for a child is way too abstract and so foreign for someone who hasn't experienced it.

Last night, just about every 2 hours, I heard Dane stir. He hasn't been feeling good. Teething takes it out of a baby, although most of the time you would never know with Dane. But at night, it's hard for him to get comfortable and the amount of drool (he got that trait from his Daddy for sure) he leaves on his bed, slowly wakes him from a blissful sleep. So when I heard him waking up, I got up (I didn't want Renee to wake up, because she had to get up early), went into his room and ever so gently picked him up and moved him around his crib. He zonked right back out once he was in a dry spot.

This morning Renee went to work at 7:15am (sucks to be her, huh). At 6:30am (or so), she brought a sleepy Dane into our bed after she feed him, so she could shower and get ready. I rolled over and watched him sleep for a little bit while Renee was in the shower. I love watching him sleep. He's so peaceful and relaxed. The love I feel for him is just overwhelming.

The point of all this (sorry if I lost you... sometimes I lose myself) is that there are things you lose when you have a child in your life. Anyone can see that. But once you have a child, those things seem microscopically insignificant when compared to what out get out of it. When you clip a fingernail, you lose a piece of you, but doesn't that seem pretty small compared to the rest of your life?

The Cry Face

2005-05-24T11:49:00.000-07:00

Maybe I can be more on top of things. You know, keep this current. With all the things going on in my life with a family it's hard to keep this up to date. I'm going to try harder (Haven't I actually said those same words before?).

What's happening? Everything! Dane continues to be the best boy ever! He certainly is the center of the universe in our small family.

A couple of weekends ago, we all went to Dane's first MLB game. Dressed in all the right colors, sporting a ball cap and pacifier, we cruised around the ballpark. He rode in style and comfort in his Snugli. At our seats, we hung out and played, until the first homerun. As the crowd began to roar, my son, who has never heard such a scary sound, began to get the "cry face." I held him close as he whimpered a little and all way okay. After that, the crowd noise didn't bother him. The trip home was pretty short for him, as he slept from the time we put him into the carseat until we arrived at home.

Last week Dane went swimming for the first time. It was at a resort indoor swimming pool and with the other screaming children (mine, of course, not included), it was sensory overload... for me. Dane was fine with the noise. He often looked around to investigate where the annoying noises was coming from, but was pretty unaffected by the shrill screeches.

At first we had him in one of those flotation/swimming suit, but when we put him in the water we realized it was a bit big for him (the floaties floated up and covered his face). So he hung out in Daddy's arms. The water was a little cold ("I can't even stay in... it's FREEZING," Renee says through clattering teeth), but I held him close and he got used to it. He laughed and giggled as he kicked and paddled around. He may not be able to walk, but he knows how to swim (not really swim, but let the proud Daddy have his moment). A couple of times he dropped his head a little for some water... choke... cough... grin! He loved it!

Yesterday was a tough day for everyone. Dane is at daycare 2 days a week with friend of the family. It was my day to drop him off. I handed him off to Anne and he gave the "cry face." I told Anne he was pretty sleepy on the way over and ready for a nap. He held out his arms and just looked at me with his "cry face." I picked him up and held him for a minute. He stopped and I handed him to Anne. The "cry face" returns and I feel like crap. I called Renee and let her know what happened. She called me later and told me he cried himself to sleep. That just breaks my heart! Of course he woke up later and was doing great. No problems. I can understand how people spoil there kids. You never want them to ever have adversity in their lives, but that's the way the world is. You can't protect them from everything and that's the hardest thing to watch. However, I've seen the other side of it. Where parent protected there child from everything, and the child is unable to function in the world because of it.

ANYWAY... You get the gist...

2005-04-29T14:42:00.000-07:00

Dang... Another month goes by. I keep forgetting about keeping this up to date!

Well, we go to a friends house to watch UFC. It's our first time without Dane and we are an hour away. It was a little panicky, but we finally relaxed. Our friend's boy who is 10 months old is running around... yes... RUNNING. Renee and I laughed. Dane has pushed himself up on all fours a couple of times, but he certainly isn't crawling.

The fight was good, but we got a call from the babysitter who was a little panicked. Then on the way home there was a car wreck at our exit so we sat in the car for an hour about 100 yards from our exit. by the time we got there Dane was out and so was the babysitter.

Last weekend, we went bowling. The same babysitter watched Dane without a hitch. Life is good when you can spend time with your wife again.

Has it been that long?

2005-04-01T14:03:00.000-08:00

Well... sorry... I dropped the ball. Fumble at the 1 yard line. I will do my best to get you up to date.

Dane has continued to be a wonderful blessing! Sick or not, he is always smiling and happy. On Monday, he had a 102 degree temperature, but he was smiling and interacting like nothing was wrong. The tough times for him have been at night when it's hard for him to get comfortable.

Here he is at 7 months, eating more solid food, and can actually pick up his sippy cup and drink out of it. At this rate, he'll be easily weened at his first birthday. It may be more difficult for Renee to be weened. I think she is going to miss the closeness and dependence on her.

It really amazes me that Dane is so excited to see me when I get home in the evenings. I guess I understand how easy it would be for an infant to be so close to it's mother. Renee is the most constant thing in his world. But for him to actually know my voice, look for me when he hears my voice on speakerphone, that is truly amazing. It wonderful when I walk into the room where Renee is feeding him and he stops when he hears me, turns to look for me and then when he spots me, starts grinning and cooing. It make a Daddy turn into baby himself, with all the funny noises and baby talk.

I have also been thinking lately (probably because of the increase in gas prices and the general shape the world is in) about the world Dane is going to inherit. What is his life going to be like? Is it going to be so much harder for him to succeed because of the ever increasing competitiveness of our society. It scares me to think of what he's going to face out there. I'm sure it's no different than what any father ponders. Father's before me were probably wondering how the world was going to look with the spread of communism, much like my concern over the spread of terrorism. Yet, I've succeeded in this world, which is far more competitive than it was in my father's day.

That's about it for now. Hopefully there won't be as long of a delay to the next blog.

Yee Haw!!!

2005-02-07T11:04:00.000-08:00

Dane slept through the night! We were very relieved to wake up in the morning to the sounds of an alarm, instead of cry. It's amazing what a good nights rest does.

It was hard this morning for Dane to be taken to Ann's house. I wanted to bring him to work with me. It's weird that it's hard some days and not others. I don't like him going to day care. It seems so irresponsible to take your child somewhere to be watched. It's only a couple of days a week, but even that seems like too much.

Still itchy

2005-02-06T19:00:00.000-08:00

Last night, again, was a tough night for all of us. Dane could not get comfortable and we couldn't sleep unless he was. I must say that I'm not a very "supportive" husband at 3am. It's hard for me to function and extremely hard for me to be civil. I try, but I turn out to be just plain mean to Renee. I'm very sorry afterwards, but at the time it almost seems justified in my sleep deprived mind. Crazy, huh?

Today, the family went to church, the mall and back home for a nap. Renee, who needed it more, slept for 3 hours. Dane was downstairs with me during that time. He took 3 hours to nap too. I just vegged in front of the TV until the Superbowl started. After he woke up, we played for a while. It's amazing how much he pushes himself up when he's on his stomach. He looks like he's ready to crawl. He moves around like he's on the move, but he doesn't go anywhere. I encourage him and he just smiles big and keeps moving like he's going somewhere. I can remember when he could fit in my hands. I can't imagine him as a teenager or even a toddler, but I know that time moves so much faster with children and he'll be as tall as me before I know it.

Dane now has a full belly and is sleeping in his bed. As I watch the ending minutes of the Superbowl, I am hopeful that Dane will sleep through the night. Tomorrow is a work day and it will be tough if we're up all night.

The Superbowl really doesn't matter. I was hoping for an Eagle's win, although I really don't like them, I am tired of the Patriot's winning. It brings back memories of the fixed game against the Rams. Laugh all you want. It just seems too coincidental that the Patriots win the first Superbowl after September 11th. Let's go Red, White and Blue! Don't get me wrong, I love the USA. I just think it was way to get the public rallied. Well, I hope I don't get a lot of hate e-mail for my opinion.

The Patriot's just won the Superbowl... again.

Sounds like a good reason to go to bed.

Goodnight.

The beginning?

2005-02-05T09:15:00.000-08:00

Well, this isn't truly the beginning, but it's the start of tracking our experiences. Dane is 5 months old and we couldn't have asked for a better child. In the words of Renee, he has been "low maintainence" since the day (or should I say week?) he came into the world. We would like to think we are just good parents, but I think we got lucky with a great child. Maybe it's a combination of both... that actually sounds better.

Right now, the little man is taking a nap. He was up last night for what seemed like hours. It's interesting how quickly you forget your past sleep deprivation. We used to get up with him every 3 hours to feed and change him.

Well, hold on a minute. That isn't entirely accurate. For those of you that aren't parents, feeding a baby every 3 hours isn't really what it sounds like. When he wakes up, you warm the bottle (10 minutes, which seems like a lot longer when he is squalling to be fed), change him in the meantime, feed him (30-40 minutes) and get him back to sleep (10-20 minutes). Then 3 hours of peaceful sleep? Nope, 3 hours from when you started. So you might get 2 hours of peaceful sleep, but only if you can get back to sleep. I will say it was easier for Renee to breast feed, she could zombie out while he ate. But she would be on-the-clock for so much of the time, I tried to do what I could and let her sleep.

Back to my original thought. Since he's sleeping in his own bed for the entire night, we have become acustom to our sleep. Last night was hard on all of us, but we still got more sleep than we did before he was in his own bed. We are all so tired!

The source of all this fussiness? We think Dane has aquired a food allergy. From what you ask? Who knows. He has been eating some solid foods (bananas, peaches, rice cereal) and breast milk. That's it. And he's been eating these same things for a couple of weeks. So no bananas or peaches for you young man!

He has a bit of a rash on his head. A little on his body. Eating great. Breathing is fine. He isn't squalling (unless we don't hold him). So we aren't worried about him. And now he is even taking a nap, which is something he wouldn't do yesterday. So, life as usual for now.

Well, he's awake.