A few weeks ago, I had Sydney in my arms while we walked through the park. A mother with her young child point our way and said, "Look! There's a daddy with his baby!"
I actually turned to see who she was pointing at before I realized she was pointing at me. I had to fight the urge to run over to this woman and explain that I'm not as old as I look.
Also:
I walked in on two of the younger people at work discussing last summers Warped Tour and I mentioned that I've always wanted to go, but never have; for whatever reason, I just don't go to concerts. Josh (17) said, "You should really go, it's a blast."
Daniel (18) looked at me and said, "Do you even like that kind of music?"
Friday, October 21, 2005
The Other Day At Work
I saw a forgotten pink balloon, barely able to float three inches off the ground for the weight of it's ribbons. I picked it up, trimmed the excess ribbon, and taped it to my work station. For some reason, it was important to me to save this balloon, and it made me happy to place it where others could see.
When I got back from break, someone had thrown it away.
When I got back from break, someone had thrown it away.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Today is September 30
Today, I sold my first Christmas-themed magazine, and saw two seperate ads on television for CDs of Christmas music.
There are 86 days until Christmas.
There are 86 days until Christmas.
Friday, September 16, 2005
How do you titillate an ocelot?
You oscillate his tit a lot.
(This joke was stolen)
People often ask me how fatherhood is, and the best adjective I can come up with is weird. I still really don't identify myself as a father, and it's bizarre to think of my father as a grandfather, and my grandparents as great-grandparents.
I have noticed that I'm beginning understand parents more. I'm sure all my readers can remember their own parents saying somthing to the effect of "You're not a parent; you won't understand until you are one." Those of you who are parents know what they meant. To those who aren't, well you won't understand until you have kids of you own.
A recent example: We watched a TV father go into almost ridiculous detail about how he worried about his daughter. My roomate said, "Wow. He put a lot of thought into that," and I had to exlain that's what parents do: they don't just worry about their kids, they obessively worry about their kids.
Someone without kids thinks "What would happen to a baby left in a car on a hot day? It would probably die." A parent asks that question and their mind is off and running: the scenario plays itself out in their head in the most agonizing, brutal, gruesome detail: in their mind, it's not just a random baby, it's their baby, and it's their car, and it's their fault their child slowly baked to death. They see their daughter screaming and screaming and no one sees or hears, then the screaming dies off into sobs which slowly fade and they baby is just lying there, her breaths coming slower and shallower untill they stop entirely, and you have to force yourself to stop thinking, because if you don't, you're just going to shut down.
(This joke was stolen)
People often ask me how fatherhood is, and the best adjective I can come up with is weird. I still really don't identify myself as a father, and it's bizarre to think of my father as a grandfather, and my grandparents as great-grandparents.
I have noticed that I'm beginning understand parents more. I'm sure all my readers can remember their own parents saying somthing to the effect of "You're not a parent; you won't understand until you are one." Those of you who are parents know what they meant. To those who aren't, well you won't understand until you have kids of you own.
A recent example: We watched a TV father go into almost ridiculous detail about how he worried about his daughter. My roomate said, "Wow. He put a lot of thought into that," and I had to exlain that's what parents do: they don't just worry about their kids, they obessively worry about their kids.
Someone without kids thinks "What would happen to a baby left in a car on a hot day? It would probably die." A parent asks that question and their mind is off and running: the scenario plays itself out in their head in the most agonizing, brutal, gruesome detail: in their mind, it's not just a random baby, it's their baby, and it's their car, and it's their fault their child slowly baked to death. They see their daughter screaming and screaming and no one sees or hears, then the screaming dies off into sobs which slowly fade and they baby is just lying there, her breaths coming slower and shallower untill they stop entirely, and you have to force yourself to stop thinking, because if you don't, you're just going to shut down.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
The house I live in
is very crowded. It contains myself, my wife, my daughter, my sister, her fiance, and my buddy from Vermont who just moved out West and is looking for a job and a place of his own.
There is also my dog Lou, two beta fish, a cat and two ferrets.
Today, for the first time since I don't know when, I am the only human in the house.
It's quiet and wonderful.
There is also my dog Lou, two beta fish, a cat and two ferrets.
Today, for the first time since I don't know when, I am the only human in the house.
It's quiet and wonderful.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Sydney
Is three months old now, and largely the reason I haven't written anything in so long. She pushes herself up onto her elbows whenever she's on her stomach, and pretty much has the whole 'holding my head still' thing down. She loves to sit up (still have to prop her; she dosen't quite got the hang of that yet) and be a part of the conversation, insofar as she is able.
About that: she id highly vocal, not crying and screaming (though she does her fair share of that...), but making sounds and trying out her voice. She occasionally suprises herself with what comes out of her mouth.
she also loves to laugh and smile, and I have quicklyy learned that there is little I won't do for that smile. Nomi has taken to calling her the Strongest Baby in the World: "She can wrap a 280 pound man around her little finger."
I know understand certain things I didn't before, like pictures in wallets. I never, never, had pictures of anybody in my wallet, but now I have a few of Nomi and I and a couple of Sydney. At work, I find myself looking at them and grinning a stupid grin.
Also, I understand what people mean when they say they don't want their kids to grow up. A small part of me wants sydney to stay this young forever, and the knowledge that, one day, she will have a like of her own makes me very sad.
******
I read an essay once, about a British woman who married and American discussing the common language barrier that Britian and America share. He would ask her opinion on a necklace or some candlesticks or some other knick-knack ("It's a knick-knack Patty Back; give the frog a loan.") and she would say "It's quite nice," then be mystified when he bought it. You see, in England, 'quite' softens enthusiasm reather than intensifies it. This also explains that he meant know insult when he called her home cooked meals "Quite good."
Nomi and I shared a moment like this the other day. I have a problem, sometimes, of remembering to do the shores she asks of me (in fact, every single screaming match we've gotten into has been over chores.). She feels that I don't attach importance to what she asks of me, and I have trouble convincing her that there is no malice (nor indeed, any thought at all) in my absentmindedness. We almost had another fight it about when, something clicked in my mind.
Naomi will frequently say. "The one thing I need you to do today is X" which I always took to mean, "Here is a single item (as opposed to three or four) to add to the list of things you want to accomplish today." It always seemed that it didn't really matter if I finished it or not, as it was just one more thing on the list. What she means is, "The most important thing you can do for me today is X"
Every major argument we've had boiled down to the simple problem of two peopel speaking the same language. Further proof, in my mind, that language and communication are among the most complicated things on the planet.
***
I san an interesting thing on 60 Minutes today about stress and aging. We've all heard that stress ages you, but now, a psychologist working with a molecular biologist, have proven that sentiment to be true, and pinpointed how it occurs.
The DNA that resides in every cell in your body is "capped" on either end by a structure the biologist likened to the plastic caps on shoelaces (I forget their proper name). These caps wear thin and brittle with age, until eventually, they break, the DNA unravels, and the cell dies. This is why we lose eyesight and muscle strength as we get older.
The study, in order to find people with a lot of stress in their lives, used 30 mothers who cared for children with chronic diseases like autism or cancer. The researchers got the mothers thoughts on the stress in their lives: how much they felt, how well they feel they cope, as well as recorded their bio-chemical responses to sressful situations. They also examined earch womans DNA. The research concluded that excessive stress and, more importantly, feeling unable to cope with it, , had the same effect on the DNA caps as aging. The effect was not minor; the women who were coping poorly had effectivly aged 10 years over the ones who were managing. A figure the biologist called "very conservative."
About that: she id highly vocal, not crying and screaming (though she does her fair share of that...), but making sounds and trying out her voice. She occasionally suprises herself with what comes out of her mouth.
she also loves to laugh and smile, and I have quicklyy learned that there is little I won't do for that smile. Nomi has taken to calling her the Strongest Baby in the World: "She can wrap a 280 pound man around her little finger."
I know understand certain things I didn't before, like pictures in wallets. I never, never, had pictures of anybody in my wallet, but now I have a few of Nomi and I and a couple of Sydney. At work, I find myself looking at them and grinning a stupid grin.
Also, I understand what people mean when they say they don't want their kids to grow up. A small part of me wants sydney to stay this young forever, and the knowledge that, one day, she will have a like of her own makes me very sad.
******
I read an essay once, about a British woman who married and American discussing the common language barrier that Britian and America share. He would ask her opinion on a necklace or some candlesticks or some other knick-knack ("It's a knick-knack Patty Back; give the frog a loan.") and she would say "It's quite nice," then be mystified when he bought it. You see, in England, 'quite' softens enthusiasm reather than intensifies it. This also explains that he meant know insult when he called her home cooked meals "Quite good."
Nomi and I shared a moment like this the other day. I have a problem, sometimes, of remembering to do the shores she asks of me (in fact, every single screaming match we've gotten into has been over chores.). She feels that I don't attach importance to what she asks of me, and I have trouble convincing her that there is no malice (nor indeed, any thought at all) in my absentmindedness. We almost had another fight it about when, something clicked in my mind.
Naomi will frequently say. "The one thing I need you to do today is X" which I always took to mean, "Here is a single item (as opposed to three or four) to add to the list of things you want to accomplish today." It always seemed that it didn't really matter if I finished it or not, as it was just one more thing on the list. What she means is, "The most important thing you can do for me today is X"
Every major argument we've had boiled down to the simple problem of two peopel speaking the same language. Further proof, in my mind, that language and communication are among the most complicated things on the planet.
***
I san an interesting thing on 60 Minutes today about stress and aging. We've all heard that stress ages you, but now, a psychologist working with a molecular biologist, have proven that sentiment to be true, and pinpointed how it occurs.
The DNA that resides in every cell in your body is "capped" on either end by a structure the biologist likened to the plastic caps on shoelaces (I forget their proper name). These caps wear thin and brittle with age, until eventually, they break, the DNA unravels, and the cell dies. This is why we lose eyesight and muscle strength as we get older.
The study, in order to find people with a lot of stress in their lives, used 30 mothers who cared for children with chronic diseases like autism or cancer. The researchers got the mothers thoughts on the stress in their lives: how much they felt, how well they feel they cope, as well as recorded their bio-chemical responses to sressful situations. They also examined earch womans DNA. The research concluded that excessive stress and, more importantly, feeling unable to cope with it, , had the same effect on the DNA caps as aging. The effect was not minor; the women who were coping poorly had effectivly aged 10 years over the ones who were managing. A figure the biologist called "very conservative."
Saturday, August 06, 2005
I do not feel
that fatherhood has required me to make any uncomfortable sacrifices. I've heard that some new fathers really resent the responsabilities and personal limitations that come with having a child. For the most part, I just accept them as things that I have to, and I do them quite gladly.
There is one exception, however. Being married (to a certain extent) and have a baby (to a much larger extent) has robbed me of my ability to leave suddenly and quickly. Time was I would drive, the long way, to Las Vegas on a few hours notice. Drive all night to spend the day in Salt Lake City on mere minutes notice. These times are no more. Now, even a short trip to the grocery store reqiures locating all the gear that small children need. Diaper bag (also got to pack it), stroller, blankets, binks and bottles. If anything is forgotten, the trip becomes remarkably difficult.
There is a part of me that mourns the loss of my mobility, even resents my family for it. The other part of me understands that that chapter of my life is closed, and that a new one has begun.
There is one exception, however. Being married (to a certain extent) and have a baby (to a much larger extent) has robbed me of my ability to leave suddenly and quickly. Time was I would drive, the long way, to Las Vegas on a few hours notice. Drive all night to spend the day in Salt Lake City on mere minutes notice. These times are no more. Now, even a short trip to the grocery store reqiures locating all the gear that small children need. Diaper bag (also got to pack it), stroller, blankets, binks and bottles. If anything is forgotten, the trip becomes remarkably difficult.
There is a part of me that mourns the loss of my mobility, even resents my family for it. The other part of me understands that that chapter of my life is closed, and that a new one has begun.
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