Don't you hate it when someone starts to tell you a good story and it goes somewhere you don't sanitizer? That was my favorite internet quote of the week mined from some random online comic site. I warn you that this post might be somewhat like that quote, which isn't to say that all my posts are a little like it.
Writing posts consistently is proving to be a little challenging. I'd love to blame this on Robin, but I've had issues doing things consistently since well before he was born. I think it really is more a symptom of of my general work history which has been mostly project based, which means I've trained myself very well in the art of the binge.
I'm good at binge. I binge read books, devouring four in a row. Then I'll have not desire to touch a book for days or weeks. I'll binge (yes I know) anime. I'll watch 24 episode all at once. Once done, I'm bored with that for a while. I'm really good at throwing a lot energy into something for a short period of time, but then I get burned out. This made me a great fit for free-lance theater. Every show needs a big burst of energy for a week, then I get to move on to the next project. It's also why shows with 2 weeks of tech drive me crazy. I could never be a stage manager and live with a show for months unless I found a way to break the project a smaller projects I could binge.
And so, blogging reliable is proving to be a challenge. I tend to binge out a post then I'm sated for a while. Yes, blogging is all about me, not you...Sorry.
I think another challenge to my blogging career is that I want to have something meaningful to say. And lets be honest, when you spend your days reading "All the Hippos Go Berserk!" to a 13 month old, it is somewaht difficult to have deep thoughts. Although that book really is a great example/explanation of factorials (n)!, but Robin doesn't grasp the concept yet. He likes to carry around my crocs sandals and hit things with them. I suppose I could write about the everyday joys of raising a fun and busy child, but I let my poet membership card lapse. I often search for a grand statement to make before I post, some insightful observation, but most days it's that "Apple Sauce is good." Which in fact I will probably be writing righteously about soon.
Speaking of righteousness. That would be another reason for resisting the blog post. The current political environment gets me so worked up that I usually refrain from writing, because I do want to find a job again someday. So I should probably keep the google search quotes down to a minimum. I mean Hobby Lobby gets to practice religion? What happens during the Rapture? Do all the Hobby Lobby's ascend too? What about the non-Christians shopping for yarn at the time, do they get a free trip to the pearly gates? What will the sudden appearance of thousands of Hobby Lobby's in heaven do to the property values of those Saint's mansions. (See, I should keep those type of things to myself, or at least on Facebook.)
Therefore today I decided that I needed to just have a chat with my imaginary audience. No grand point. No deep insightful inspiration. So instead I'll tell you a story. It's about a boy named Robin who has wandered into the kitchen is now hanging on the dishwasher door. I should Sanitizer.
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Thursday, July 10, 2014
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Hell is Other Parents
Before Robin was born, my greatest fear wasn't that he'd be born with 11 toes, or that I would be bad father, but that I would have to hang out with other parents. Again, most of my experience with this idea was informed by movie and TV stereotypes about how catty and competitive parents can be about their children: "My kid's the 80th percentile for height!" "Yeah, well my kid's the 90th percentile for weight!" Alice Louise and I were mostly spared from this sort of competition for two reasons. One, we have no other friends with kids in Denver that aren't related to us, and two, Robin is pretty small for his age. His weight has been pretty consistently at the 13th percentile, which means that 87% of babies at his age weigh more than him.
This isn't actually worrying. The nice thing about this stat is that it makes you realize that every kid is different and is the perfect percentile for themselves. I feel that this is the start of an important epiphany for my own understanding of my life as a parent. Developmentally Robin is trucking right along. He started walking on June 19th and has decided that crawling is for suckers. He tried running a couple of times to disastrous and hilarious results. We think the squeal followed by the mmm and dddeee sounds when he sees the dog might actually be an attempt to say Maddie. He'll wave at you when you leave, and he claps when he thinks he's done something of importance. He does make sure to look at you when he does it, so that you too know that he has done something important. It's a pretty joyful time.
But I do worry a little about his lack of contact with other kiddos. He and his cousin Jack see each other all the time and get along great. Jack is a real sweet-heart, but that 18 month gap at the moment is a little too much for much meaningful play. We've also started dropping Robin off for a day with a wonderful woman named Helena every other week for some training in daycare. But it isn't really enough socialization and so that means its time to strike out and find other parents. It means facing my greatest fear, meeting other people and discussing our kids.
There is a pretty active dad's group in town and I've been getting meet up requests for a year. So I need to break my own insular inertia and get out there. I'm sure it will be better than I'm imagining.
A couple of weeks ago Al's sister's family came to visit to celebrate Robin's birthday. Beyond the glimpse into my future of spending two weeks with a 4 year old and a 21 month old, it was a really nice time. We used almost every membership card in my wallet. One trip to the Zoo was particularly interesting. I screwed up the time and we missed the sea lion show because of the change with the summer hours, but there was a nice sandbox play area near the sea lion enclosure. Lexi and Jasper had a grand time digging and painting the rocks with water (somehow that was cool). Robin was far too young to play in the box (handfuls of sand in the mouth didn't appeal) so we sat on the edge in the shade and watched Sally chase Lexi and Jasper about. Sitting near me were three stay at home moms on a meetup.
A casting agent couldn't have done a better job filling the roles. Of course I eavesdropped. And it was pretty much the mix of complaining and self-congratulatory dialogue I would have expected on a TV show. Every kid was exceptional and head of all the other kids at such and such. They were the best moms ever because of this and that. All their husbands were lazy losers*. It was pretty fun listening as each tried to out do the last with a story of spousal misdeed. (Which really came down to him letting Ralphie use the i-pad on a school night!) The more I listened the more I realized that these women weren't that different than me (except I have a good spouse). Their were covering up for their insecurities as parents by boasting about how good they were at it. And a boast only really has any power if it has an audience. The women weren't friends outside of the meetup, so it was a perfectly safe place to bolster their parental bona-fides. And as they packed up their kiddos and went off to have a picnic I thought to myself: "There go three mom's doing the best that they can." Then as I surveyed the pack of children they lead away, I thought "Robin is cuter than that whole lot."
Check out my other blog project at http://16yearoldpoems.blogspot.com/
This isn't actually worrying. The nice thing about this stat is that it makes you realize that every kid is different and is the perfect percentile for themselves. I feel that this is the start of an important epiphany for my own understanding of my life as a parent. Developmentally Robin is trucking right along. He started walking on June 19th and has decided that crawling is for suckers. He tried running a couple of times to disastrous and hilarious results. We think the squeal followed by the mmm and dddeee sounds when he sees the dog might actually be an attempt to say Maddie. He'll wave at you when you leave, and he claps when he thinks he's done something of importance. He does make sure to look at you when he does it, so that you too know that he has done something important. It's a pretty joyful time.
But I do worry a little about his lack of contact with other kiddos. He and his cousin Jack see each other all the time and get along great. Jack is a real sweet-heart, but that 18 month gap at the moment is a little too much for much meaningful play. We've also started dropping Robin off for a day with a wonderful woman named Helena every other week for some training in daycare. But it isn't really enough socialization and so that means its time to strike out and find other parents. It means facing my greatest fear, meeting other people and discussing our kids.
There is a pretty active dad's group in town and I've been getting meet up requests for a year. So I need to break my own insular inertia and get out there. I'm sure it will be better than I'm imagining.
A couple of weeks ago Al's sister's family came to visit to celebrate Robin's birthday. Beyond the glimpse into my future of spending two weeks with a 4 year old and a 21 month old, it was a really nice time. We used almost every membership card in my wallet. One trip to the Zoo was particularly interesting. I screwed up the time and we missed the sea lion show because of the change with the summer hours, but there was a nice sandbox play area near the sea lion enclosure. Lexi and Jasper had a grand time digging and painting the rocks with water (somehow that was cool). Robin was far too young to play in the box (handfuls of sand in the mouth didn't appeal) so we sat on the edge in the shade and watched Sally chase Lexi and Jasper about. Sitting near me were three stay at home moms on a meetup.
A casting agent couldn't have done a better job filling the roles. Of course I eavesdropped. And it was pretty much the mix of complaining and self-congratulatory dialogue I would have expected on a TV show. Every kid was exceptional and head of all the other kids at such and such. They were the best moms ever because of this and that. All their husbands were lazy losers*. It was pretty fun listening as each tried to out do the last with a story of spousal misdeed. (Which really came down to him letting Ralphie use the i-pad on a school night!) The more I listened the more I realized that these women weren't that different than me (except I have a good spouse). Their were covering up for their insecurities as parents by boasting about how good they were at it. And a boast only really has any power if it has an audience. The women weren't friends outside of the meetup, so it was a perfectly safe place to bolster their parental bona-fides. And as they packed up their kiddos and went off to have a picnic I thought to myself: "There go three mom's doing the best that they can." Then as I surveyed the pack of children they lead away, I thought "Robin is cuter than that whole lot."
Check out my other blog project at http://16yearoldpoems.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
The Epic of GilgaNap
Well. It's been a month since my last post. Between everyone getting sick, cutting teeth, and sleep training, there hasn't been a lot of time for thinking or writing. (Also, Robin is now speed crawler.)
A couple of weeks ago was Alice Louise's company's holiday party. The party was a full month after the holidays, and on a Thursday because the people that work with Alice Louise are very important and busy, so getting a majority of them together took two months and could only land on a Thursday. As a consequence of such a late holiday party, they decided to celebrate the closest holiday to the actual date, which turned out to be Cowboy Poetry Week. So all of the groups attending were asked to bring and recite a poem with a cowboy theme. Here was my entry: (Sorry if it's TL;DR)
The Long Ride of NoNap the Kid.
There once was a young cowboy named NoNap the kid.
He dressed in snap button shirts and cowhide chaps, and leather boots.
His pa gave him a bolo and belt with a big buckle.
His ma gave him a Stetson so the outfit was complete.
NoNap’s name was true, as he resisted every naptime.
His ma would put him down for siesta in his small wooden corral,
He would only fake close his eyes, counting the heartbeats,
And waiting for the echo of her footsteps to fade down the hall.
Then NoNap would grab his favorite roping lasso,
And would toss the end out of the window so high,
To where his mount, Yap was ever waiting to catch it
To hoist him up and out of his sleeping chamber to ride.
The Imperious Yap stood 15 inches to her shoulder
A black and white mutt with mighty shoulders and back.
She wore a saddle fashioned from duct tape, brown and tan crayons.
NoNap the Kid would ride her on every afternoon range.
NoNap and Yap would travel miles on the prairie,
Checking fences and minding the gathered herds of cattle and sheep.
They knew where to find that sheep that was straying.
And when they found her one yap would get her back on her way.
Sometimes they’d ride to where the prairie met the ocean,
And ride out across and on over the waves of the sea.
They’d nod at the long swimming whales and the dolphins,
And wondered where in the ocean all the sea cows could be.
On far shore they’d explore the dusty trails of elephants and warthogs,
Sometimes seeing giraffes, necks tall and tongues black.
They’d ride cross rivers teeming with crocodiles,
And marvel at the shapes of the baobab trees.
Yap liked to race with the antelope and cheetah
Who would bow to the pup with respect at her speed.
The gorillas would wave as the two rode through the jungle
The hippos they avoided, as they could be mean.
Then the day would grow late, and it was time to head westward
To where NoNap knew Ma would be setting chow down to eat,
Yap would gallop many miles in a minute,
And restore little NoNap to his place of no sleep.
And he’d open his eyes and see ma peering down,
And she’d ask, “How was the prairies and savannas of yer dreamin'?”
And NoNap would say proudly, "Didn’t nap, and I'm not even tired."
So Ma would pick him up with great big bear hug, while Pa flashed her a knowing quick wink.
A couple of weeks ago was Alice Louise's company's holiday party. The party was a full month after the holidays, and on a Thursday because the people that work with Alice Louise are very important and busy, so getting a majority of them together took two months and could only land on a Thursday. As a consequence of such a late holiday party, they decided to celebrate the closest holiday to the actual date, which turned out to be Cowboy Poetry Week. So all of the groups attending were asked to bring and recite a poem with a cowboy theme. Here was my entry: (Sorry if it's TL;DR)
The Long Ride of NoNap the Kid.
There once was a young cowboy named NoNap the kid.
He dressed in snap button shirts and cowhide chaps, and leather boots.
His pa gave him a bolo and belt with a big buckle.
His ma gave him a Stetson so the outfit was complete.
NoNap’s name was true, as he resisted every naptime.
His ma would put him down for siesta in his small wooden corral,
He would only fake close his eyes, counting the heartbeats,
And waiting for the echo of her footsteps to fade down the hall.
Then NoNap would grab his favorite roping lasso,
And would toss the end out of the window so high,
To where his mount, Yap was ever waiting to catch it
To hoist him up and out of his sleeping chamber to ride.
The Imperious Yap stood 15 inches to her shoulder
A black and white mutt with mighty shoulders and back.
She wore a saddle fashioned from duct tape, brown and tan crayons.
NoNap the Kid would ride her on every afternoon range.
NoNap and Yap would travel miles on the prairie,
Checking fences and minding the gathered herds of cattle and sheep.
They knew where to find that sheep that was straying.
And when they found her one yap would get her back on her way.
Sometimes they’d ride to where the prairie met the ocean,
And ride out across and on over the waves of the sea.
They’d nod at the long swimming whales and the dolphins,
And wondered where in the ocean all the sea cows could be.
On far shore they’d explore the dusty trails of elephants and warthogs,
Sometimes seeing giraffes, necks tall and tongues black.
They’d ride cross rivers teeming with crocodiles,
And marvel at the shapes of the baobab trees.
Yap liked to race with the antelope and cheetah
Who would bow to the pup with respect at her speed.
The gorillas would wave as the two rode through the jungle
The hippos they avoided, as they could be mean.
Then the day would grow late, and it was time to head westward
To where NoNap knew Ma would be setting chow down to eat,
Yap would gallop many miles in a minute,
And restore little NoNap to his place of no sleep.
And he’d open his eyes and see ma peering down,
And she’d ask, “How was the prairies and savannas of yer dreamin'?”
And NoNap would say proudly, "Didn’t nap, and I'm not even tired."
So Ma would pick him up with great big bear hug, while Pa flashed her a knowing quick wink.
That's all for today. Hope you all are having a healthier February than us.
Friday, January 10, 2014
A Start: New to Parenting, so Blog about it.
So why a blog? Well, a quick search of the Internet reveals that a majority of Stay at Home Dads (SAHDs) when they're not SAHDing write blogs. So, hey. I'm at a SAHD, therefore I must have interesting things to say about it. So a blog. Don't worry. Like most projects I'll move on soon enough and you won't have to read too much mindless drivel. As to the Title...I like the wooden toys that Robin has more than the other plastic beep and boop toys. I also like the idea of an uncut block being turned into a work of art, or something that can print a work of art, like those Japanese wood cut prints of tsunamis. My naive view is that parenting is creating the right impressions in your kid to obtain some art, or at least a good person. Wood Cut Block. Also my first choice was taken.
To the Blog-cave -->
I'm a new parent...well, not super new. I have like 7 months and change experience. Seven months as a stay at home dad and the kiddo is still alive. I must be doing something right...although he isn't quite crawling yet, so I probably can't take too much credit for keeping him out of harms way. We haven't really gotten around to "baby proofing" the house. I put up a baby gate between the dining room and the kitchen and at the foot of the stairs. But those improvements were more for my sister's benefit (and my two year old nephew). Wouldn't want him falling up the stairs you know. I have another baby gate ready to be installed at the top of the stairs, but somehow it never makes it to the top of my to do list. Come to think of it, making a to do list isn't high on my to do list.
Care for a baby is a lot more work than other parents let on before I was a parent. Well, they probably let on, but I couldn't hear the truth in what they were saying. It could also be that they didn't want to scare me off of having kids of my own so that they could enjoy the schadenfreude of another joining their ranks. I doubt it. I think they are mostly cheering themselves on, and so don't spend time being too down on their lot in life. And having a seven month old son is pretty awesome overall. He is a great-natured kid. But it takes a lot of time. Time that I used to have to screw around and get things done is long gone. It is really the time that I miss, like the time to write random flow of consciousness rambles about parenting. I'm sure I'm saying things other parents already know a thousand-fold and non-parents can only imagine like one imagines visiting Iceland. I know I didn't really have any idea what was in store. I still don't. But I do like Iceland.
Okay, so I did sort of have something I wanted to write about before this gloriously long nap comes to an end.
Last weekend my mom, my sister, and my wife had a girl's day out which involved a movie and shopping. So my brother in law and I took the boys for a boy's day out. We went to the downtown Denver Public Library and explored the children's library (awesome) and rode the escalators. I taught my nephew how to goose-step, which he picked up instantly and didn't understand the awkward laughs this evoked for us, ahum, adults.
Afterward we went to breakfast place around the corner called Dozens. It's a fun restaurant in an old Victorian house. We had a quiet meal, as quiet as a meal with a two year old can be, and a listened the self-important conversation of three twenty-something girls at the next table discussing who in their lives were JUDGED more. Pretty amusing stuff. Through it all, our waitress was pretty subdued. Then at the end of the meal she dropped of the check and complemented David and I on our sweet family.
We found this pretty amusing. My sister and I are often mistaken for husband and wife when we take the boys out for breakfast. But this was a new one. Alice Louise threatened to dress Robin up in his rainbow hoodie next time David and I took the boys out.
But on a serious note, thinking about it later. I think her reaction to our "family" says something positive about the acceptance of non-traditional family setups. Of course her basic assumption could have been different in a more conservative space, but I like that she thought we had a sweet family even though it would have been a family formed against more traditional mores.
Okay. Naps over, so is the Blog Post.
To the Blog-cave -->
I'm a new parent...well, not super new. I have like 7 months and change experience. Seven months as a stay at home dad and the kiddo is still alive. I must be doing something right...although he isn't quite crawling yet, so I probably can't take too much credit for keeping him out of harms way. We haven't really gotten around to "baby proofing" the house. I put up a baby gate between the dining room and the kitchen and at the foot of the stairs. But those improvements were more for my sister's benefit (and my two year old nephew). Wouldn't want him falling up the stairs you know. I have another baby gate ready to be installed at the top of the stairs, but somehow it never makes it to the top of my to do list. Come to think of it, making a to do list isn't high on my to do list.
Care for a baby is a lot more work than other parents let on before I was a parent. Well, they probably let on, but I couldn't hear the truth in what they were saying. It could also be that they didn't want to scare me off of having kids of my own so that they could enjoy the schadenfreude of another joining their ranks. I doubt it. I think they are mostly cheering themselves on, and so don't spend time being too down on their lot in life. And having a seven month old son is pretty awesome overall. He is a great-natured kid. But it takes a lot of time. Time that I used to have to screw around and get things done is long gone. It is really the time that I miss, like the time to write random flow of consciousness rambles about parenting. I'm sure I'm saying things other parents already know a thousand-fold and non-parents can only imagine like one imagines visiting Iceland. I know I didn't really have any idea what was in store. I still don't. But I do like Iceland.
Okay, so I did sort of have something I wanted to write about before this gloriously long nap comes to an end.
Last weekend my mom, my sister, and my wife had a girl's day out which involved a movie and shopping. So my brother in law and I took the boys for a boy's day out. We went to the downtown Denver Public Library and explored the children's library (awesome) and rode the escalators. I taught my nephew how to goose-step, which he picked up instantly and didn't understand the awkward laughs this evoked for us, ahum, adults.
Afterward we went to breakfast place around the corner called Dozens. It's a fun restaurant in an old Victorian house. We had a quiet meal, as quiet as a meal with a two year old can be, and a listened the self-important conversation of three twenty-something girls at the next table discussing who in their lives were JUDGED more. Pretty amusing stuff. Through it all, our waitress was pretty subdued. Then at the end of the meal she dropped of the check and complemented David and I on our sweet family.
We found this pretty amusing. My sister and I are often mistaken for husband and wife when we take the boys out for breakfast. But this was a new one. Alice Louise threatened to dress Robin up in his rainbow hoodie next time David and I took the boys out.
But on a serious note, thinking about it later. I think her reaction to our "family" says something positive about the acceptance of non-traditional family setups. Of course her basic assumption could have been different in a more conservative space, but I like that she thought we had a sweet family even though it would have been a family formed against more traditional mores.
Okay. Naps over, so is the Blog Post.
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