Friday, August 26, 2011

A Day in a Life


Being a dad is pretty cool. How cool? Very. Especially if you have the great fortune to be the parent of the most wonderful baby in the world. Here are some snapshots of this little miracle so the rest of the world can share in this blessing.

#1: Food is good. Food is a very, very good thing.

#2: Sleep is good. Sleep is very very good. OK, maybe this isn't #2, but I figured I'd skip #2 even though #2 is a BIG part of his day.

#3: Daddy time is a good thing. Especially for Daddy.

#4: Daddy has other wonderful things in his life.

#5: Bed time. I love singing to him, dancing with him, loving on him. Last night, during this pic, I sang...

Close your eyes,
Have no fear,
The monsters gone,
He's on the run and your daddy's here,

Beautiful,
Beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful Boy,

Before you go to sleep,
Say a little prayer,
Every day in every way,
It's getting better and better,

Beautiful,
Beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful Boy...

It rained a little last night. Distant thunder. I woke a few times, fed my son. Even did a little house work at 1:30. And when he began to fuss at 5:30, I had the privilege of sharing with him the morning air, fresh from the night showers. He ate breakfast on the back deck, feeling the breeze on his face, hearing the rustle of leaves...


Momma thinks I'm crazy, and threatens to take pictures of me tearing around the house with the dog in my shorts. Little does she know that such a threat doesn't bother me! HA!

"Honey Bunny.... Don't you dare! You're in big trouble mister!"
But she can't resist my silliness...
So.... after getting some coffee into her I talk her into going to the park... 6:00 a.m. is a wonderful part of the day!


See?! Very enjoyable!

Now for some breakfast!


Monday, August 15, 2011

Doctor Visit Today


There was a measure heading for the Fall ballots in San Francisco, but it was struck down by the courts.

Proponents of the measure decry male circumcision as barbaric, unnecessary, and a mutilation (circum meaning "around" and cædere meaning "to cut").


We are taking our son in for the procedure in an hour.


It makes me uneasy, the idea of inflicting any pain, or even discomfort, on my son.


So why do it?


I could point to a recent study which indicates that circumcision makes it more difficult to contract AIDS. That really isn’t a motive for me, but there are other health arguments and they do carry a little weight.


The measure was tossed because it virtually attacks those of the Jewish faith who are required to do this.


Though my faith does not require it, there is something about the way this practice was given to Abraham, father of three world religions, and he was instructed to do this not only to all male members (unfortunate pun there) of his family, but also those in his employ (and my son is ticked because a potential employer wanted him to cut his hair!).


It may not be a big deal but it does prompt a little introspection in me (doesn’t everything?).


So, partly from tradition, partly from spiritual/theological reasons, partly from health, and partly because I feel it to just feel right, we are getting my son ready for a trip to the doctor to get his pencil sharpened.


============


Just got home from the doc's Everything OK. He didn't even cry, though he doesn't seem very happy.


Just before they worked on him I told him I wouldn't love him any less, even though he was. (Pediatrics humor)


Sunday, August 7, 2011

Blessed


There has been at least four posts I have begun, but life has been going so fast, I have been so busy, things have changed so quickly, that by the time I had written but half of it, it was out dated.


I haven’t time to fully share, to fully explain the joy, wonder, growth, and change, but I’ll do what I can.


My son is nine days old.



He’s little. Born seven pounds three ounces, he lost a little over 10% of his weight in the first few days, which concerned me. From watching nature films I’ve seen baby deer born and they stand right up and suckle and all is good. Humans are different. The babies need to learn how to suckle, mothers need to learn how to feed. He’s gained a couple of ounces and I feel more relaxed and sure he is going to be fine.


He’s a very good baby. The most he’s cried was during the first ten minutes of his life. He makes little noises when he is hungry or needs changing. He might fuss a little indicating he wants to be held, but he can be put back down again and he does not insist he be held until he is asleep.


I whip out my phone and snap pictures of him all the time. It may be typical to believe my son is atypical, but I don’t care. I know he is the most beautiful child to have ever been born.


I got a series of pictures during his first set of hiccups. The look on his face is hilarious. He is so obviously baffled, and a little freaked, at what is happening. At a certain age every new experience is a strange one.


First Hiccups





Today was the first time we took him to church. My sweet wife says I was an obviously proud papa, showing him off to everybody who would hold still.


My wife had to have a C section. I’m glad it spared her the pain of child birth, but I wish she wasn’t so uncomfortable with the healing. I’ve given her strict instructions to do nothing around the house, but she still sneaks in a few small chores now and then.


That reminds me... My wife is pretty special. My first wife was a bit of a control freak. It was difficult for both of us many times. Now, my new spouse, my new best friend, my new partner for the rest of this life, is so different from any other woman I have known.


Part of what makes her different might be unseemly to those who fly the feminist flag. She insists I be the head of our home.


It’s a startling experience.


It means I must “man up” in lots of ways. It means I must lead, and I must put her first. I must make all my decisions knowing they must be for her good, and the good of my child.


It means I must have vision.


It means I must be gentle, kind, loving, be willing to sacrifice.


Somehow, in insisting on this traditional role, she helps me to be the man God created me to be.


I’ve been a little manic in working around the house. The orange paint I put in the living room to help my sons deal with the divorce has been replaced with taste... (Oh! The little stub on his navel just fell off!!! Life is full of these little milestones right now.) ...ful green and brown, the funky light fixtures replaced with something tasteful, grownup. The old wood stove was dragged out, and I hammered out the brick, removed the carpet, and put down a nice laminate. Did the same for the spare room. It’s now a tasteful yellow, or rather, “Banana Cream” with white molding and a laminate I got from a friend’s damaged kitchen. I went a little crazy trimming trees and bushes and have a huge pile of branches that I need to deal with. The list goes on and on and on. Feels good to sweat for my family.


So... my house has been transformed into a home. My marriage has been changed into a family.


My mind has been working over time. I’ve been reading scripture more than ever, praying more than ever, and looking up obscure facts more than ever. (For example, knowing that the visible universe is 13.75 billion light years in every direction, which means that it has been expanding for nearly 14 billion years, so... how big is it today? the breadth of it that cannot be seen because the distances are too great? Answer: at least 40 billion light years across. I like that. Another question answered! Example: what is that little divot under the nose? Answer: the philtrum. Who was the Ethiopian Emperor who shamed the League of Nations and is considered by the Rastafarians as the second incarnation of Christ? Answer: Halle Selasse.)


I feel like I’ve been supercharged.


I guess I have been.


I’ve been charged with being the best husband, the best father, the best man I can be.


It feels wonderful.


My ex has been in contact with me a little over issues dealing with our sons. (One son has had some more medical issues arise.) She has tried just a little to play the old mind games with me, but I am quite comfortable in drawing the lines wherever I please and I don’t mind if she finds them uncomfortable.


I guess I got used to being a little sad all the time. It has taken a while to relax, smile more.


There are a lot of challenges ahead.


The school I have taught at for 13 years has been closed so I am now assigned to something very different, it is going to be a challenge. I’m sure it will be invigorating, and a source of much professional growth, but it is still going to be a challenge.


My son is going to be a challenge. I have all the tasks ahead of me that a good parent faces.



My marriage is going to be a challenge. I intend to be the best husband I can be. Strong. Protective. Encouraging. Loving. Sacrificing. A good steward. Have vision.


My wife brings me such joy. My son brings me such joy.


I find myself filling more fulfilled than I have in longer than I can recall.


I am blessed.


Undeservedly, excessively, joyfully and totally, blessed.