Shark Bait.... Ooo.. Ha Ha...

     The fact that I saw, Tall Stack the moment she was born, and the fact that she is a much prettier version of me is enough to prove that I am her father.  But, what really sealed the deal was, last Saturday, she won a goldfish at the school carnival and named him, "Frank"  All of the other neighborhood kids named their fish traditional names like, Rainbow, or Bubbles.  Nope, my kid named hers, Frank.  I love it.  I find a lot of humor in giving animals, people names.  So Frank was just perfect.

     We all remember being nine.  The anticipation and excitement of tossing that ping pong ball into the yellow cup of water and winning that cute little goldfish.  You can't wait to get him home and into that bowl.  You can't wait to feed him and watch him grow.  Such high hopes we had, didn't we?

     Reliving this experience as the parent, knowing what the end result will be is a pretty uncomfortable place to be.  As if some sick and painful right of passage that we cannot avoid looms on the horizon.  We pray to God that that ping pong ball will bounce off the rim of that cup and end up on the ground.  We hope that the face painting booth next door will divert the kid's attention.  Of course this prayer on this day is answered.  It just isn't the answer that we were hoping for.  The look on her face when she won, Frank was priceless.  She was so excited and couldn't wait to get him home.  The Boss and I gave each other that look.  We agreed without words to let this blissful moment commence without warning that within days, 3 at the most, we will be conducting a tearful ceremony over the toilet in the downstairs bathroom.

     3 days came and went.  Frank continued to do laps in his bowl as the rest of the neighborhood fish were dropping like flies.  He has the heart of a lion, I thought.  He is going to defeat the odds.  4 days and still going strong.  "You are a warrior, Frank."  I actually said this to him through the glass although I'm sure he didn't hear me over the swoosh of the water streaking past his head as he circled the bowl with lightning speed.

     Day 5 was met with much different results.  The laps around the bowl had ceased.  The interest in life was gone.  The offers of food, ignored.  I was there when, Frank gasped his last breath of Target brand distilled water.  The boss and I agreed that we must get rid of him before, Tall Stack got home from school.

     "Who once came from the sea, must return to the sea."  These were the words I spoke as I pressed the brushed steel handle of the downstairs toilet.  And just like that, Frank was gone.

     It's these moments of parenthood that make us appreciate our parents a little more.  They make us love our kids a little more.  And they make us wonder what lessons can be learned about life and death.  Does surviving a mildly broken heart really make us stronger?  I hope for, Tall Stack's sake that it does.   

    

   

The Uterine Walls Are Closing In

     Dammit, I crack myself up...

     OK, let me preface tonight's post by saying that nothing in this life gives me more joy than being the father of my two girls, "The Stacks," one short and one tall, as they've come to be known.  Not to mention, "The Boss," who after ten years of marriage still makes me feel like the luckiest guy in town.

BE THAT AS IT MAY.......

     Living in this estrogen abundant environment does not come without its dangers and challenges.  Oh, I stand at the top of my stairs in the morning like a mature Simba, watching over my kingdom... The golden locks of my mane blowing in the artificial wind created by the air conditioner vent just over my left shoulder.  Truth be told, my locks are more of a strawberry blond but let's face it, that doesn't have quite the same dramatic effect.  The pride below hardly gives me half a glimpse as a reminder that I am but a figurehead and that they, and only they truly rule the roost.  Sometimes, when I turn my  back to them , I hear their failed attempts at a silent giggle.  I hardly make a fuss though, not because I'm weak but because I have learned to choose my battles wisely.

     From time to time, when it feels as if the uterine walls are closing in around me. When I can't take the sound of a crying "Short Stack" for one more second. Or when I can't sit and watch Riding in Cars With Boys for the 100th time.  "The Boss" will send me out to do what the women in this family call, Weenie welding."  It's not as painful as it sounds, don't worry.  Directly translated it means, "Go hang out with the boys."  Sometimes that means a round of golf, or a night of fishing out on the pier.  More recently, it means going outside with the neighbors.  The neighbor to the left, we'll call him "Techy" he's a gadget guy.  The neighbor to the right, we'll call, "Reverend".  He's not really a reverend, but he can quote scripture like Billy Graham is his daddy.  We have some of the greatest times just hanging out in front of the house in our little cul de sac. We talk about guy crap.  We bitch about girl crap.  We reassure each other that everything is going to be just fine.  We drink a beer or two. Then we break our huddle and go back to our families with refueled jets. 

The moral of the story is..... Bosses, let your men weenie weld for a bit.  It's good for him.  It's good for you.  And it's good for the overall wellness of the family.  Don't you agree? 

           

Letters From Insomnia

     What do you do when you have taken inventory of your sheep over and over and over again and you still can't seem to fall asleep?  For seven, count them seven nights, I have had this issue.  Not only have I been struggling to sleep, I have also had a hard time trying to find something to write about.  So after the third night of tossing and turning with nothing really weighing on my mind, I began to take note of my worthless thoughts and started jotting them down on the moist in one corner, bar napkin in my brain.  The following are some of the highlights that I thought might be worth sharing.  These are all true thoughts.  Some of them are so off the wall that you simply could not make them up.  And in no particular order, here we go.

     "Oh my, it feels good to be in bed.  It's 3AM, why am I still awake?  I wish there was a Kleenex within arms length, I'd get rid of this nose goblin that bounces to and fro with every breath I take.  If I picked it and flicked it at the TV, I bet I could make the nanny named Fran (yeah we're Nick at Nite people) look like she has a beauty mark on her cheek.  But then when it goes to commercial, I'll still have a booger on my TV.  Better not do that."  At that point, I actually laughed out loud.  "I hope "The Boss" doesn't wake up.  Ooh, "The Boss."   If I grab her boob, do you think she'll wake up?  Probably!  Her alarm is gonna go off in an hour.  Grabbing her boob at this hour isn't romantic, it's fuckin' rude.  Hey, there's cold pizza in the fridge.  Yeah but that's way down stairs.  If I had the energy to go way down stairs, then I could walk ten steps to the bathroom to get the Kleenex that would get rid of the nose goblin that I have already considered lobbing at Fran Drescher.  More work than it's worth"...........................WOP WOP WOP WOP WOP WOP WOP, "You're a jerk, Alarm.  Only three hours of sleep, give or take."  Time to get "Tall Stack" off to school and then entertain "Short Stack" until 10:30 when "The Boss" gets home. 

     Do you ever have trouble sleeping?  Are your thoughts during those wasted hours as weird as mine?  Please, tell me I'm not alone.  Tell me I'm not absolutely insane.  It's 2:51 AM as I close out this morning's post.  I have to be up in 3 1/2 hours.  Time to head up to bed.  Duck and cover Ms. Fine.            
    

I'm A Survivor

     "The Boss" and I recently got new phones.  Smart phones which make life a lot easier.  These phones could be compared to, (and I know I am dating myself when I say this) when the microwave oven and the VCR were first introduced.  Once you have these things, you wonder how you ever lived without them.  So a couple of weeks ago, I was checking my calendar on this new smart phone. A phone so smart that it has synced to "The Boss'" calendar as well.  This is a cool feature that makes sure that we are always on the same page.  That's when the panic was embedded deep within the fibers of my soul.  There it was. September 18:  Mother/Daughter sleep over.  This could only mean one thing.  I was going to have to endure a night alone with "Short Stack," my 19 month old daughter with the body of a pixy and the strong will of a Grizzly Bear. The fear was that kind you feel when you are changing the radio station in your car, only to look up and notice that the car in front of you has stopped. That split second of terror you feel is how I have felt for 2 weeks.

     With Short Stack down for her nap, The Boss and Tall Stack escaped for their girls night out without incident.  I got about an hour of down time before I heard the roar coming from behind the closed door at the top of the stairs. "MAAAAMA!"  It was go time, I had no choice but to go in there.  Maybe if I avoid eye contact, it wont be aggressive toward me.  My approach was slow and calculated.  I opened the door only to find a smiling face peering back at me.  We went down stairs, I made dinner, we played, I gave her a bath, we played some more and I put her to bed.  Not one tear, not one tantrum from either one of us.  It was a really pleasant night.  Much like the Great white Shark and the Grizzly Bear, I think that the toddler is just a misunderstood creature.  They are not by nature aggressive nor do they have malice in their hearts.  Through further research, I am hoping to prove this theory.  But until then I shall bask in the glory of being a survivor.

Just Dive In!

     I am a man with lofty aspirations.  I make big plans to do big things, and when I make such plans, I intend to see them through.  Coincidentally, I am also the mayor of Procrastinationville.  As you may have read from my previous posts, I was going to climb the mountain behind my house, I was going to write a book, (a book the people were sure to read), and I was going to win a camera in a weight loss contest against, "The Boss."  While these plans simmer on the back burner like a watched pot, I occasionally add  a pinch of good reason and a dash of excuses to spice up this cauldron of underachievement.   

     Recently, the Grand Daddy of all plans came about.  I, along with a couple of my good friends decided we were going to be scuba divers. We hired an instructor, we read the books, we passed our written exams, and we spent all day on Labor Day in the pool learning how to use our equipment.  Then on Wednesday, we actually dove in the Pacific Ocean.  Let me tell you what diving 35 feet under the surface of the Pacific Ocean does to a person.  Initially, it scares the living shit out of you since we're being completely honest here. Once you're done peeing in your wetsuit and the fear subsides, the beauty and tranquility, the power and vastness really put into perspective how small we are in the overall scheme of things.  I came out of the water with such a sense of accomplishment and a renewed appreciation for what this life has given me.  Not to mention, I actually followed through on something for a change.  

     I still plan to climb that mountain behind my house.  And once I find my pen (creative vibe to write), I will get back to work on writing something worth reading. Of course I will need to stop procrastinating too.  Starting next week! 

     This post isn't my best work but it sure is fun to be writing again.  I missed you guys. 

         

A New Seed Is Planted

As you know from my previous post, we have moved into an apartment across town from our home which we have had to relinquish to the bank.  What originally seemed like a financial no brainer has turned into a case of complete isolation from our friends, our community and everything else that is important to us.  We have not begun to unpack any of our boxes.  I don't even know where most of my clothes are, nor do I have any intention of trying to locate them.  

A couple of weeks ago, "The Boss" went to our house to pick up a few things that we need to add to the clutter of our tiny abode.  She was gone for less than an hour when the following text conversation began.  THE BOSS:  "The house between Wendy and Gina is for rent."  (Wendy and Gina and their families live just around the corner from our house.)  ME: "Oh yeah?  I wish we would have known that before we moved to this little apartment."  THE BOSS:  "I want that house!"  ME: "Me too but we signed a lease here and it will cost a lot to break that lease.  Not to mention the security deposit and first months rent on the new place."  THE BOSS:  "I want that house."  ME: "This is not a conversation to have via text messaging.  We will talk about it when you get home."

Needless to say, it was a short conversation that took place when she got home.  When we moved into this little apartment across town, we took "Tall Stack" (our oldest daughter who just turned nine this month) out of her home, out of her school district and away from her friends.  So, two cashiers checks, one broken lease and one freshly signed contract later, we are on the move again.  Like a band of gypsies, we are packing up our gear and heading out of here after just over a month.  

You might be wondering if this makes any sense financially.  I asked myself this same question about 1000 times.  Here's the thing though.  Keeping "Tall Stack" in her school, living in between two amazing families who are dear friends of ours and not seeing "The Boss" cry every night because she feels so guilty about moving over here in the first place.  These reasons are not something that you can slap a price tag on.   

So we aren't going home, but we are getting as close to home as we can possibly get and we are looking forward to the BBQs with friends and neighbors.  We are looking forward to having space to put all of our stuff again.  But most of all we are looking forward to seeing "Tall Stack" return to her school that she loves so much. 

It doesn't always seem to make sense at the time, but things really do happen for I reason.  It's taken me 36 years to finally believe that.  Do you believe it too?

  

 

My Tree Has Been Chopped Down

     So in the past several months, things haven't gone according to the plan that "The Boss" and I had laid out for our family.  Due to several medical bills and other unexpected expenses of being alive, we found it more and more difficult to keep up with our monthly house payment.  7 months of jumping through the flaming hoops of our mortgage company to get our loan modified, they denied us because we make too much money.  As it turns out, we make too much money to do a short sale too.  So we decided to walk away from our house and move into an apartment  so that we can have a fresh start and actually be able to enjoy our lives instead of working our asses off only to be in the red at the end of every month.  The sense of failure and overwhelming damage to the ego of a man who is supposed to be the protector and provider for his family is not easy to put into words.

     Yesterday was my first day back to work after taking a few days off to get us moved into the new apartment.  As you can imagine, I spent a good portion of the day feeling sorry for myself as I hosted a rager of a pity party in my own mind while on the outside I had to manage people and maintain a professional and positive attitude.  Late in the day, I ran into an employee who used to work for me but who now works in a different department.  We will call him Ruben, because Ruben is his name.  I haven't seen Ruben for a while so it was nice to see him.  We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, and that's when it happened.  He said to me in his very deep Guatemalan accent, "Ju fine what choo loose."  "What?" "Ju Fine what choo loose."  "What do you mean?"  "Joor getteen big agang."

     This time last year, I lost about 25 pounds and was looking pretty good.  I have gained almost all of that weight back and I was already feeling like a big fat loser.  I could have done without a comment like that.  He is absolutely right though.  I did indeed fine what I loose.

     As tough as things may seem and as homesick and cut down as I might  feel,  my beautiful wife and daughters are happy and healthy.  That really is all that matters to me.  As long as we are together, no matter where we are, we're home.  That alone is what will get me through this with my sanity.  That and dragging my fat ass through the P90X program again.