Deep Musing Over Lego

He turns from the table where he's been building Lego with deep concentration. 

Very casually, he asks "Dada. Is today the last day before I'm going to die?" 

There are questions you expect to hear. I hear "Why?" hundreds upon hundreds of times a day. 

That one I didn't expect.

"Are you going to die Dada? Are we going to die?"

A slot machine reel with a million different answers suddenly starts spinning in my head. 

It lands on "I hope not."

In keeping with never lying to him, it is an honest statement. 

I mean, I know that one day we will. I know that we're unlikely to end up finding the secret to eternal life, the holy grail will still elude us. With some of the people in the world right now, I'm not sure that would be a good thing if we did find it. 

Do I need to explain that just because I know it?

I'll settle on 'No'.

Very honestly, I never want to leave them, even though I know it's an inescapable fact. 

So we'll stay with "I hope not." for now.

One day, I'll need to give him a real answer. One day we'll lose somebody and he'll need to know why. 

Today is not that day. 

Let the little man keep his innocence for now. Answer the question direct and hope he moves on. Deeper answers are for another day.

Convos With K

Conversations on shoulders 

K: Dada!

J: Yeah?

K: ZZZZZZ

K: Dada! The wind... Zzzzzz.

J: You asleep bud?

K: Dada! The wind is blowing my eyes shut.

J: Likely story bud.

Self

I've realized lately that I spend remarkably little time now paying any attention at all to myself.

In the midst of getting the kids up and dressed and fed and shoed and finding snacks and milk and getting out the door... I'm lucky if I've remembered to put clothes on myself.

Now admittedly, so far the neighbors haven't seen me randomly naked outdid my door... But I'm not completely sure that day is not coming.

As it is, often my hair fits the idea of 'crazy-overworked-barelyholdingontohismind-Dad'

(I'm probably not most of those things... Maybe a little crazy... Definitely a Dad)

Eventually, I'll see my reflection in a window or puddle or something of the diet and go for a quick and half assed correction on it.

But it matters less and less all the time.

Soon I'll just wear pajamas wherever I go. It's about my comfort and sanity... Everyone else be dammed.

As long as the kids get out the door that is.

Three Nights

I did one night by myself last week. One night it was just me and the kids. No backup. No Mama.

The power of the boobs was absent.

And I'll say... By the time morning came, I was tired... I was questioning my sanity... I was so glad to see Mama come home, it was ridiculous.

So... To follow that up... One week later, I'm going for three nights in a row.

I usually stay quite optimistic, but even having said that, I don't expect to have much sanity left come Saturday morning.

The boy is off with Grandma for two nights. He was never the issue on this one though.

The girl... At five months old... Is pretty much what I worry about.

Sleep. I worry about sleep.

Ear plugs. I might just have to put headphones on while I cuddle with a crying little elf.

She is wonderful. She is happy. She is adorable.

In the middle of the night though, when she should be sleeping... It's a little challenging to remember those things.

It'll be alright.

I'll be ok.

If I'm still able to form words by Saturday morning, I'll take that as a win.

The First Night Alone With The Five Month Old...

J: Ahhh you're asleep. It's 10pm. All is good in the world!

N: *11:05pm* WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

J: *11:30pm* Ahhh you're asleep. All is good in the world.

N: *1:15am* WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

J: *groggy* Please go back to sleep...

*time passes* *screams increase*

J: *2:00am* Please... go the f*ck to sleep....

*time passes* *sanity lets go*

J: I hate this. I can never do this again. This isn't good. I'm not ready. She's not ready. ARGHHHHH!

N: *2:30ish* ZZZZZZZZZ

J: *2:30ish* ZZZZZZZZZ

N: *6:04am* WAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

J: *snaps awake* OH F*CK NO!

J: *espresso #1*

J: *espresso #2*

N: *coos and giggles at Dada*

J: Alright. All is forgiven.

The power of a coo and a giggle from your little girl... If bottled up somehow, could likely save the earth.

Living in a world of assumptions

It amuses me when I get passed over in conversation as being just the Dad.

If there's a woman within ten feet of me, regardless of age, all questions go to her.

Today for instance, we were doing our regular family lunch. The waitress felt free to ask my sister (who was sitting next to me) if she 'could hold the baby'... Who happened to be in the Tula on my chest.

Two things at play here. One... No. I don't know you, the baby doesn't know you. I don't care that you have a six year old. I'm not in the habit of handing off my child to a random stranger. Secondly, my sister wouldn't be in a position to give you that permission regardless as well... She's not a mother.

Then, before we leave the restaurant, still with N on my chest, someone has the wisdom to offer my sister congratulations.

Now, no offense to my sister (she'd be the first to tell you) but she's not the child bearing type.

I was out at playtime one morning and a Greek woman who was on her 60's came over to see the baby. As people do. Within a few minutes, people were asking her if the baby was hers.

I understand, to an extent, with my sister. However, this woman was well past any child bearing age. I had to repeat myself three times in that case before the woman who was asking accepted the simple words I was saying.

"No, she's mine."

I understand that I'm in the minority. I understand that society says "Men are the breadwinners. Women raise the kids."

Unfortunately, like with so many things, society is wrong.

So, if you see a hairy guy with a baby on his chest, intently watching a three year old charging all over the place... You can assume that I am their father. What you can't assume is that any random woman within five feet of me is their mother.

Assume that there is more than meets the eye before you make an ass of u and not me.

I got in a fight this week.

Wasn't physical. No fists were thrown.

Yet in the end, it was more painful than if I had been bruised or bloodied.

It also reminded me a simple lesson. You can love people but even with that, they don't need to be a part of your life.

It was a simple matter to me and one that is really common sense. The family member that did it though didn't see it that way.

It started with a picture. Posted on social media. That this family member had taken.

A crying child obviously overwhelmed at a public event.

Not a child he knew. A stranger's child. In a single moment of space and time. Distressed.

Then he asked people to judge it.

I saw this. On a couple of different levels I got angry.

As things went on, I got really angry.

He stated that he was just having a discussion. Letting people air their thoughts. Almost everyone of these thoughts was "Horrible parenting! Child abuse!" Each of these thoughts was also pretty much by well off Caucasian people who hadn't had an infant in over twenty years.

My argument was simple. They had absolutely no right or business in having that conversation. He had absolutely no right to take a picture of a stranger's child (or any child) and put it on social media without the express permission of that child's parent.

They didn't see it that way. I ended up defending my point of view angrily and yet still somewhat diplomatically against both people I know and love and people I don't know and couldn't care less about.

Through the course of the argument, I explained my reasoning. All I got back were little childish swipes. So in the end, I deleted the family member from my Facebook feed and left it at that.

That wasn't an easy decision. This is the first time in my life this guy has disappointed me.

But it was a big disappoint.

I know people change. Constantly. Every day. That great memories of who we were twenty or thirty years ago are exactly that... Memories.

If that is who he is today, it's not energy I want as part of my life. That's a sad statement, but I can only imagine how much amplified my anger would have been if it was my own child in the picture.

I believe in people. I believe in family. With that, I hope he'll come around and realize he was way off base.

On the other hand though, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't.