Madness...

Hangin' with Daddy...

It was a guys’ night in yesterday, as my wife went out to dinner with some friends from out of town.  The little man and I played some poker, ate some fried chicken, and lounged around the house while watching a little college hoops.  It was a great time, just the two of us, being guys and chewing the fat until bath time rolled around.   Then things went downhill rather quickly... 

Let The Good Times Roll...

These days I’m starting to feel like a real parent.  Routines are being established as we use what works and scrap the rest along with the leaky diapers. The little guy is doing his part to help out, voicing his opinion with shrieks and shrills that we have learned to interpret as yays or nays.

He’s alert and wild at times, with feet that kick like a pint sized ninja and arms that flap like wings.  And when he’s hungry, watch out, the world will hear about it.

But eating can be tricky, he gets distracted by all of the jaw-dropping things going on around him.  There’s that AMAZING picture of the dog on the wall.  And let’s take a moment to drool over that captivating lamp on the end table.  His eyes dart around the room, focusing on any and everything but the task at hand.  He’s a busy little guy and often doesn’t always have time to stare at Daddy.  But when I do grab his attention it makes for a great moment.  Like the other day when I came to rescue him from his swing he gave me a great big smile that said,

“Boy am I glad to see you!”

He’s already interacting with us on a regular basis.  He laughs when I tickle him and follows me with his eyes as I dance around the room like an idiot. He’s very much into mom’s rendition of the itsy bitsy spider song.  His face lights up as he follows along with mounting anticipation as the clouds break and the drama unfolds... 

“Out comes the sun….”

“Wow!”  His face screams, and I try to imagine what’s going through his little head, maybe something like:  “That spider sure has some resolve.  I mean to get washed out like that you would think he’d give up.  But nooo way, as sure as the sun comes out he’s back at it again!“

It’s the coolest thing he’s ever seen. He watches her with the intensity of a professional wrestler drinking a monster energy drink.  I mean, he’s really into it. It’s his watershed moment.  His moon landing, his Ali-Frazier, his Oj in the white Bronco, his Honey Boo Boo season finale. His--well you get the picture, he really likes it.

He’s a lot of work, but a lot of fun these days. Just watching our weight gaining, smiling, gurgling, laughing, kicking and flailing bundle of activity can be exhausting.  And as his personality begins to emerge I'm predicting some lively times down the road.

And I’m doing my part, being proactive as ever.  When mom’s not around, and he begins to coo and call, I help him along with the sounds of his first word: DAD-DY.

Fighting it...

I think a lot about age these days.  At 37 I’m in that gray area (I refuse to say middle age) where I’m no longer a young guy, but I’m not old.  Sure, the kids at the mall (or wherever they hang out) may disagree with that statement, but still, I’m not old.    

 

I’m also not quite sure where all the time went, it seems like yesterday that I was in my twenties and doing things that would make older me scowl and shake my head on my morning commute.

I still have my health, but as I found out over the weekend, these days there are some limits. 

I was invited to play in a charity basketball tournament.  Four games in two days, doesn’t sound like much. Our first game would be at 10 Am on Saturday, I arrived at the gym alert and chipper.  Bouncing through lay-up drills like a kid.

After the first game (we won!), I felt good and ready to do it again. After the second (we won again!), I was still okay, but breathing heavily and sucking down water.  On the way home that evening, age set in.  Old people thoughts entered my mind.  I thought about stopping for some Bengay or Icy Hot, and was contemplating the upside of using a walker.  I took a shower and changed into pajamas and then looked at the clock.  5:30. Wow.

With a grunt, I scooped the little guy into my arms and watched the much younger college kids on television for the rest of the evening, wincing every time I stood up and my back ached or an ankle popped.

The next day, I took two aspirin, as my ankles were still hurting and my back was a bit stiff, and I’m sure my wife was tired of me whining.  Back at the gym, we won the semifinal game in dramatic fashion on a last second shot.  The championship game wasn’t for three hours, so I limped around the house in an effort to stay loose, and even managed to take the dogs for their run because well, I’m an idiot.

Our luck ran out in the championship game, as we lost in an overtime thriller--at least for the 6 people in attendance--but I left it all out on the floor, and it wasn’t until Tuesday that I fully recovered.

I fell into the car, drove home, and once again was in my pajamas before the sun went down.  No shame.

Maybe it’s stubbornness, but I will continue to fight off age for the rest of my days, running up hills and skipping stairs while I'm able to do so. And for all of the soreness and limping, as we posed for our second place trophy pictures I was asked if I was playing next year.

Of course I am.

Where to, Son?

I often think about the places I want to take my son, and all of the things I want teach him.  But it hadn’t occurred to me where he may take me and what I may learn from him. 

He has already significantly expanded my comfort zone, and this is only the beginning.  Two months ago I had never held a baby for longer than it takes to snap a picture, these days it's the most natural thing I know.  Every morning I hold him against my chest, lifting my head so he can nuzzle his head under my neck just the way he likes. 

As a father, I have as much to learn from this growing ball of boy as I have to teach.  Every day, he’s letting me know what I’m doing wrong, and I’ve learned by trial and error what makes him tick.  So what else will he teach me?  Just this morning I learned a new color upon opening up my son's diaper. Not sure I'll be seeing that one in a Crayola box anytime soon.  

So where to today? Or tomorrow?  I have a feeling that he will have me doing things I never thought possible. For instance, a few days after he was born I felt weird carrying a breast pump machine through the halls of the hospital.  If I only knew what was coming.

Watching him smile and wiggle and grow I know that this part of the journey that I thought would be so long and arduous is actually happening all too fast.  Today I’m holding his tiny little bottom in my arms and tomorrow I’ll be helping him learn the alphabet.  And then Spanish homework, or basketball practice, maybe I’ll even coach, who knows?

Right now, I still can’t believe that he’s here, and that I helped create him. It all seems too amazing.