The Mother's Day Paradox

I know, you are sitting there thinking "Come on Pat, Mother's Day isn't until Sunday!" Yes, I know. But, like so many of you out there, I don't anticipate having a single free minute this weekend, let alone time to sit and commiserate over a well-thought Mother's Day blog post. And for those of you sitting there thinking "You can write it ahead of time and schedule the post to go live on Sunday!" well you are just a smart ass and can shut that mouth of yours.

Every February when Valentine's Day creeps up us, there's a dedicated group of individuals that cry foul and make sure to broadcast their distaste for the holiday.

"It's a fake holiday!"

"It was created by the greeting card companies!"

"It's a crappy holiday if you aren't with somebody!"

"Why can't St. Patrick's Day just be moved up a month so I can get wasted and have Shamrock Shakes sooner!"

Totally valid points. But really, isn't Mother's Day the same sort of contrived holiday? Now before all you Moms out there form a pitchfork and torch-carrying lynch mob, let me say that I feel the same way about Father's Day. And for legitimate, heartfelt reasons, believe it or not!

The history of Mother's Day in North America is actually a pretty strange one. It was first conceptualized by Julia Ward Howe in 1870, who wrote a 'Mother's Day Proclamation' calling for women to join together in a peaceful movement to stop their sons from killing one another in wars.

Now Mother's Day as WE know it was started in 1908 by Anna M. Jarvis in honor of her mother and later signed into national observance by Woodrow Wilson in 1914. Interestingly enough, as time went on and commercialization of the holiday began, Jarvis fought it tooth and nail. She even sued to stop a Mother's Day event in 1923, and was arrested in the 1930's for protesting the sale of flowers at another event.

But here we are, almost 95 years after Jarvis' first Mother's Day, and it's nothing BUT commercialization. Mother's Day cards, Mother's Day flowers, Mother's Day restaurant specials, the 93% off-plus-$20 bonus bucks-and-a-free-tote-bag Mother's Day Sale at JC Penney; it's all a bit much, and probably has Anna Jarvis steamrolling in her grave, ready to send Gloria Allred after all of us.

My other qualm with Mother's Day is the sheer emotional, mental and physical logistics of it. As a kid, Mother's Day is easy. All you really have to worry about is your mom. You slather some rotini in gold paint in Art class, thread it with some yarn and BOOM! you are about to make your mom's year. Beat THAT shit, Dad!

But as you get older, it becomes so much more. Once I turned 18 and as I grew up, I REALLY learned what it meant to appreciate my mother and the many years of love and lessons that she bestowed upon us. Suddenly a spaghetti tennis bracelet just doesn't do the trick anymore.

Not only that, but it stops just being your mom that you think about. For those of us who have children, the amazing work our wives/girlfriends/significant others do as mothers is insanely important. Plus, our mothers then become grandmothers and deserve dual appreciation. And then there are some of us that also include our grandmothers, godmothers, etc. into the mix and it suddenly becomes a struggle to show heartfelt appreciation for multiple people in a 24 hour period (and that's if you don't sleep). Yikes!

Anna Jarvis bout to get legal on yo ass.

Look, don't get me wrong. I love nothing more than showing my wife and mom signs of appreciation and letting them know how special they are to me. But I almost look at it as an injustice to THEM to try to cram it into a day or half-day's worth of events that has to meet the Kay Jewelers commercial standard of what Mother's Day is.

My wife is an absolutely incredible mother. I look at her like the LeBron James of parenting. And by that, I don't mean I anticipate her announcing that she's going to be taking her mothering skills elsewhere. But as someone who became a mother fairly young, it is truly jaw-dropping how great she is at it. From day one, she has shown the most impressive display of nurturing and care. It's an amazing feeling being 100% confident that my daughter will grow up to be a caring, loving individual with strong morals all because of the perfect role model she has in my wife. She approaches motherhood with simultaneous senses of seriousness and humor, determination and humility. Seriously, it's like she drops a motherhood triple-double every day of her life.

And when it comes to my Mom, what can I say? I think we could celebrate 'Mother's Day' every day of the year for the next 25 years and it wouldn't make up for all that she's done for me since I came into her life. As an adopted child, I've had people in the past ask me if Mother's Day and Father's Day are 'weird' holidays to celebrate. Typically, after I've resisted the strong urge to punch these people in the jugular for being idiots, it's an easy answer: ABSOLUTELY NOT. My Mom is my Mom. She's taught me so many incredible things in my life time and I owe her so much. Whenever I'm being stupid or obnoxious, my Mom always jokingly says 'I tried to raise him well, I really did!" Well you did, Mom. More than well.

Last month on my birthday, my Mom told me that her proudest moment of me so far in my life was one time when I bought a homeless guy lunch at Wendy's. That was it! Not graduating college, not this accomplishment or that, but something that represented values. And I hope she realizes that those values have been bred from the impeccable job that her and my Dad have done raising me.

My wife and Mom may not even read this, but if they do, I hope they really realize how much they mean to me, and how much the people they ARE mean to me. Will I do everything I can to make their Mother's Day special and show them that I care? Of course I will, because I love them. But will it still feel like 'not enough', and a poor compensation for the spectacular things that they've done as mothers every day since they had children?

Absolutely, and I think old Anna Jarvis would give me a fist bump on that one.

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Sidewalk Chalk - How Does It Work?

It shocks my eyelids that Insane Clown Posse didn't include sidewalk chalk in their list of magical mysteries in the smash hit song 'Miracles'. Granted, yesterday was the first time I'd touched a piece of sidewalk chalk in what I'm guessing is at least a dozen years. But something weird happened when I came home to find my wife and daughter drawing on the sidewalk in front of our home. As soon as that chalk tickled my hand, it's like I had a reverse-Tom Hanks-in-Big, Freaky-Friday-except-without-Jamie-Lee-Curtis moment where I regressed to a carefree child. Fortunately, not to the extreme of uncontrollable bedwetting, but enough to have an amazing time with some colored pieces of calcium sulfate.


I should note right off the bat that as a general rule, I HATE the feeling of chalk in my hand. In school, I always counted my blessings when I had a classroom with one of those new-fangled¹ whiteboards and dry erase markers. For some reason that initial touch always sends a weird shiver up my spine. But something about sidewalk chalk brings about an exception to the rule.

Stop for just a minute and think about your childhood experiences with sidewalk chalk. Is there a single bad one? I'll bet you a Cheesy Gordita Crunch that there isn't. Meanwhile, other childhood sources of entertainment probably caused you some pain or grief at some point in your days of play. Falling off a bicycle, taking an aggressive bubble to the eye, getting strangled by a Skip-It²; few things provided pure entertainment and fun without risk of injury or strife, but sidewalk chalk was one of them. And not only that, but if you think about it, chalk could very well be the OLDEST children's toy around. Hell, little cavetoddlers were using chalk in prehistoric days to draw pictures of their friends getting eaten by woolly mammoths.

So when my wife went inside to get dinner ready, it was ON. I didn't even mess with changing out of my work clothes, I wanted to dive into this chalk action. As Ava dutifully drew her straight lines, I stared at my canvas with a complete lack of vision. How does one conquer over a decade's worth of chalk block? I decided I'd start with a circle. Ava looked at me and gave an approving fart. Or maybe that was me. It's not important, I was too caught up in the moment to pay attention to details. A few more well placed lines here, a little shading there. IT'S A SUN! FUCK YEAH! I was on a roll and wasn't going to let it stop. Now here's a moon to go with the sun! What a minute, forget celestial bodies, I'm switching it up: A MONKEY! Finally, after a sad attempt to draw a hopscotch court (is it called a court?) and show Ava how to play (you're welcome for the show, neighbors), my wife was back outside telling us to come in and wash up.

I nearly had an old-fashioned 'AW, DO WE HAVE TO?!' moment. I walked in a little dizzy, a little confused, and as my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light in the apartment, I realized just one thing: Sidewalk chalk may very well be one of the greatest sources of natural entertainment that God³ has ever graced this Earth with.

So whether you've got a child or not, I will make this one recommendation to you: Go get yourself a $3 bucket of sidewalk chalk and have a blast now that the weather is getting warmer. Even if you just use it to draw fake dead body outlines to freak out your neighbors, I'll still applaud you for bringing back a 'lost art'. And maybe if you're lucky, you'll find the magic piece of chalk, and all of your drawings will come to life in the ChalkZone (will anybody get this reference except me?).

Draw on!
_______________________

¹ I swear, I'm only 26.
² This statement is not representative of any former or pending lawsuits against Tiger Electronics and its subsidiaries.
³ Allah, Buddha, Krishna, Ram, whatever you're down with. I say God though. 'merica.

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I'm Baaack!

It’s ironic that my last post on this blog was just before Ava was born, and now I’m returning to write again at a point in fatherhood where I feel like I’m finally starting to figure it out. Now, I can hear the collective “HA!” ringing out from anybody reading this right now, and yes, I understand that I will NEVER completely figure out being a parent. But I do feel like I’m finally at a certain comfort level. While I spent so many of those first months scared shitless, I now feel much more at ease and get to watch my beautiful girl develop a personality and learn rather than worry constantly about the minutia of newborn necessities.

As tempted as I am to give you a 50 page, in-depth history of where the last 18 months has brought my family, I’ll spare you the awesomeness and just say that I am incredibly excited to start blogging again and have a good feeling I will be providing plenty of content. Somehow, not even Twitter and Facebook are enough to contain my diatribes anymore, so I expect this to be a great forum for me to spew my virtual verbal diarrhea on any topic that enters my ADD-riddled brain. Of course, the main focus will be on family and fatherhood, but let’s face it; I’m too much of a hip-hop head (see the new Tech N9ne song in the video window to the right) and beer geek (note the ‘Imbibing’ links above) to not include commentary on those as well. And chances are, every now and then something will piss me off enough to the point of ranting about it here.

So needless to say, you are all in for a treat, if you don’t mind me farting in my own tuba (that is the phrase, right?). This is just a sort post to say I’m back in action, so stay tuned because there’s more to come soon (I’m working on a riveting piece on sidewalk chalk).

Also, if any of you have some super exciting blogs you want to have placed in my blogroll, let me know!

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What do you get...

when you cross a pineapple with pressure points and a mile long walk?

I wish there was a hilarious knee slapper of a punchline to this one, but there's only one answer: a couple nearing the end of their pregnancy, desperate to try anything to naturally induce labor NOW.

Our due date is on Tuesday..as in 5 days from now. As in, it is baby time, and there are many many people waiting on pins and needles for Ava to come out to meet them. Our hopes are to induce on Monday, but that all depends on how our appointment goes tomorrow, so you'll have to stay tuned for updates on that.

I'm an impatient person, and I'll fully admit to that. I'm very much an 'instant gratification' kind of guy and typically want things right away. When I buy stuff online, I get annoyed having to wait for it to be shipped. My road rage stems from the fact that I can't stand it when someone even dips under 60 when driving on the highway. I don't even like waiting 15 minutes for a pizza to bake in the oven when I come home hungry. Yeah, I'm impatient.

But with all that being said, I think I have done damn well waiting for a baby, and I would hope that my wife would agree. But I'm at the end of my rope, and am really, truly READY for Ava..so why won't she just come out already?

Yes, I know..baby's come out when they are ready...they never come out when you want them to...blah, blah, blah. I've heard them all, 100 times each, forwards and backwards. I get it. But you know, taking a really deep look into it all, this lovely series of episodes of frustration, anxiety and eagerness are a nice little training session for the parenthood that lies ahead. After all, isn't this patience-testing repeated throughout the process of raising a child? Whether it be waiting for a certain stage to end (pacifiers!) to waiting for a certain accomplishment (potty training!) or even waiting for a certain level of respect (teenagers!) isn't this waiting essentially a mini-boot camp for us to hone our skills of coping?

Yep, patience is definitely a virtue, and it's not one that I can say I have a firm grasp of. But I'll say this much; preparing for a baby has helped me to begin developing my grip on it, and soon enough I'll be crushing patience in my fist, delivering spinebusters to serenity, and chokeslamming composure through the ring. I'll be like Shawn Michaels at the 1995 Royal Rumble, tearing through virtues like there's no tomorrow. Watch out, diligence! Meekness..your my bitch now!



Okay, I'll finish with that analogy because quite frankly, I don't entirely know where I'm going with it. To sum things up, as hard as it is to be patient and continue waiting, I know I should for multiple reasons. Not only am I simply bettering myself, but ultimately by learning to cultivate my ability to be patient, I'll be much more likely to pass this capability down to Ava. And if there is one thing that is worse than an impatient Pat, it's an impatient child..I don't care whose it is. Impatient children are the ones who throw public tantrums (please see rule #13 in my previous post) and have to get hauled out of restaurants, stores, etc. with snot dripping down their face, screaming because they aren't getting what they want right away. Not okay. And of course, this happens to even the most patient of children/parents; everybody has their bad day. But when it becomes a habit, that's a child who was never taught this simple lesson: sometimes you have to wait, and sometimes there's nothing you can do about it.

Of course, allow me to momentarily look like a hypocrite as I segue back into our latest attempts to bring about labor. You know, the Internet and I have a very love hate relationship. Given my job, and the things that I enjoy doing (I'm talking about fantasy football and downloading music, pervs), I love the Internet. What's a better way to find what you need, right when you need it? But that blessing is also the curse. If Amanda and I were having this baby 50 years ago, there wouldn't be any Internet for us to be searching for labor signs, methods of inducing labor, foods that induce labor, etc. Then again, if we were having this baby 50 years ago, Amanda's name would probably be Ethel, and we'd be listening to 'Ram-A-Lam-A-Ding-Dong' in my Studebaker on the way to the sock hop.

My point is, as nice as having a plethora of information is, having an overload of information (and especially MISinformation) is incredibly overwhelming in the worst way. Do you have any idea how many website, message boards, forums, etc. are out there for this kind of stuff? No really, do you? Because there WAY TOO MANY. Reading about all these 'signs of labor' is like reading Buddhist philosophies. This sign may exist or it may not exist. If this happens, it could mean something or it could mean nothing at all. The baby could actually there, or it could simply be a physical manifestation of our inner child wishing to come out. There's part of me that thinks pregnant women should be banned from the Internet for their own good. All these women come online and post absurd things that they think put them into labor, and then curse pregnant women of the future by causing them to assume it will work for them.

"One morning I decided to brush my teeth with my right hand instead of my left hand, and sure enough, 4 hours later I was at the hospital. That must have done the trick!"

"I was shaving my legs, and as I was shaving my left calf, my water broke. Must be an ancient secret pressure point!"

"I ate some yogurt that I realized was 3 weeks expired. A couple hours later, the contractions started booming. Let that yogurt sit, then go to town ladies!"

"I was playing track 9 on my Eagle Eye Cherry CD when I accidentally hit the reverse button instead of forward. There must be some labor-inducing backwards message, because little Randall pushed his way out that afternoon!"

Ridiculous.

In our search to find things that might get Ava moving a little sooner than her due date, we did our best to find things that seemed to have somewhat reliable backing or multiple sources saying that it had the potential to work. So are we just as guilty of encouraging the endless cycle of passing down labor induction techniques? Maybe. Does it seem kind of silly to have Amanda scarfing down pineapple in hopes that we can have Ava a few days sooner? Maybe. Do I look like a dumbass trying to hunt down pressure points on her hand and ankle and doing nothing but injuring the webbing between her fingers? Yes, there's no maybes about that one. But 9 months is a long time to wait for a lot of things, especially your daughter that you already love so much and just want to hold. I've literally daydreamed since March about what it's going to be like to have this new member of our family, so I can't help but be a little overly eager.

So I'll do my best to be patient, Ava, but it sure is hard. Tell you what, I'll make a compromise with you: I'll be patient right now if you promise to be patient with me the first few times I change your diapers. Deal?

See you soon little girl, I love you!

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THE FINAL COUNTDOWN

Europe - The Final Countdown
Uploaded by DARKBENZIN. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.

Okay I had to put that video there..but now that it's out of the way, let's get down to business.

We are less than a month away from Ava's due date, but the fact is, she could be coming at any time now and it's simply a matter of us being as ready as we can be. Last night was a strong reminder of the fact that we are playing a guessing game here, and ultimately our lives are under Ava's control at this point. It might sound incredibly dramatic, but it's true. To make a long story short, Amanda and I were sitting there at 10:30 last night with our packed up, ready to make the trek to the hospital if the contractions she was feeling continued. They ended up subsiding (obviously, otherwise this post would be titled a bit differently), but it was just another reminder of just how close we are. And today, Ava is probably sitting in there laughing because Mom and Dad are now frantically putting together a to-do list for this week of all the things that are yet to be done. Congratulations Ava, you are 1/30th my size and you can send me into a anxiety-fueled frenzy. Reeeeeal cool!

So since I've gone far too long between posts YET AGAIN, where do I start?

Probably the biggest event that has happened since the last post was our pre-admission appointment at the hospital. We got a chance to meet with the Maternity Care Coordinator, fill out some good old paperwork (what else is new) and get a glimpse of the maternity ward at St. Luke's South. It was great to see everything, and was yet again one of those 'Holy crap' moments that makes everything seem that much more real. It might sound strange that I keep saying that; obviously the baby is real and I can feel her moving every day, and we are constantly talking about her and getting ready. But there's still this certain air of unreality (yep its a word, look it up) about it all that gets broken by certain moments. Getting a chance to see one of the room's was definitely one of those moments in this situation. Getting to look into an empty room might not seem like much, but for somebody who has been preparing and waiting for this event, it's like being presented with this halfway-completed canvas; my mind immediately started filling in the blanks and envisioning scenarios in my head. Seeing Amanda hold her for the first time, ME getting to hold her for the first time, all of us asleep at night in the room, our families coming and visiting. They all played out in my head like a movie preview and came accompanied with a strange mix of anxiety, anticipation and excitement.

Random thought: Amanda gave me a piece of information last week that completely broke my heart. Were you aware that babies can actually cry while they are inside of the womb? How terrible is that? Now every time there is a loud noise or some movement I'm sitting there praying that she isn't crying, because there is literally NOTHING I can do and I don't even like the thought of her in there crying with nobody to comfort her.

Another random thought: Amanda reminded me of the fact that babies are obviously going to fart audibly in public. Why is there a part of me that is tempted to fart in public sometime and blame the baby?

One new thing I find myself doing as I get closer and closer to Ava's arrival is making rules for myself as a father. The rules vary and pertain not only to how I'll act as a parent but also just my life in general. Here are some of the ones I've come up with thus far..some serious, some not as serious.

-I will never dress like a complete dweeb. For example, I saw a dad at Jimmy John's the other day wearing some high water, 80s-looking Levis with his long sleeve t-shirt tucked in and no belt. I mean come on now..I know you have kids, but did the kids break all the mirrors in your house or what?

-If Ava is ever involved in athletics or anything of a competitive nature, I'll always support her to the fullest and cheer her on, but I'll never let it get to an extreme where I am disparaging or talking garbage about the other team/opponent/etc. They are all kids who are working their butts off and doing something they enjoy, and should be treated as such.

-I will never purchase Heelys for Ava. She may temporarily hate me for it, but those are the most obnoxious, unnecessary 'shoes' I've ever seen. And there very well may be a 'No Heely' rule in my house if her friends have them.

-On a similar note, I will do everything in my power to keep her from watching Hannah Montana, High School Musical, The Suite Life, etc. (or whatever show is equivalent in a few years) I know I'll have limited control on this one, but those shows make kids grow up way too fast, and gives them the message that being a smartass/sarcastic/bitchy/dumb girl is something to take pride in. Sorry Disney, that's not the message I feel like passing onto my child; I'll stick to having her watch the classic animated movies, and maybe you should consider sticking to making those.

-I will very gradually, and very carefully, ease Ava into using a computer, especially the Internet. There's a lot of scary/disturbing/inappropriate stuff out there, and its way too easy to find.

-I will do my best to prevent her from being too technology-dependent for entertainment. Recently I've seen commercials for a new toy that is an electronic bike that plugs into the TV and plays games on the screen while they pedal. Here's a brilliant idea: get your kid a bike with some training wheels, and have them ride outside. It's exercise and constant visual stimulation that isn't constrained by what can fit on a cartridge or TV screen.

-I'll never get so wrapped up and involved in my job that I neglect spending time with my family. A lot of new dads probably make this claim, and there are probably plenty that end up failing to honor it, but I think its one of the most important principles that can exist for a parent.

-After the big first words like momma, dadda, grandma, grandpa, etc., Ava will be able to say TOUCHDOWN, KAAAANSAS CITY! (hopefully by then they will actually be scoring them)

-As much as it pains me to say it, I will cut down on my rap music listening (in other words, eliminate it when she is around). There is way too much material in rap music that could potentially bring about questions that I am not prepared to answer AT ALL. Maybe just a little Tech N9ne would be okay though..(Amanda will smack me later for this one)

-I swear to never 'let myself go' to the point where Ava says 'Daddy, why are you so fat?'

-I will do everything in my power to teach and constantly remind Ava that having an imagination and creative mind is one of the most beautiful and powerful things in this world.

-I will make sure to teach Ava how important and respectable the ability to laugh at yourself is. I'm guessing this lesson will come about the first time I make an ass out of myself in front of her.

-Five words: Public tantrums get you nothing.

This is all just a sampling. I could really go on and on, because new ones seem to pop into my head every day. One of the most exciting prospects of being a parent is getting a chance to teach. I may not be the most learned or knowledgeable person in the world, but I absolutely cannot wait to help guide my daughter and help her understand what is truly important in life, but also how to live it to the fullest and enjoy it as much as possible. As much as becoming a parent makes me feel old in a way, this feeling is completely countered by the anticipation to look at the world through youthful eyes again and go back to a time where so many things are new and being learned. All the little routines that I don't think twice about each day are going to become lessons and explanations for a little girl doing her best to understand the world that is happening around her.

So what will the next 29 days see?

-Final touches on the nursery. We are so close to the finish line on this one. A glider is on the way, laundry is complete, and we just have some decorative work to do. Ava, your room is almost ready!

-The start of weekly doctor's appointments. Another big indication that you are in the home stretch of pregnancy. I'm happy that I've been able to go to all of the doctor's appointments throughout the pregnancy. It's been a great chance for me and Amanda to learn about Ava's progression together. Any guys out there reading this, I suggest you do everything possible to attend as many of the doctor's appointments as you can.

-Babyproofing. We don't have a ton to do just yet, but we will be plugging up the outlets, getting rid of loose cords, and things of that nature. Ava won't be crawling right away, but she will be before we know it so we might as well be prepared now.

-Reading. This one is especially true in my case. Amanda has taken care of babies before with babysitting and nannying. I, on the other hand, have not, and anyone who is close to me knows that I do not like lacking knowledge in something. So, I have begun tearing through, and will continue to tear through, What To Expect the First Year. My mind is like a steel trap for baby information. Feeding...SNAP! Bathtime..SNAP! Public Baby Farts...SNAP!

-Getting hospital-ready. Installing car seat bases, making sure our hospital bag is packed with what we need, etc. I think we realized after last night that its better to be prepared early than be scrambling around trying to get everything together. If I hadn't quit the Boy Scouts, I would reference the 'Be Prepared' motto, but let's face it, Boy Scouts sucks.

That's all I have for now. Hopefully I get my ass into gear and this isn't the last post before Ava is born. But, even if it is, there's nothing to worry about because this blog will continue on FOR-EV-ER.

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