Sympathy Pain

I had a couple moments tonight that made me realize I am a father of the new generation. No more coming home to slippers and a pipe, Mr. Beaver…he he, I said beaver.

The first was as my oldest ask me if I had seen “Jurassic Park.” I was slightly taken aback, thinking it was a little graphic for a 7 year old, but I said yes.

“The t-rex is kinda scary.”

“Yep”

“Especially to be related to a chicken.” Yes, that is the latest theory, that T-rex’s closest relative is the chicken…my 7 year old knew that…did you? I remember hearing that in high school…when I was 15.

The second was with the same boy, as he was wearing my blue tooth ear bud and watching the Muppet’s on my cell phone. It was slight surreal and…dear I say it…very yuppy-ish. At least I didn’t vote republican. And, at least, it was the muppets…Fozi telling bad jokes and being heckled by Waldorf and Stadler.

And the last was tonight with the baby. My wife is at dress rehearsal for the show she is the assistant director for. Which means she’s not here in the evening…and about to fall out from exhaustion. But anyway, back to the moment. I had just finished boiling pacifiers and steaming bottles, and was feeding Tony on the couch. I was watching T.V. Was it ESPN or CNN or even SPIKE? No, I was watching “Project Runway” on BRAVO. Metro-sexual much? They were dressing the WWE Diva’s…who are hot.

Well, that’s my view of fatherhood in the new millenium. My father just felt his manhood take a blow…easy, that’s my dad your thinking about.

It was a hellish weekend…not “somebody died from a rattlesnake bite to the face” hellish…just busy. Jack had a Basketball Tournament this weekend, some Christmas thing. It seems some parents think it’s great to have your child spend 3 days of the Christmas Vacation locked up in a gym. I had rather been at home playing Wii, or traveling with family. Any way, Jack’s team is a really good team, but got beat Friday night. That meant they would have to play 5 games Saturday, winning them all, 4 back to back, just to get into the championship. And yes, they did. I am very proud of them, and don’t know how they keep upright for that long. They lost in the championship, their 5th back to back game, to a very rested team. I am an assistant coach, and we were both dead when we got home. Sarah was not much better, having spent the day with fussy baby.

Why was he fussy? Well, not having any guidance on feeding, other than “BREAST IS THE BEST OR HE SHALL NOT GET INTO COLLEGEwe had no idea how much formula we should start out with. Seems 2 ounces is not enough. So Tony spent a good deal of the first few days of formula, hungry. We have read up and figured it out since then, so he is a much happier baby.

Sunday was family day. We traveled about 90 minutes away. Ate good food, Showed off the boys, got presents, and returned home. It was exhausting. We got home and wanted to just crash. Then, there was a moment in which we both got an energy boost…

Seems mister Tony likes laying on his back while you “shake his booty”. It was the first time I noticed him reacting to something outside the food and gas realm. He was cooing and almost smiling. Sarah and I were in heaven. It was so cool to see that happen….then I crashed.

So, I look forward to more booty shaking in ‘08. It made my heart smile. I think that’s one of my resolutions.

I walked into a house today that I haven’t been in for years. It was like nothing had changed. Same decorations, a pug that always needs attention, and the smell of baking.

I had Jack last night, and since he had no school today, he stayed the night. His aunt, on his mom’s side, always has all the cousins, nieces, and nephews in, a few days before Christmas, and makes decorations or treats. This morning was that day. I took him over and talked to her for a few minutes. Her daughter’s pregnant, the one I saw dance about 10 years ago as a “tweenager”. As I stood there, Jack’s cousins came up. One, now about to start driving, I held just hours after he was born. It’s a great tradition that, even though her daughter and son are no longer participating, she continues with the rest of the children.

As I drove away, I remembered a post over at Freaked-out-fathers. He was talking about “non-custodial” parents and traditions. I think that it is important to start your own in your new home as a non-custodial parent, but you also need to respect the traditions already in place. Many times, over the last few years, I could have thrown the “It’s my time” card and not allowed Jack to go to one tradition or other, but they are important to him. I also know that now, with Tony, times will arise when there will be a clash of scheduling in family events, and it’s important that I have shown flexibility thus far.

So, if you have no plans, and the bio-parent has something family oriented to do, try to be reasonable. Your child needs family time on both sides of the divorce line.

We have started a ginger bread house tradition and go to an annual “Festival of Lights” at the local botanical garden. It’s things that are very us, and Jack is an integral part of it.

Yes, Virginia, We have a Wii.

“Where ever did you fine one?” you might ask. Well, not around here or the Internet, no. My sister-in-law in California found one. She called around and found a place in Glendale that had them.

“That was easy.” I hear you thinking. Nay nay, Nadine. One kiosk had 15. The catch, they had no way to run credit cards. So she had to go get cash and get to the mall. She then had to find where the hell this one oasis of Wii…he he…was. But, she did it.

So now, the quest for the Wii is over. Christmas is saved. I had begun to come up with stories of Santa’s sudden onset of Alzheimer’s, or how Jack wasn’t as “nice” as the other kids who did get one. But, Jenni saved the day. Thanks sis.

I pick Jack up, and he is ready to go, telling me about who got in trouble at school, and the fine sport of cup stacking. I decide to start on the Christmas list while riding home. After a little coaching…he wants a Wii. I think Santa can handle that.

Jack has a bunch of homework…but we have fun doing it. He is working on a report about the Navajo…did you know they lived in “hogans”? Any way, I love doing homework with Jack. It’s something my folks really didn’t do…that I remember…and my grades in high school reflected that. I had great test grades, but no homework to speak of. I want to make sure Jack and Tony don’t fall into that trap.

Jack’s favorite place to eat on Wednesdays? Chick-Fil-A…cause they have a play ground. So off we go…after a wrestling match over the Whoppie Cushion.

Side note, every child needs a whoppie cushion! Get one that has a foam insert so it re inflates by itself. You can also use it for a training device for your pets. They hate them. One good squeeze to the face and they are gone.

So after dinner, the three of us head north to his other home. After the hand off, and discussion about homework and sports, my bride and I head home.

Wednesday’s are great…and then kinda sucky. It’s hard to watch him grow up every wednesday afternoon and every other weekend.

We play this week in round 2. If we win, we play the next weekend for the championship. It’s very exciting. Jack’s Baseball team won the county tournament, now foot ball is on its way. Very cool. He’s a sports phenom. And, the championship is being held in a college stadium. How cool…uh, for the kids…is that?

I did see some of the stereotypical ugliness that surrounds parents of little league during the last game. The other team was behind. We had beaten them just the week before. They were having…issue with the ref’s calls. Now, we were up 21 to nothing, so it wasn’t like a few missed calls would have made any difference. However, as I was getting my second hot chocolate…don’t judge…I heard yelled from the opposing side:

“Ref, I’ll just meet you in the parking lot.”

The ref came my way…I thought he wanted me…but security was standing behind me, also drinking a hot chocolate.

“I need you to do a sweep of the away side,”he says to the guard, “Someone wants to ‘talk’ with me after the game.”

Soon after, the offensive coach, who already had 2 personal fouls called on him, was escorted off the field. In this age class, there is one coach on the field, with the kids, at all times. He was one of them. So there supposed model of sportsmanship was thrown out of the game. I felt sorry for his kids. He should be banned from coaching.

Anyway, wish us luck. It should be a good game.

What’s Halloween like in the Comer/Brown House? Well, this year it’s on a Wednesday. That’s my day with Jack. So, I offered to get his costume and get him ready for the evening. I picked him up after school, around 3:15. We stopped by the store to get safety pins and a trick and treat bag. Then on to the house to do homework and eat. Sarah got home, and we began the transformation. My little freckled face, blond haired boy became Jack-ula, the undead.

We went to the Baptist church up the street, to their Trunk-or-treat. This was Sarah’s first experience with the boy on Halloween, and her first Trunk-or-Treat. This church does it up right, with 5 inflatable play forts/slides. They also had about 20 cars decorated and giving candy out at each. It’s a great option for the 8 and under crowd. It’s a great way to enjoy Halloween in a safe, controlled way.

I do have to say at this point, some people should have a personal costume cop at there house. One lady, at this church function, showed more breast than I saw at my bachelor party. I’m not really sure who or what she was supposed to be. But nice ta tas. And…Super Girl, without the super abs. I wanted to buy her a body suit.

After 45 minutes, we traveled to bio-mom’s house. She lives in a sub division that does Halloween right. People park at the mouth of the sub division, and but the dozens, walk through. Some have flatbed hay rides. A bunch of the house are decked out with Halloween decorations. Jack was off with his friend to finish the trick or treating…without me.

Sarah and I went home, tried to give out some candy, and plopped on the coach to watch Gordon Ramsey tear an Indian restaurant to shreds.

Not very “Leave it to Beaver” but Jack had an awesome night. It would have been easy to just let Jack hang with his mom, but I really enjoyed having Sarah help get him ready then see the “crazy boy” at Trunk or Treat. I think he also was able to get the best of both houses.

I’d love to say that every holiday in a split family is this easy…but it’s not. Just read Kimberly’s site.

Jack and I went to Pizza Hut last night. We have been playing the “blow the straw paper” game at restaurants all around town…What? Unfamiliar with this game? We made it up…

Well, you use your glasses, cups, mugs…whatever you are using from for the “goal”. Place it directly in front of you. Then, put the balled up straw paper in the middle…then start trying to blow the paper and hit your opponent’s cup…both blowing at the same time. It usually ends up with him laughing to the point of not being able to blow. And when the food comes…game over.

Last night, I taught him to play paper football and quarter basketball. Most people have played football. We used a napkin, which didn’t last long, but he got the jest. Coin basketball isn’t as well known, so here are the basics:
Using a coin…a quarter is preferred, you start with the quarter close to your body and thump it toward the other person so it spins. The closer to them, the better. They will create a “goal”, by shaping both hands, on the table, in a tunnel shape, using their body as a backboard. You catch the quarter, as it is spinning between your thumbs. You have to keep your fingertips on the table, and either slam or shoot the quarter to the goal. If you make it, 2 points. If not, 2 bad. The other side gets the ball either way. It sounds harder than it is…

We had a blast. It was a fun evening. And I got to teach my son some games that will get him through many a lunch at school.

Speaking of games…Eliza does a great job of reviewing “real” games and toys. Check it out.

You know what I’m afraid of? Loosing Sarah. Not in the mall or Target, but during the pregnancy. What man hasn’t thought that? Yeah, woman have been giving birth since Eve, and we are in a technically advanced age, but woman still die in childbirth.Did you know that 1 in 3700 women die in America every year during childbirth? Morbid much? But it’s true.

Yes I worry about Tony. Every time he changes his movement pattern, I worry. Sarah, rather she admits it or not, worries about that little guy as well…but never for herself. So I get to worry about Tony and my wife. It’s kinda my job to look out for her. She’s so concentrated on the baby, between the two of us, he’s covered…but who cares for mom? I love her more than I though I would ever love anyone… except Bernadette Peters…

What if something goes wrong? What if I come home from the hospital either with just Tony…or alone. I know it’s stupid…but it’s still there. I’m not obsessing about it, or loosing sleep. But sometimes I think of loosing her…or them …and not in a “phew, now I can watch Baywatch” way…

I just wanted to write down the nervous father/husbands thought of the day. So if you’re an expectant dad…and you are having these thoughts…I understand.

I love North Alabama. We build rockets here for crying out loud. Having said that:
I awoke early this morning to go to Jack’s football. I REALLY wanted to sleep in. Sarah has been sinus-y…and pregnant and I am just sinus-y, so sleep is not uninterupted.
Side note:Did you know you could take sud-a-fed when pregnant? We didn’t think so, and neither did the on call nurse when she called to ask, and neither did the pharmacist. But, when Sarah was at her check up, she mentioned the congestion. He, who had already stated that he was “way behind” said, “just take sud-a-fed”…guess he’s the doc. (more…)

I got my degree in theatre from University of Montevallo in 1994. I worked for many years at the Alliance Theatre in Hot-lanta. I heave taught theatre at a couple high schools. I currently work in the theatrical light field. I have been extremely lucky to continue in the field my degree is in.

My wife graduated from a performing arts high school. She worked as a DJ for a while and does community theatre and some paid singing engagements. She also has been known to beguile a gentleman or three at open mic nights in the city. The first time I saw her, she was on stage.

We love performing arts. So, we are bring Jack up to appreciate them as well. He has easily seen more live performances than many adults.

We went and saw a very well done production of “A Year with Frog and Toad.” It was very cute. Jack walked around like the “Snail with the Mail” for hours afterwards. He also sang the tag line from the Snail’s song for a good day and a half…although he didn’t know the right words…it didn’t stop him. He really enjoyed the show.
It was a great family night out…and we took our friend Kari along…Jack needed someone to flirt with. He was excited about the show. He wasn’t feeling well at dinner, but given the choice of going home or the show, he picked the show. It did my heart good.

AND, “A Year with Frog and Toad” is required reading for 2nd grade. So he got a chance to see a story he had read come off the page. It was really cool.

You don’t have to be in the heart of american theatre to find something…but it does make it easier. So, keep a look out for local children’s shows.It’s a great opportunity to do something different, and let you child’s imagination go off in an entirely different direction…and you might enjoy it a little, too.

children’s theatre, theatre for young audiences, a year with frog and toad, independant musical productions

So, how many of you know what onomatopoeia means? My seven year old does. He made some noise today and said “That’s an onomatopoeia.”

Man, did that stop me short…I had to do a quick mental check for the word myself. It’s weird to hear something like that come out of my little boy.

That baby who handed his mom a wolf spider when he was two…which was scary and awesome all in the same moment.

That little boy who couldn’t reach the water fountain, so I’d have to hold him while he drank…and drank…and drank.

That little guy who stood in the hallway cheesing a huge smile on his first day of school…then freaked out when he was dropped off.

He now wears a size 3 shoe. His grandmother can actually fit in these shoes. He had 1 1/2 of homework tonight. I don’t remember having homework until I was in 3rd or 4th grade…and it had something to do with macaroni art. We had math, and reading, and spelling, and a project on the cottonmouth snake…no, admittedly I knew about the cottonmouth at his age, but that’s because I was raised next to a cattle farm.

“They grow up so fast” is the old adage…and true. And, when you are the non custodial parent…it goes even faster. For all you “part time” parents (I hate that term…but it fits) be even more appreciative of the time with your child. Before you know it…they’ll pop out the “onomatopoeia” card…oh, by the way…

on·o·mat·o·poe·ia [on-uh-mat-uh-pee-uh, ‑mah-tuh‑]
–noun 1. the formation of a word, as cuckoo or boom, by imitation of a sound made by or associated with its referent.

…Oh…and on the snoring front…I still am, but I’m supposed to go to a sleep specialist soon, if my insurance pays for it. But, I may not need it…check this out.

And…random link for those of you who go to the movies…ah movies…that sounds nice.

When does a child begin to develop his own sense of humor. My kid has been silly for years. That’s not waht I am talking about. I mean the type of humor that will continue through life. I have a very dry wit…most of the time…and a very quick mind. So i have been watching.
“Hey Jack…what do you want for dinner?” I was expecting “pizza” to be the answer…or Chick-fil-a. They have a play fort.
“I don’t know. how about Sonic?”
I had Pizza on the brain, So I say “How about Pizza?”
There is a pause.
“What did you say?”
“Pizza”
“Could you say that again, I just want to make sure you said what I thought you said”
I grin…”Pizza”
“Ok…I just don’t think you’ve ever suggested that before.”

No, It’s not Eddie Murphy…but it’s a start. It’s great to see his personality begin to grow into the next stage.

personality, Pizza, humor

personality, Pizza, humor

I Have tracked one branch of my family to 1465, Kent, England. Roger Billingsley. I have finally discovered an “across the pond” link. I never really knew where any of my family came from, and now I do. I found one that was “lost at sea”. I don’t know why, but I thought that was pretty cool. It also seems that I have a “Sir” in my heritage, Sir Thomas Vernon, Circa 1537, Comchester, England. (Whom I may have just found a link back to 1057) That’s my cousin in the picture…

Now, these may be all made up folks that have been thrown onto web sites, but I have really enjoyed the research. I’m waiting to get some names from my dad’s side to start that journey. I’m also going to work on Sarah’s family tree as well…I just hope we don’t cross somewhere…

I’m glad that I will be able to answer Tony when he ask were his family came from.

So, I give you my wife’s page. The Anvil Tree. She is an active blogger, and I love reading her stuff. Here is her latest:

Random Baby Thoughts
Filed under: The Mommy — Sarah @ 8:55 am
I realized, when I woke up this morning, that I am never pregnant in my dreams. I never have a child, I’m never bulging around the tummy, and I’m just me. This has both concerned me and fascinated me since I made this connection. One, because I feel the need to sit up and verify that I am, in fact, still pregnant every time I wake up and two, because I fear that my psyche has not yet accepted the baby.
Not that the psyche gets a vote, mind you. The baby is coming, for sure.

And get this: I will begin my 27th week of pregnancy on my 27th birthday. Odd? Yes. You pair that with the fact that Tony’s conception was on THE IDES OF MARCH, and it’s incredibly likely that my child will come out with a 666 on his forehead.

Then there will be a battle of epic proportions to determine who the real anti-Christ will be. Because we all know the other contenders out there. I’ll buy a ticket.

Although I’m slowly creeping into the uncomfortable phase of pregnancy, I’m starting to find a lot of peace with it. I enjoy the kicking now, and miss it if it lessens. I cry just thinking about holding Tony for the first time. (Yes, me. I’m that girl now.) And when we brought crib pieces in last night, I was suddenly struck with the knowledge that my baby will sleep there. My. Baby. Weird, huh?

But my favorite story about Tony thus far (other than his massive man-parts, which are still the stuff legends are made from), is that all of “my guys” here at work give me a hard time about the baby. (I say “hard”.. it’s just a lot of male ribbing, which I can give out as well as I can take.) They accuse me of faking the pregnancy, telling me I’m just trying to hide the extra weight I’ve put on. (Which is when I point out their gray hair, bald spots, and “baby weight”.)

One meeting, I was sitting at the computer, and was holding my tummy as Tony was being especially active. One of those same managers walked by, and said, “Quit acting like there’s a baby in there! There’s just NOT.”

And my son, the one with our comic timing, kicked my belly so hard that my badge flipped over.

He is SO our kid.