Sympathy Pain

Tony is being difficult abou gooing to sleep in his crib. He’s discovered something remarkable. It is way more interesting to stand in the crib than lay down.

Sarah’s at rehearsal tonight. “Annie”…no she not playing Annie, even though she has the redhead thing happening. But tech week for a show means Tony and I have the house to ourselves. We had a great evening, with a trip to Home Depot and McDonalds…sorry honey…and watching “Avatar”…I’m addicted.

I put him down at the regular time…watched some more “Avatar” and started to go to bed myself.

I stopped by his room for one last stroke of his hair…then it hit me. Something was missing…and it wasn’t one of those “I can’t put my finger on it” moments. I knew.

This was supposed to be a Jack weekend. But his Step Father wanted to take him camping. It was going to happen last week, but the step dad had to have a chunk of Brown Recluse bite taken outta his leg. So I said OK. Jack was excited.

But, tonight, when that moment hit, it took me down the hall to Jack’s room. It’s so cold and empty when he’s not here. Sometimes it’s less…palpable. Sometimes, like tonight, it hit me in the chest.

I remembered back to right after the separation. Jack was about 2 years older than Tony is now. I lived in a small 2 bedroom house. I refused to go back to an apartment. If his mom had a house, so would his dad. Divorce logic. He would sleep with me when he came over. I wouldn’t sleep. Just watch him. I had twin sized fitted sheets over the windows as curtains. They let a lot of light in. I wondered if he would be ok with the separation…divorce…not seeing me for days on end. I really wondered if he would ever trust me…divorce logic.

So I missed tucking him in tonight. It may seem like a small occurrence, but there are times when it is the small stuff that that kicks you square in the teeth.

I am…again…out of town on business. In Atlanta this time. My home town. I had an evening meeting cancel, so I decided to treat myself to a flick. When I was in Wisconsin, my lovely bride went to see the new Batman movie. So I decided this was a good time to go see it.

It was great. I enjoyed it muchly…but here’s where the parenting theme of this page comes in. Once again, I was amazed at the lack of some parents to read. The marquis clearly said “PG-13″. It was even printed on the ticket. And yet, only a few rows away, I had a 5 year old sitting with his parents. Even the “approved for R audiences” Previews were too intense. He did not like them. I heard him through the entire movie saying he was scared and wanted to go home. I probably wouldn’t let my 8 year old watch this film.

Sarah and I went to “Texas chainsaw massacre”, and had the same experience. Really…what part of that title screams “Kid Flick!”. It just amazes me that parents are so selfish that they can’t either find a babysitter or wait till the movie comes out on DVD. At what part do you think “Gee, a movie remake of a horror cult classic…that won’t bother my 3 year old…maybe it will be educational…baby Einstein my ass.”

It just is another example why you should have to take a test before you can procreate… and maybe you should have to retest ever couple years…just to make sure you haven’t developed a case of the stupid.

I’m in Madison Wisconsin…yep…in the land of cheese curds and brats. And Bret Farve. This was a story in the local news today.

I’m up here at a dealer training for one of the theatrical lighting line I sale. It’s one of those evil necessities of the job. I flew up Wednesday and am here until Sunday.

I miss my family. I especially miss my wife. It’s funny, I see men up here, slobbering over women, like they were just released from jail, and it’s simply because they are away from the “old’ ball ‘n chain”. And not every woman is all that much of a catch. Here I am sit at 9:28 pm, while my fellow sales people are down stairs, regaling each other with more and more impressive tails of days “touring with the Stones”, trying, all the while, to snuggle close to a member of the opposite sex. It’s mostly harmless flirting, but it’s a reaction I don’t understand. I fell like one of the only adults in a sea of teenagers. Ok, in all fairness, my roomy is up here to, so we are just two old guys…or two guys who don’t need to be children when our families are out of sight.

I network in my own, subdued way, I guess. These people wouldn’t remember me tomorrow anyway. I’m witty in classes, charming at the meals, and I will prove myself at volley ball and bowling Saturday evening. I feel no need to also feel miserable every morning and miss out on the classes that will help me make more money for my family. And, I get to read articles about corn mazes and Brett.

He brings an energy to this house. Sometimes is feels like the house is going to vibrate of its foundation because of it, but I like it. He’s always brought an energy and vitality to my life. He’s the reason I made it through some of the dark parts of my life. When I didn’t like who I was or what I was letting happen to me, he made me laugh..and want to be a better dad.

I should be there. I should be there every time he wakes up. I should be there every time he gets home from school. I should be there everytime he does his homework. I should be there when he goes to sleep.

I’m not.

That’s why I sometimes cry after I take him home.

I’m not that dad. I’m just not. I have a degree from a liberal arts college for Christ’s sake.

But when my 8 year old son said he didn’t want to play baseball anymore and wanted to do swim team instead, something happened. He had almost hit the game tying homerun in the playoffs. He was finally showing aptitude in a sport other than Wii Fit. We…I…had put lots of time and money into baseball sign up fees, parking at every playoff game, bats, gloves, cleats…you get the idea. And now, after 3 weeks of swim team…maybe a total of 2 hours actually in the pool, he wants to drop out of any future baseball and be a swimmer? I even bought a county athletics t-shirt. Come on.

He has this habit of coming to the end of a season and, especially if they don’t win the tournament, not wanting to play that sport the next year. Football was the worst…but he’s signed up for football now and excited. This year, after not making it to the final four, he wants to dump baseball. And he ALMOST hit a home run…over the park, not some keystone cop, little league, between the legs home run.

I do hate all the practices and games on late week nights, but its baseball. And he has practice 3 nights a week and on Saturday for an hour every week for swimming. So it’s not much better…if at all. Swim meets are like 3 ½ hours long, and your kid is in the water 3 minutes…tops. Then you have to watch everyone else’s kid, from age 6 to 18 swim, for. For 3 ½ hours…at a hot pool…that you can’t jump into.

His mom, or so he says, is on his side. She is the one usually pushing base ball, but now she’s on the board and involved in the politics. Don’t even get me started down that road. So, if he is to be believed, she is ok, after years of little league, to give into his whim after 3 weeks of practice. Hmmm.

So, we shall see. I always thought this kinda thing would affect me. “Let him do what he wants” I always thought. But…it’s baseball. If he wanted to do both, while they do overlap, that would make me feel better…I guess.

your baby
How your baby’s growing: It’s happening already…your baby is showing the first stirrings of independence. By seven months he can sit well without support and may begin crawling (or bottom shuffling). Some babies this young can even pull themselves up to a standing position while holding onto furniture. If he’s not yet a puller, he’s more than likely a good propper; that is, if you stand him next to the sofa, he’ll probably be able to maintain the posture, hanging on for dear life. With this new independence comes the inevitable bumps and falls of childhood. No matter how carefully you childproof, he’s bound to bonk his elbows or knees someday, so don’t get too upset when it happens.

I’m not ready. I refuse to be. I feel like we just struck an awesome balance of personality and needs. He’s funny. He makes us laugh till it hurts. I love watching him discover his world. I love to see his face when Sarah or Jack comes in the room. I’m not ready for him to be mobile. I’m not ready for him to be “independent”.

I set on the couch this morning watching him in his bouncy set, once again chewing on “Mr. Pig” and terrorizing “Mr. Horsey”. His squeal filled the house and the dogs would come running to lick his face. He’d laugh every time they did. I’m not ready for that to end.

They talk about him developing separation anxiety…I’m just saying, I’m going to miss my little Binja.

It’s like poker night…in an alternate universe. You know…the guys hanging out, pretending that Poker is the reason to be there. You know it’s really about the beer and smokes. All the while the “woman” of the house is trying to stay out of the way, take care of the baby, and be available if needed.

Sarah had Book club last night at the house. Let me say, it was really nice to have a house big enough to have the monthly event at. I knew she was excited about revealing our new abode to the Coven and their supporters. So, I wanted to be there to let that happen. I knew having the 6 month old in the room, while cute, was not conducive to the “book club” vibe.

So after Jack swam in is swim meet, I hurried to my house to find it full of intellectual women, sipping wine, eating finger foods, and swapping stories. I do think there was a book present…but I’m not sure how much was discussed. So, I took the baby and we hung out in Jack’s room. Nothing like having a toddler watch you play Wii…he loves the raving rabbids. I then feed him and off to bed he went… while the joviality continued in the living room. I also watched “Baby Borrowers“…which may deserve a post of its own.

After all the ladies had left, I helped clean up the snacks and such. I know that Sarah did most, if not all, of the prep for the party, but I really had that feeling of being the house wife at a poker game. But, honestly, this group was much hotter and more intelligent than any poker outing I’ve ever seen.

Check out this video: Slow Motion Baby Laughing

Add to My Profile | More Videos

I awoke this morning to a little baby snuggling up next to me. This is not a normal happening. Sarah brought him in and laid down with us. It was nice…even when he spit up in the bed…twice. I dozed on and off for a while. It was nice.

I glanced at the clock and realized the alarm wasn’t turned on, but I was still fine. It was about the time I normally got up. I actually was a little early. So I showered as normal, made the Binja’s bottles and food for the day, swept some of the living room and headed out. Sarah had said goodbye in a leisurely manner about 10 minutes before we left. It was a good morning.

Traffic was extremely light…almost like a holiday morning during the school year. It was awesome. I dropped off the baby at daycare and chatted with my friends there. It was really nice. It was like a perfect spring day.

I headed to work, stopping by McDonalds to grab breakfast. I was about 30 minutes early, eating my sausage biscuit, and jamming to morning radio.

“It’s 9:00 o’clock and that was Elton John…”

Um…no, it’s 8:00. If it were nine…that would mean…I was late by 30 minutes…not early.

Sarah had brought Tony in because I had over slept. When I looked at the clock, I had only looked in the minutes, not the hour. I had been an hour late all morning. I didn’t realize it until I was pulling into work. I can’t tell you how many time in that hour and a half that I had looked at a clock and never really read it.

I felt like a tard.

If you are interested…or a nerd like me…I found this article about the origins of Father’s day.

Anyway, Father’s day was a great success at the Comer-Brown house…mostly. My folks came into town and I had Jack. There was all kinda testosterone in the house. Jack, dad, and I even made a man run to Home Depot Father’s Day morning. We were rendered to grunting and knuckle dragging the moment the automatic door opened and we were faced with lawn mowers and power tools. SMELL THE MUSK LADIES!!!

We did have horror brunch at this place called “Mezza Luna’s”. I guess I should have known when “father’s day” and “brunch” were used in the same sentence. “Brunch” is not the manliest of meals, and then to go to a place with a foreign name that serves something very close to a quiche…real men don’t eat quiche. It was a train wreck.

We then had family over for cake…I think that could become a new tradition. Then some Wii and family time. It was a good day to be a dad.

Here is my favorite quote from the day.

“You have to be nice to dad today AND tomorrow. He has 2 sons.”

So we have decided to go out tonight for my Father’s day diner…that and we were just too tired to do it last night. So I hope you had a pleasant father’s day. I also hope you don’t need a specific day to tell your dad…or anyone important to you…how special they are.

BackFlip Failure

It’s been a heck of a week; I wanted to take a moment to celebrate my son’s 8^th birthday:

June 2, 2000:

It was a beautiful June day. I was about to become a father. The hospital had called us the day before and told us the room was ready…it was like turn down service. We had scheduled an induction. Jack’s mom had some high blood pressure issues during the pregnancy, so our doctor decided to get things going at 37 weeks. We had taken the class and tour. We had “the list” of necessary things. The family was in town. And Jackson Keith arrived around 3:30 that afternoon. I don’t know why, but I didn’t cut the cord. I’ve always regretted that. But he got here, a little jaundiced, but healthy none the less. It is one of my favorite days. We named him after my dad’s father “Jack”…his name was Arthur Earl, but everyone called him Jack…and the bio-mom’s uncle, Keith, how had been killed in a car crash years before.

June 2, 2008:

I have to pick up the Birthday Cake from Costco. He wanted chocolate cake with chocolate icing and a football theme. The party is at 6:00 at the gym where he plays Basketball. His mom is picking up the food and getting the gym ready. 16 boys have been invited, mostly from his baseball team. All of them will show. Jack’s just that kid that everyone enjoys to be around. He’s about to go into the third grade and is reading on a fourth grade level. He’s finding his since of humor. We laugh a lot. I’m very proud of this little guy. He’s beginning to become his own person. It’s amazing to watch. I wish I could freeze him where he is but I also can’t wait to see who he becomes.

I fell in love with Steven Curtis Chapman’s music in College. He’s a contemporary Christian artist, who straddles rock and country. I used some of his music in church dramas will helping at Eagle’s Landing FBC in Atlanta. I’ve always had his cd on my ipod and still enjoy listening. The company I work for does the lighting for his tour and I have been backstage a couple times at his concerts.

I was extremely saddened to get this news at our sales meeting Thursday morning:

At approximately 5pm on the afternoon of Wednesday May 21st, Maria Sue Chapman, 5 years old and the youngest daughter to Steven and Mary Beth Chapman was struck in the driveway of the Chapman home in Franklin, TN. Maria was rushed to Vanderbilt Childrens Hospital in Nashville, transported by LifeFlight, but died of her injuries there. Maria is one of the close knit family’s six children and one of their three adopted daughters.

More than five years ago, Chapman and his wife MaryBeth founded The Shaohannah’s Hope Ministry after bringing their first adopted daughter, Shaohannah, home from China. The ministry’s goal is to help families reduce the financial barrier of adoption, and has provided grants to over 1700 families wishing to adopt orphans from around the world. Chapman is a five-time GRAMMY ® winner and 54-time Dove Award winning artist who has sold over 10 million albums and garnered 44 No. 1 singles.

Jack is going into the third grade. We have survived the year with the teacher of doom. His class had the fewest honor roll students of all the 2^nd grade classes at his school. During awards day, his class didn’t cheer and yell when their teacher was announced. You would hope the principal was watching.

But it’s done. He’s now reading on a 4.5 grade reading level. Sarah and I have both recently read the first book in the “Spiderwick Chronicles” which falls into that level. I’m very excited about sharing this series with him, as we all continue to read them. Most of the Dahl books are higher in range, as are the Narnia book, but those are just around the corner. I’m very proud of his reading accomplishments.

As for next year’s teacher, bio mom filled out the “Learning Environment ” request the school sent out. They are trying to get feedback from the parents on what type of teacher would be best to assist the student in learning. Let me share these observations:

• Nurturing
  
• Gentle
  
• Someone who likes, appreciates, and enjoys boys.
  
• A younger teacher for a change of pace and a different vibe. I think a completely different environment will be most beneficial to Jack in creating the most successful year possible.
  
• Someone who is “tuned-in” to students and notices when they are “off their game” and tries to figure out the cause and resolve the situation.
  
• A creative environment. A teacher who will attempt more than one method of teaching material if students are not grasping the concept by the initial lesson. No attitude of “this is the way I do it, and if you don’t get it, then too bad.”
  
• More of a fluid, “go with the flow” because we can still get it done, attitude.
  
• High expectations. His reading level is up to a 4.5.
  
• Flexibility that can also be taught by example.
  
• A happy, supportive environment that incorporates positive reinforcement. Someone that will help him rebuild his confidence.
  
• A teacher that is organized (in reality, not just by claim) and is on top of STI entries.
  
• A teacher that can maintain the order and discipline of her classroom without stripping the dignity of her students. Someone who can have a firm hand without breaking self esteem.
  
• Someone who welcomes parental involvement.
  
• A teacher with school spirit (someone we might run into at a football or basketball game).

   

   

I think she’s a little fired up about this year’s teacher debacle. I’m looking forward to what comes from this evaluation and if it helps with the year ahead.