Fatherhood

The day we were let out of the hospital, following Patrick's birth, was one of the most exciting in my life ... and most terrifying. We were taking our son home for the first time ... and, I was responsible for the lives of the two most important people in my life.  I quickly adjusted the rear view mirror so that I could see Jen ... Patrick was facing the rear at that point.  Also, as I drove, I was aware of EVERY movement that the cars around me made ... very few things in my life have affected me as strongly as that drive. We quickly got used to taking him around with us and eventually, he grew out of the infant seat and into a toddler seat where he could face forward.  Again, the mirror got adjusted so I could glance at him as I drove.  I certainly got better at using the side mirrors to monitor traffic. As children go, Patrick is an easy-going child (I know ... at this point). He does, occasionally, get tired of sitting in the car ... at this point, I've learned t

Patrick enjoys water ... in a glass, in a bottle, in a sports bottle, frozen (ice pops), in a bathtub, in a toilet, in a sink, in a plastic pool, from the hose, in a regular pool, in a lake, and in the ocean. Someday, the sound of water will drive other urges, but for now it's goo enough that he simply enjoys water. Amazingly, after only four days of walking ... he had already gotten his sea legs.  Walking on the rocking deck of a boat was no issue at all. Water in a glass ... using his tongue to reach down in, with half of it down his front ... can't forget cleaning his hands in the water glass before he tries to get a drink (quite an event). Water in a bottle ... drawing from it until the nipple caves in (oh yeah, and only one type of bottle will do, we know the difference). Water in a sports bottle ... just like grandma's (he'll take hers if his is not nearby, even though it's lemonade). Frozen as an Ice Pop ... great for irritated teeth, getting us a

I hate to say it, but I laughed ... out loud and hard. It was one of those belly laughs that hurts later ... too many in a day and my jaw gets sore. Unfortunately, I was laughing at Patrick as he walked into a door. It had a glass pane that went floor to ceiling. He got one hand on the door and pushed, just as you would at a store (in this case a museum). Then, his head followed his hands ... little feet pushing him along. As he pulled back and his tiny hand went to his mouth, I started to laugh. He looked at me with the beginnings of crocodile tears in his eyes (yes, I was ready to pull him to me if the tears started to flow). Then, ... he laughed with his Papa. I'm pretty sure he has no idea what was so funny, but it was awesome to see him trusting me enough to let go of the pain to laugh along with me.

Being an older (no, not infirm yet ... at least another day or two) father, I've gotten to enjoy quite a bit of time single (not that much fun, looking back) and even more so, being married without children. Now that I'm a father, some things are getting re-evaluated ... the '98 Ford Mustang GT that I fell in love with the first time I drove it, is one of those things. It is a big car ... not much room in the back, but his toddler seat fits. Sort of. The car's fast which he loves ... Mama, not so much when he's in the back seat.  It' a beautiful shade of blue which doesn't compensate for the dislocated shoulder at the hospital trying to reach the parking tag from the driver's seat. I have to admit that I have been re-thinking the Mustang's practicality while sitting in the back seat of my mother's Jeep Patriot with Patrick asleep on top of me (we are stopped at the moment), writing this post. The Mustang would never have worked for this

The door knob ... the back door at grandma and papaps house. Since Patrick's been able to recognize that the door handle had something to do with getting outside (we love anything that's not indoors), he's been battling to get at that door knob. It's his nemesis, his arch-enemy, his singular challenge in life. Once defeated, he can move on to the next one. But, until then, the battle rages on. Thankfully, he has not realized there is a deadbolt we can lock ... now that he can actually reach the knob.

No, not me ... Patrick. OK, not really Patrick ... only a comparison. Since he started walking, I've realized there are many similarities. Oh, and when I mentioned this article to Jen, she told me to tell you, "Our son is not a zombie."  No, he's not ... and, he has the same amazing heart I fell in love with in his mother. But ... back to the zombie ... It started when I was watching him walk. He had only started walking the day before ... lurching steps, arms out and occasionally falling down. He is always heading for or following one of us. Then I realized he bites like one, too. Right along with this one is the insatiable appetite. Now, I'll be laughing even harder the next time I see him with pizza sauce and ketchup all over his face. As his cousin pointed out, he often sounds like a zombie, too ... Zombies never leave you alone for long and take the most inopportune moment to make their presence know. Neither cares what they are wearing ...

I work on computers for a living.  I've been working on computers since I was ten years old ... 34 years, at this point.  And, even though it seems like I started only yesterday, I have found that my 14 month old son can teach me a thing or two ... Recently, he was playing on the mouse (in particular, with the wheel) and the icons on my screen started getting smaller.  Never having seen this type of a change with the mouse, I tried to duplicate what he was doing ... to no avail.  After some research (HOURS), I found out that with Windows Vista, you can hold down the Control Key and spin the wheel to change the icon size on the screen ... way to keep your father on his toes, Patrick! I realize that children today are getting more and more savvy with technology, but I truly never imagined being taught basic functionality by him before he at least reached the age of three.

We all had a rough night last night.  Apparently, when Patrick has teeth coming in, his rear end gets sore ... I don't know why, but once Jen and I made the correlation, my parents told me that's the way it was with me ... way, way, way back. He's got another tooth coming in ... and, both ends are in pain (getting better now ... rough last night). Trying to get him to sleep was challenging to say the least. I had to pat his lower back firmly while bouncing hard enough to make my calves sore in mere moments ... I wasn't given the option of just bouncing him with my arms (he could tell the difference).  Anything else resulted in screaming. As I finally got him to sleep, I was able to stop the patting and bouncing and sat down to let him get into a deeper sleep.  After about an hour, I put him into the crib ... Then, as Jen and I finally laid down, his little head popped up over the edge of the crib and another scream of pain was let out.  Again, I picked him up

Patrick was upset when his mother went outside without him (cooking on the grill).  I set Patrick down on his feet the floor in the sun-room.  He was grasping my fingers as he normally did.  I pulled by fingers free and lightly supported his elbows.  He started walking forward ... out of my hands and simply kept on going.  Baby steps (those words will never mean the same thing to me again), but walking. I quickly got ahead of him and got Jen's to come back to the door and she got to see about half of the first walk ... to her, at the door waiting for him!  Fifteen feet on the first walk ... awesome! He walked from the swing to his Mama ... diving into her arms after about ten feet! Inside a few minutes later, he crossed the living room lengthwise for about 30 feet of walking ... up onto the rug in the middle of the room. AND, later he walked about eight feet toward his Papap, falling for the first time in any of his efforts. I think at some level, he's been ready to

Here are a few warnings that I've seen that keep me laughing (OK, occasionally crying I am laughing so hard) ... DEAR LORD, someone call Hazmat. Warning: Part Monkey. Warning: Objects in fists may be closer than they appear. Warning: Mouth exceeds recommended noise levels.  Hearing protection advised. Warning: Laughter follows. Warning: Will have more energy than you can ever dream of. Warning: Remote Control will disappear in seconds. Warning: May Contain Small Monster Warning: You are advised to keep all hair, loose clothing, jewelry, etc. away from baby at all times. Approach at your own risk.  Parents are not responsible for any pain, injuries, or damages that will occur.

Having a child at 43 years old is not necessarily something I would recommend. The concept certainly scared me ... just becoming a father was frightening, let alone being older. But, my age has given me a depth of perspective that I'm pretty sure I would not have had earlier in my life.  The whole process has also been the second most amazing experience of my life ... marriage, the first! I would also like to believe that I am more mature (yes, I know there are those that would disagree with me there) and am more than willing to be as involved as Jen and Patrick will allow me to be in his life. I will, most likely, have to put retirement off ... put it also means that I am a bit more financially stable (if only more aware of what that means) than I ever managed in my twenties or thirties. Now, this does mean that I have to focus on living well since I would like to see my grandchildren and be around to get to know them.  I have been watching Patrick interact with my parents a

In a glass, in a sports bottle ... in a large tub, in a small tub, in a sink ... in a plastic pool, in a regular pool, in the ocean ... Patrick loves water. He'll climb in, have us lift him in, now and then, fall in ... sometimes we hold him over the sink with the water running as he puts his hands in.  We'll cup some water to wash off his face as his tongue comes out to get a drink (very cute by the way).  Patrick loves water. I'm told that at the pool the other day, Jen got into the pool with him on her shoulder then walked Patrick around the pool (he was tired at the time).  He loves the water so much that he fell asleep. A few days ago, I walked into the bathroom to see Patrick sitting in the sink, facing the mirror ... two of him, playing in the water and having an amazing time. If he's put into the sink, he'll stand for a bit, but generally he enjoys sitting there playing in the water.  We showed him the water coming from the hose outside the other d

OK, it's not just water, but let me have some  delusions.  This article gives a whole new meaning to baby shower  ... no cakes or presents this time.  Although, for all the times when fatherhood seemed challenging, this just makes me laugh. Patrick was less than an hour old ... one of the nurses was changing him when felt something warm on my chest.  He managed to pee on me when I was standing over five feet away! The nurses were kind enough to offer towels (although there was little odor at the time) and I did manage to get cleaned up. Since he's been home, we get the random "fountain" that is more humorous than anything else ... and most often, these fountains are for my benefit. It all started with one of his amazing smiles as I was changing his diaper ... something I'm not totally adverse to anymore.  As soon as the diaper was lifted off ... so, the flow began.  After several soakings, I've learned to watch for that smile ... with the diaper prep

This is advice that Bill Gates gave at a high school about things they did not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically correct teaching has created a generation of children with no concept of reality and how this concept sets them up for failure in real life. RULE 1 Life is not fair ... get used to it. RULE 2 The world will not care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself. RULE 3 You will NOT make 40 thousand dollars a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice president with a car phone, until you earn both. RULE 4 If you think your teacher is tough, wait until you get a boss. He doesn't have tenure. RULE 5 Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping they called it Opportunity. RULE 6 If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don'

Self-discipline is a principle that needs to be integrated into one's way of live life.  When it comes time for Patrick to learn learn the lesson, it will likely come as a constant progression through his early years, rather than as an abrupt checkpoint in his life . Self-discipline is not a personality trait or natural gift; it is something that can be encouraged and developed over time. Self-discipline is doing something you don't want to do but know you need to do for a long-term benefit.  Responsible adults generally become that way by choosing to deny the immediate impulses that cross their path and planning a course toward what they hope to achieve. Being committed to raising a responsible child, I must make the effort to teach Patrick self-discipline. I know that there are a few basics when it comes to self-disciple. An individual with self-discipline needs to: Have a Goal. Have opportunity to Practice. Maintain a steady Pace when working toward t

It started with an attempt to crawl that looked more like something the military spent weeks getting me to perfect (the "low crawl") ... Patrick got that down in a few minutes.  After all the photos, videos, and calls to our grandparents, we marveled at how amazing our son was. Then, the crawl became something that involved all four limbs; quite a bump up from just his arms.  It wasn't long before he was moving quick enough to get his fingers into the door as I was closing it. The primal scream of pain was unreal ... yet, all too real.  The little man's finger was dented ... I still feel a bit guilty today and it has been months since the incident. Then, just as Patrick was getting the crawling down, he managed to pull himself into a standing position without any help.  About that time, he took a nose dive off the bed into a popcorn bowl ... it was hard not to laugh as he cried in pain. He loved playing with a fire engine that he can sit on and in no time, h

Here is a task I think I was meant to take on. I used to be a computer nerd ... pretty much in every way you can imagine one defined in the late 70s and early 80s.  Then, one day, my sister walked in and saw me managing three machines: one online, one being cleaned up, and one rendering a 3d modeled video I was creating.  Realize that this was sometime around 1986 when personal computers were really just coming into existence with some regularity. She made a comment that stuck with me ... "you're not a computer nerd, you're a computer squid." Computer Squid  ... it stuck.  Over the years, I've joked about that comment with a brother's fondness ... Now, I'm a father ... and being a computer squid has taken on a whole new meaning.  Working on projects that I used to just warn Jen about is now a thing of the past.  Projects are now assembling toys that take not just a Masters in Engineering, but a fluency in any one of a half dozen languages beyond

I felt helpless and he was helpless ... what an amazing way to start a life. "I think what scared us the most was they hand you this helpless thing, wheel you down to the car, and wave goodbye as you drive off.  And, there is no owner's manual; nothing to help you with the next 18 years." (J. Higgins)  Wow ... there's more than a little truth there. The first few days in the hospital were pretty good.  There were plenty of people to help, both hospital staff and family stopping by ... they'd even take him (happily) if we needed rest. I did learn, while we were there, how protective I could be.  Patrick was circumcised.  And, almost an hour after they took him for the procedure we walked down to get him.  Big mistake.  Apparently, we should have waited ... the doctor had finished just before we arrived.  As the nurse applied an ointment, Patrick let out a wail unlike anything I've ever heard before or since.  Had the doctor been within arms length,

... About Becoming a Father Now that I've been a father for just over a year, I've noted a few things that I was never told. Many people offered some simple advice to me: You're going to love it; It's a lot of work; and Your life's going to change. Others often threw out a mere "you'll see" with a smirk. That smirk seems to be a secret handshake among parents, in which they are sworn not to reveal all the things they didn't tell me. Changing diapers can often be a near-death experience. If the sight of doesn't drop you to your knees, then the smell will. Packaging and disposing of the diaper often poses an added problem ... with a kicking and screaming child in the mix. The devices designed to reduce odors have attempted to take off my untrained hand, several times. I would also recommend a full-body biohazard suit for this hazardous duty. A small child will hurt you. Sometimes badly. He doesn't mean too, but he can. The u

What a way to introduce a child on solid food. It was a Friday night when Patrick was about three months old, sitting on his grandfather's lap, as we were eating dinner.  Typically on Fridays we have pizza ... and this Friday was no different. What was different was Patrick's focus.  He was generally aware of the people around him at that point, but this time he was focused on the pizza.  In particular, he was watching as his Papap lifted the pizza from the plate to take a bite and then back again as he put it down. After about the third bite, Patrick started to lean toward the pizza with an open mouth. We all laughed for a bit ... it was cute.  Then, it got interesting as Papap put a slice of pizza into Patrick's mouth.  He immediately started to gum the pizza (no teeth at this point).  He got some cheese and a bit of crust, but mostly he was taking in the pizza sauce ... and loving every bit of it . Our little man's first solid food ... pizza! Wi

I don't know if all children do this, but we have noticed that Patrick has distinct and varying favorite activities that he does with each individual he knows.  He remembers which activity goes with which person and we are rarely allowed to change them up (sometimes, we are not allowed to change them up at all). With his grandmother, he want's to eat, drink, and/or play with anything that's hers.  She had to use a cane for a while and to this day, it is one of the most amazing toys for him.  The walker became his "Cadillac" ... to ride in around the house.  He loves the snacks and drinks, especially when it's from the containers she is using. With his grandfather, he loves to sit back and watch financial news reports or sports.  We can generally count on Papap putting him to sleep at least one night a week this way. With his mother, he'll sit patiently as she reads him a book ... not with anyone else.  He also loves to hear her sing "Itsy-Bit

... in the Car When I was little (much closer to Patrick's age and size ... and yes, I realize that was quite  a while ago) my parent would to put me in the car and drive around to get me to sleep.  It was apparently effective enough for them to mention it to us when we brought Patrick home. This trick works ... Patrick falls into such a deep peaceful sleep, I really hate to turn the engine off some days. ... in the House There are times when I wonder if the car wouldn't be a better option.  We get him to sleep on our shoulder ... then make any attempt to place him in the crib and he is instantly awake.  We get him to sleep between us ... and again, any attempt to lift him to carry him to the crib and he's awake. This is not "sleepy eyes, smiling at me" awake ... this is I'm irritated and I need as many people to know as I can manage.  For an amazingly pleasant child, he can crank out the decibels when he wants to. We've tried letting him cry

During Patrick's first year, I believe he wore shoes one time (at his baptism).  Now that he's been moved to the toddler room at school, he get to go outside ... an activity that he loves.  This comes with it the requirement that he have shoes that he can wear while at school. I figured that we would have a good fight on our hands ... getting him to consistently wear his shoes.  But, to my surprise there was no issue.  In fact, I can almost say that he likes wearing them.  Now, having said that, he definitely enjoys it when he gets to take the shoes off. From the article First Things First : Recently, I got to watch Patrick figure out not just how to put his feet into my shoes, but he took a step; quite a feat (I know ...  feet ) for such a little man.  The smile on his face was one of pure joy. He has tennis shoes, dress shoes, Crocs, and more!

... in my Child. I really don't want him to be a character ... I want to help him develop "strength of character." I have always enjoyed the challenges in my life, or more correctly I enjoy solving the issues that arise.  I love solving complex problems in situations that call forth my personal strengths ... ingenuity, imagination, teamwork, experienced judgment, persistence, and will power.  Every day at work, I solve problems through the exercise of these strengths.  I know that the greatest challenge I face will be raising my child well. Knowing this, I realize that there is no clear cut path that I can take when faced with the challenge of being a good father to Patrick as he grow and develops ... and no single correct path I need to take to "solve this problem." I need to remember, as Patrick grows up, to  encourage  him rather than being just a critic in his life.  I know that it is tempting at times to focus on the mistakes of others, while ign

For those that have been enjoying the humor in my posts ... sorry, this one's more serious. I've been thinking about what I need to do, as Patrick's father, when he gets older and transitions into a young adult, then to manhood. I need to be a role model .  It is my firm suspicion that there nothing more important to raising a responsible young man than modeling the behavior I hope he will embrace when he becomes a man.  Patrick will learn more from watching how I react and behave in given circumstances than he will from almost anything I tell him.  Jen pointed out the other day that I can get quite irritable with other drivers ... to the point of getting vocal (yes, I can yell and scream at times).  I definitely need to change that type of behavior, before he learns it from me. I need to teach him how to  properly  plan for the future .  Too many men go through life just reacting to what is happening around them ... I know I spent a lot of my life this way (prior t

Patrick's has had an amazing smile since very early on ... not long after he opened his eyes, when he was much smaller than he is now.  I watched in awe as his first tooth came in ... then my father and I spent many days and nights allowing him to chew on our finger tips and knuckles, attempting to sooth his pain. More teeth arrived in quick succession ... again, the gnawing of our fingers and knuckles along with a bright smile.  This time our thumbs took the brunt of his teething.  His teeth were all on top at this point, so again, it was amusing. Next, the lower teeth came in as his smile brightened the room even further.  As a new father, I figured things were going very smoothly, although I had to make sure my thumb nail was facing his teeth to take the brunt of the bite ... pretty sharp for teeth that small. Now, he's got a pretty good set of tiny teeth on top and on bottom, with a glorious smile that melts my heart.  We've had to stop the biting as it has gott

"I'm building my family tree one child at a time." I remember making this lighthearted joke, not long after Patrick was born. I've been working on our family history for several decades.  Working on computers for a living (and for fun), I've learned a lot about this type of research.  My grandmother got me started ... and encouraged my interest in my family history.  With her assistance, I've compiled quite a bit of information about our family tree and quite a few stories about the people on the tree. Many times, months of research resulted in nothing ... occasionally, some small thread would lead to some larger find.  I've researched lines into the American Revolution (my grandmother always wanted to join the DAR).  I've traced many lines overseas ... Germany, Italy, Ireland, Poland / Austria, and more. But, nowhere along the way have I had such an exciting addition to our tree.  In all my years of tracking down family members, verifying st

Due to timing (my new job), Jennifer's been handling a lot of the delivery, both to and from day-care lately.  Patrick seems none the worse for wear, but I do miss the look on his face as he recognizes people he knows in the morning and the look of pure joy as he spots me in the afternoon. A few days ago, I got to drop him off and pick him up due to a change in Jen's work schedule. What an experience this was.  The drop off went normal ... it was when I went to pick him up that I got a bit of a shock ... I knew, logically, that Patrick was being moved up to a new room.  Basically, he is still assigned to the infant room, but spends part of the day with the toddlers; getting him acclimated to the new teachers, room, and schedule.  Soon, he will be in the new room for toddlers full time. What I wasn't prepared for was how small and fragile the infants were.  I do remember holding him with one arm and remarking to myself how small and fragile  he was.  I also remember

I remember finding out my wife was pregnant; it was uplifting and a bit terrifying at the same time.  A few months later, hearing his heartbeat through the fetal monitor, I was amazed that it could move so fast.  That was the point I think I truly realized where we were headed.  I began to think about what our child's life was to be life ... Throughout Patrick's life, there have been many firsts ... some would say they are all firsts, but these are the ones that locked in as a memory (for me). I can still distinctly remember the first sounds Patrick made when he was being fed ... how can any of us that heard it ever forget that coo.  Not long after that, we got to see his first smile for his grandmother. Neither are we likely to ever forget the effort put in to getting him to crawl.  I do believe he knew what we were doing and just waited for us to let our guard down.  He did eventually get moving, in his own time ... and most likely won't be stopping any time

Watching a life develop into a person is a truly amazing experience. My son loves to hug people that he knows (this may apply to people he doesn't know, but we keep a pretty close leash on him at this point, so it's hard to tell).  Patrick has been generous with his hugs since he was just a few months old.  At this point in his life, he even understands when we ask him for a hug.  It is very cute and makes everyone feel wonderful. Since I've always been the kind of person that fully enjoys a good hug, I have certainly enjoyed this part of becoming a father. As he's grown and developed, the hugs I've truly grown to enjoy are those where Jen and I are hugging and Patrick lets us know he wants involved.  With his arms stretched toward us and a beautiful grin on his face, the intent is unmistakable.  Once we pick him up, he gets an arm around each of us and pulls hard, bending in, and warming our hearts.  Even more recently, when one of us has been holding him, he