Three Months

Today, my son is three months old. I can't believe how fast the time has gone by, and how much I already have missed out on.

Before Kai was born, I thought I'd be the kind of guy that would take a hundred pictures a day, that would want to go everywhere with my son.

And here I am, three months later, almost to the minute. And yet, my hard drive is not full of pictures. I have yet to take a single video of him. And what really sucks is that I can't shake the feeling that I'm not good enough of a father because of it.

As crass as it might sound, fatherhood is almost like a gym membership. Although I've worked out in the past, anyone that knows me (hell, anyone that sees me from even moderate distances) knows that I could use a little exercise. The closer Barbara's due date came, the more I was motivated to start working out again. I wanted to be a healthy, active father. So I signed up at a local gym, and was really excited about going. I went out and bought some new gym clothes and a padlock, and started thinking about my routines. When would I go? How long would I stay? How would my new workout schedule fit into my normal work routine?

So I went to the gym a few times, and was really pumped up about it. And then, nothing. I reverted to my old habits. I kept making excuses about why I couldn't go: I was busy at work, and couldn't take a long lunch break. I couldn't go after work, because I needed to get home to Barbara. I couldn't wake up early, because I'd be too tired to be productive at work.

And then Kai came along. At first, I was taking pictures of anything he did. And slowly, it stopped. I would find myself looking at him and thinking, "THIS IS SO CUTE! Where's the camera?" And upon realizing the camera was all the way upstairs, I would just shrug off the photo opportunity with similar excuses: I can't leave the baby for a minute to get the camera. It will take too long to get the camera that he won't be doing the same thing when I get back. He'll be just as cute tomorrow as he is right now, and I'll hopefully make sure to bring the camera downstairs by then.

And what's really depressing now, looking back at old (two months ago is OLD???) photos of him, that I barely remember what he looked like as a newborn because of how different he is now.


So wish me luck. I'm going to take more photos. I'm going to shoot some video. And I'm going to take my lazy ass to the gym.

Unless there's something good on TV...

Life and Death and Hope

There have been very few periods of my life that were filled with such contradicting and competing events and emotions. These past few days have been one of them.

September 11 was really the catalyst for my becoming a political junkie. Since then, I've developed an almost unhealthy addiction to reading news and opinion sources online. Like many liberals, I'd come to the conclusion that George Bush was one of the most blatantly disingenuous politicians in office, that the Administration would be one of the worst in American history, and that the Republican Party was running from it's limited government roots to embrace the worst aspects of religious fanaticism that's at the root of the problems we face in the Middle East.

Needless to say, I've been looking forward to today for a very long time. And now it's here.

This entire weekend, I'd basically been counting down the hours until the inauguration. I was so happy that my son would grow up knowing that Barack Obama was the president, much like (for better or worse) I grew up with Ronald Reagan.

So many of my friends have had babies just within the last 12 months. Kingston, Andrew, Cory Lynn, Cody Wrinn, Ashlyn, Gianna, Sophie, and Samuel. And, of course, Kai.

So much new life in the world, and so much to hope for.

Barbara and I took Kai to the beach for the first time on Saturday. We walked up and down the coast watching the sun slowly set over the cloudless horizon. It was beautiful and I hope I never forget the feeling of contentedness within me. The moment reminded me how much I truly love my wife and son, and how much I'm looking forward to watching him grow old.

We went back to the beach on Sunday to watch the sunset again, this time with family, friends, and a few pizzas. While we were there enjoying each other's company, we were interrupted by flashing lights and screaming sirens. Several lifeguard trucks had sped onto the beach and parked facing the water, with their lights still on. An ambulance pulled up beside them. About 10 or so people paddled out from the beach, looking around. A helicopter showed up a few minutes later, shining it's spotlight into the water. It was an odd feeling -- a mixture of uncomfortableness and guilt -- to sit around enjoying the evening and realizing that someone very likely had just died out in the dark water.

We stayed at the beach, transfixed, hoping against hope that we'd hear the good news that the surfer they were looking for was found, but after a while the search team paddled back to shore, the helicopter flew away, and we packed up our things and headed home.

For some reason, I checked my email before taking a shower that night. Awaiting me was a note informing me that a former colleague of mine had died of a heart attack a few years earlier. He was 30 years old, and left behind a wife and 5-month old son, Samuel.

That short note knocked the wind out of me. Not because Adam and I were very close, but because in the short time we worked together, I knew him to be a good man, a loving husband, and that he would have been a terrific father. He and I probably would have disagreed on almost everything outside of work, but in the office we shared a bond of software, sarcasm, and movie quotes. It was strange to meet someone who at once struck me as so totally opposite and yet so totally similar.

And at 30 years young, he's gone.


And now I'm left with this emotional cocktail of grief, guilt, anger, and awareness of my own mortality... and at the same time of tremendous happiness and excitement and hope and optimism.

Adam has reminded me that there are no small moments in life. I hope that I don't soon forget the lesson, and that I'm around long enough to teach it to Kai.


Stay safe, and if you love someone don't dare forget to tell them so.

So it goes.

I created this blog over a month ago and have yet to post anything on it. I originally intended to use it as a digital journal. As a new father, I've been overwhelmed with emotions and experiences that I would like to record. Not so much because I want to share them with the world (really, who the hell else is going to read this?) but because I don't want to forget some of the more interesting experiences that I know my brain will block out in an effort to cling to sanity.

But life is busy - Kai obviously consumes a lot of time, it was the holiday season, Betty moved in somewhat unexpectedly, and Barbara and I played host to two last-minute guests from Italy for 10 days. Oh, and we had to throw together a Christmas-eve dinner for 12 people with just a few hours notice!

So it goes.

Which is unfortunate, because a lot of stuff has happened these last two and a half months with the baby, and I already know that trying to write something now about the experiences from then won't feel genuine enough. I've already let go of most of the anger, frustration, resentment, and hopelessness every new parent surely must feel but few admit to.

But now Kai smiles sometimes when you play with him, and I believe it's because he's actually expressing happiness and not just showing a farting facial tick. He's beautiful. He's getting so big. Fat, actually. He always looked skinny to me, but in the last two weeks he looks like he's doubled in girth without growing any taller (er, "longer" in baby terminology).

Here's to looking toward the future.