Blogger Hibernation

I've been told for many many years, I should "write."

I've always loved the idea, felt I was an articulate writer and even though I didn't know all the past tense, present tense, sub-context yadda yadda yadda, I felt somehow I learned how to write in an organized, interesting-to-read sort of way.

But this blog taught me something.

"A writer writes," once said Mark Twain.

I don't write. I think about writing. I like thinking about writing. But truth be known, I feel like I have learned something here and maybe I am not a writer.

Do I have what it takes? I've asked myself that ever since I began The Dadman Diaries. I gave myself the chance; the benefit of the doubt.

Answer? I don't believe I do have what it takes. At least, not right now.

I won't simply delete this blog or close out this blog. I love the name, and I love the opportunity to share our family amongst family.

But I am thinking an answer might be that I am going into Winter Hibernation. No pressure to write about something that is something it is not. If I wrote about the regular everyday stuff - well, then you've already heard about it when you called.

I'll probably publish a post here and there, but without the pressure to do so on a regular basis - so feel free to get curious and check back every now and then.

Big Hugs. Huge Smile.

Happy Blog Retirement?

Nah - just Blogger Hibernation.

10/24/09

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The Eyes of a Five-Year-Old

The Eyes of a Five Year Old

So I found this card - it's pretty funny in a silly sister-of-mine-sort-of-way:

This cracked me up. This is SO my sister's sense of humor.

I bought the birthday card. I drove it around in my truck for a few weeks... It sat on our counter for days. A Garfield Calendar once said, "Never Put Off Until Tomorrow, What You Can Do The Day After."

(hey couldn't that SO be my Mission Statement?)

I've read this thing like 20 times and it cracks me up EVERY time. Michele has even read this card maybe...50 times...because I keep saying, "Here, Read this! This cracks me up everytime!"

(Especially when she's trying to cook supper, Matthew is crying, all tangled up in her feet; I'm on my third beer and we are all crowding her in our one-butt kitchen screaming, "Here, Read this! This cracks me up EVERY time!) She is never amused.

But this is October - my sister's birthday was in September - and oh hell no, I am not about to carry this card around with me for another 11 months...

(Because, if I did - I'd find it again a year and a half later on top of the refrigerator under the potato chip bowl... Note: Can't find a particular return address torn from an envelope? - this is where you need to look if you are at our house)

I contemplated cutting this card in two and sending the cover as a Postcard. A particular other sister of ours recycles Christmans cards this way as Thank You's. Very creative. I love the idea.

David grabs the card tonight and looks at it for the first time.

"AWWWW this is funny - look! They have BumBums just like us! Look at their BumBums!"

Michele and I stare blankly at each other.

Silly kid. Can't even read. How'd he get the whole "hiney bee" joke? And we send him off to bed.

Silly kid. Figures, you know our kid - he'd turn it into a poopie-butt thing...

About a half hour later I go to put it on top of the fridge, under the potato chip bowl... and "Oh wait a minute! Michele, LOOK!"

We are still laughing. We are SO mailing this card to my sister even if it is not her birthday.

Gotta love what a five-year-old sees - and (yikes!) What we don't!

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A Little Something About How Things Change

This morning, David is bringing toy cars out to the patio. Matthew is imitating him, but empty-handed. Following in his footsteps, jibbering away - like he is talking, but not making any sense whatsoever.


I'm drinking my coffee, book in hand, but it is SO unread as I watch the two boys, interacting, sharing, scolding and leaving to bring back more toys they thought of, but did not elaborate clearly enough for this adult to understand.....somehow they both knew....

I got thinking, if I ever do die before them, I'd want a chair set aside for me, because the BEST THING IN THE WHOLE WORLD is just sitting back, watching them be themselves. It is way cool. I do this most Saturday and Sunday mornings, and it is the BEST.

Today, Matthew stops halfway through his third or fourth trip and raises his arms. This is his signal to pick him up. Typically, Matthew is the restless type; a quick hug, armpit tickle and he's off to the next dead bug or to see what's been put in the garbage can in the last 10 minutes.

This time though, I pick him up and he puts his head back, against my shoulder and just rests. Let me say that again, Matthew just rests... he sits there, quietly. Looks at the trees, listens to the airplane overhead and points to the gecko on the fence...and just sits there....I can feel his heartbeat... and he just sits there...


Big deep breath.

Sometimes I feel a sense of loss, like I am looking for a renewed passion in life at my age to replace my previous passion. And selfishly I want the new passion to be even better than the previous passion because, well, because it just should and then my Life would be Complete and Happy, ya know? Selfish? Mid-life crisis?

Yet...something as simple as my son sitting with me, resting, his head back, all comfortable, and doing it long enough that I can feel like it will last forever, is something amazing. It is an amazingly cool feeling.

I am beginning to realize, as much as I want to fight it, that things change. Having kids is fulfilling; just watching them gives me a sense of completeness, a sense of fulfillment, but in a completely different, surprising way.

Is it fair to ask, as a Father and a Husband and a Man to let go of this question of Passion? Realizing that all the previous passion in Life was the path that got me to the state where I am now?

And I am actually now complete and fulfilled?

It is a hard question to answer. .. Sometimes I think the answer is a convertible Karmen Ghia and a bottle of Tequila. Wifeless. Kidless......

Most times though, I give up asking. This particular Dadman goes and buries his nose into his son's armpit until he laughs like he's crying, and then he goes inside, argues with the wife and just hopes that all that fulfillment and completeness crap is right around the corner....

Please tell me - Does any of this make sense? Does anyone else ever question all this stuff?

Will the Red Sox make it to the World Series?

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