Sangria

My wife and I have made a concerted effort to stay "dating" while we are married.  Our children on the other hand, do all they can to make this impossible.  So the other day we decided we were over due for a date.  

When we first got married the concept of a weekly date was not only a blast, but easy.  Heck I think we likely managed to get at least two or three dates a week depending on our finances.  Being able to continue dating my wife was not a challenge to fit into our lifestyle.  Close to five years later, and three children later, finances play a large part in limiting our dating life, but the kids play a bigger role.  As a family, my wife and I do a fine job going out and really engaging in wonderful family time.  Within the last year though our weekly date, turned into a bi-weekly date, into a monthly date, and I'm sure we even had a few that were a "when was our last date?"

What was so wonderful about this last date was the theme, we sat at a wonderful little Tapas Bar, and shared all our food over a cool glass of sangria.  The entire "miniature" feast was a perfect way to connect, as everything on the table is meant to be shared.  a small plate of peppers, a small plate of ceviche, a cool bowl of gazpacho, slices of flat bread with spanish sausage, croquettes, and empanadas.  What was so wonderful was just a single plate of each of these things and you share it all.  As we sat enjoying the warm summer night with our cool drinks and wonderful tapas, we enjoyed just being together.  We talked about everything, and took time to focus on "us" rather than all the chaos that our life can feel like at times.  

As we connected our conversation turned to thoughts about "staying connected with others."  I sat thinking about how odd it can be that you can see someone a lot and slowly grow apart, or rarely see someone and stay as close as ever.   What occurs to make this happen?  Is it apathy, just life changes and stages, or is it something else.  Almost without exception this occurs in all relationships I found, family, friends, and even parent to child.  "Dates" aren't feasible with everyone I realize, and a regularly scheduled date even less so, but I think the concept of a "date" could benefit a lot of relationships.

It almost seems as if with all our ways to connect, with Facebook, email, and text messages, we have lost connecting, and just check-in.  I'm living here, doing this, working there, busy with x, y, or z.   All these updates come in "status update" size amounts.  (The irony is I will advertise this post on Facebook)

In fairness the effort of staying connected can be Herculean at times, and lives fill up with more friends it seems, and not less.  In the end it goes back to the weekly, bi-weekly, monthly dates my wife and I get.  Ultimately even when too much time goes by the quality of such connections we hope goes up, in order to sustain us until the next date.  And with friends and family, perhaps the content and quality of limited connections can necessitate improvement in order to stay connected.  I know I am definitely guilty of going through the motions with all my relationships at times.  Lives with all these relationships move and and change quickly.  Before you know it the path you used to be near a friend on has turned into each of you walking in very different directions, and it just isn't feasible to stay connected.  Perhaps your respective paths are still close, and you didn't realize it because it had been so long since you last connected you just assumed connection was not possible.  Finally it could be as simple as someone is hurting, and connecting with anyone is an extraordinary challenge.

We finished sharing our food, and walked around Old Town Pasadena, we got a cup of coffee, picked up some clothes at a store, and held hands.  Our dates today revolve more around our thoughts about family, faith and our marriage, and insuring we are staying on the same path together.

Life over a cool glass of Sangria at Bar Celona in Pasadena, California

A Short Story - Fathers Day 2010

Drew April 1st 2007

"When you get married, you never realize how much you will talk about poop and pooping."

Heather looked at me as if I was crazy, and quickly glanced at Chris her boyfriend (she would later marry him.)   I wasn't being clear I realized, and had to save some face before they thought my wife and I had become some kinky internet fad marriage.

"Not each others poop, no no no.  I mean you talk about your kids poop a lot."  The looks on their faces had not changed enough to imply I had saved face.  Nope, they think my wife and I are freaks...

I start over again, this time with the story first.   It went something like this...

Changing diapers is sort of like an adventure with a new baby, or a box of See's candies without any good chocolates.  The best part about a first child is that you can ask for a tag team even if one is not necessitated.  Inevitably if you call a tag team enough you will need it, and on a warm early spring afternoon my wife and I went to change Drew's diaper.  We had all our brand new baby things, wipes, a fancy changing table that doubled as a pack-n-play.  Showing off my diaper changing prowess, I undid the onesie, put the fresh diaper under the old diaper and got the wipes ready.

With Drew, speed was the main order of business when it came to diaper changes.  If you moved too slow the warm air, or cold air, or the I have no idea what air made him pee, and pee every where including himself he did.  So if you are going to change this kid's diaper you better be all set.  My wife would undo the diaper I would grab his ankles life him up and start wiping, with my wife in all set to start wiping as I went for another wipe.  If it was a bad diaper you'd better be set to have five wipes ready to go without pausing or there would be pee everywhere.

Three wipes down, just about clean, and when you are a new parent you use way too many wipes anyways here comes wipe four.  I reach down for the wipe, still holding his ankles up in the air, moving in for maybe the last wipe when there was a poo explosion.  I didn't say event, or even a toot, not a little mess, no I said explosion, and that was just it, an explosion.  I guess me holding Drew's legs in the air, causing him to crunch his tummy, or maybe it was just "perfect" timing.  As I stood there, moving in to finish cleaning Drew, he shot poop clear across the room.  I deftly dropped Drew's butt on the changing pad and my wife and I jumped out of the way like a dodge ball was flying by us.  There was poop on the wall 5 feet away, the carpet, the super great changing pad, the new diaper, our clean wipes, his shirt, his clothes.  Everything was covered in poop.

So I grabbed a clean diaper, pre-prepped five or so wipes, because when you change Drew, you gotta be quick...

Viura

As I arrived home for work, my day ended, I was tired, a little hungry, but mostly excited about a night of sports on the couch.

I have watched so many Lakers finals  over the years.  Some of my most fun memories are easily from watching Laker games.  I remember in 2000, I was up at a church summer camp, Fr. Mike brought a small little 10 inch black and white tv and we watched a static filled game and saw Kobe and Shaq bring the first title to LA.  Years later, a young adult, in my apartment with friends beer, video games and a good time.  Our apartment was a mess, but the game was great, a true vision of a bachelor enjoying basketball.  

Here I am 10 years from me being a young man, a counselor for a youth camp that meant so much to me, sitting with my wife having a nice glass of vino.  The fact that I was drinking wine actually says a lot.  As I was driving home I remembered I didn't have any beer, I figured I could stop at Ralphs and buy a six pack, after all Game 7 of a Basketball finals with a few bottles of Fat Tire sounded like a good time.  But I knew my kids were dying to see me and I was dying to see them.

When I got home, drew was in the kitchen listening to Lion King.  His new favorite CD.  Sean was playing in the play room, and they both gave me big hugs.  I sat on the couch and smiled, while I held Sean in my arms and the Lakers played.  Sean would yell "Go POW, Go POW, Go POW!"  Drew cheered for Kobe, Cristina rested on the love seat and Eva in her papasan.  I had to laugh inside, what a great "Daddy moment."  Ten years ago I watched a championship game in the hills of Santa Barbara on a 7" or 10" black and white TV, years later I watched the Lakers in the finals lose to the Pistons with empty beer bottles and pizza boxes with a healthy dose of Xbox.

Today, a mere 10 years later, I ate a blue cheese meat loaf with garlic mash, fresh squash and zucchini from my garden, and a nice glass of wine, talk about metamorphosis.  All the while, each memory of watching those games was ideal in my mind.

My garden take

As the NBA ads said this year, "this is where amazing happens."  That just seems on point, I am constantly amazed at where life leads you, the gifts I have been given, but more over how seamless the transition is. The ways I have changed as a person in that time seem huge in hindsight, but almost a perfect shift when I look closely at it.  From a camp counselor, to a college student, to a college graduate, to meeting my wife, getting married, and having kids.  All the while feeling great about each shift, but unable to predict when or where the next shift takes me.  

I wonder where life will be the next time I watch the Lakers win the championship.

Life over a glass of Viura (Condesa De Sarabella 2009 from Spain)

  

Pinot Grigio

At some point I became a dad.

Outside of the literal moment in time I became a dad, that was the "you became a biological dad," but I don't believe that a dad is a blood bond alone, or required.  No, being a dad is a lot more than that.  But tonight the wife and I were sitting, watching TV, drinking a glass of vino, and I realized, wait a second, "I'm a dad..."

I know, I know, it took me having a third kid to realize I am a dad.

This is all a bit more complicated, as you can imagine.  Over the next few days leading up to Father's Day I will share a few "Daddy" Moments.

See, I mean, I've had more than a few "Daddy" moments, but with Sean now about 2, things are sorta starting to repeat themselves, and to be honest it is rather creepy.

About 5 years ago I got married, and when my wife and I were newlyweds we would sit on the couch and drink a glass, or a bottle of wine and enjoy the evening.  We had Drew about a year and a half after our wedding, and it took a good 6 months to sit back down and have a glass of wine with my wife,  this was of course "interrupted" by my wife and I repeating that whole pregnant thing.  This time, it took 6 months for that night with a glass of wine again, and well again, this time about 6 months went by, a third baby in 3 years descended upon our home.  Come to think of it, maybe this wine on the couch...I digress.

Here we are, a third, and in all likelihood final kid is born, and we aren't waiting 6 months for the wine, it happened after 3 months.  This revelation alone is not what solidified my realization about fatherhood.

While driving home, I talked with my brother about our kids, and started talking about my boy Sean who is about 2.  He is a talker, but I'll be damned if I can understand him sometimes, and it has been like this for a while.  At first I started thinking he may have a speech delay, but soon it was apparent that I was unfairly comparing him to his very articulate brother.  Just the other week Sean really started hitting a groove with his talking, and yesterday it smacked me in the head with how articulate he had become.

"Daddeee! I want water!"

Me being a lazy dad sitting at the computer "Go ask mama"

"No Daddeee.  You get it"

I mean not only was he talking in 4 and 5 word sentences, he was calling his old man out, and he isn't even two yet.  That moment smacked me in the face with; "Oh man, I'm a dad."

Life over a glass of Pinot Grigio (2008 Gaetano D'Aquino Italian) And we did finish the bottle.

Fresh Squeezed Orange Juice

I sat down for breakfast with my family and my In-Laws.  My wife and I thought it would be fun to take them out for their 50th wedding anniversary.  Breakfast out with my kids is an adventure unto it's self, but they took us up on the invitation.

We sat down at a nice big round table, the restaurant was full of young families and grand-parents, a very fun scene.  Even with the dull roar of children in all corners of the room we still managed to have a nice conversation and time together.

Anytime you sit with a couple who have shared 50 years of marriage together, I figure you should take the opportunity to ask about marriage in general.  Outside of a few jokes here and there, when it was all broken down it was almost "simple."  My mother-in-law put it, I think rather perfect, and I paraphrase, marriage is all about how you react in the hard times.

It doesn't really get more apt than that.  Being married when it is fun, silly, whimsical, relaxing and engaging isn't hard.  I hear things like, marriage is "work", I don't agree, marriage isn't work, marriage is an opportunity every day to choose to do the thing that will strengthen the marriage, and sometimes that "thing" is not what you want to do.

When you are in a fun time of marriage or a silly time, or a relaxed time, and choosing to do what will strengthen your marriage is spend 10 more minutes laughing as a family, or keep walking with your wife, then marriage is easy.  When what your marriage really needs is you to wake up with your screaming kid and you are both exhausted, or when a spouse loses a job, or quits a great one and you need to bite your tongue when they look for support and you want to scream about responsibility, marriage is challenging.  Your opportunity to strengthen your marriage isn't always so dramatic, it can be as simple as choosing to fix a broken light, or take out the trash, or get the coffee ready, instead of 10 more minutes on Facebook or watching TV.

When Emilia mentioned the hard times though, she was honest, she mentioned that she thought most marriages ended over money problems, and they have been lucky enough to avoid money worries for 50 years.  But my In-Laws have had far more than their fair share of tragedy and tough times; so lacking money problems is only fair.  The tough times though are that way because in the dead of winter, it can be hard to remember what spring is like, and when it is so dark out you can hardly see your hand, and you are lost, thinking about the sunrise is not easy.  When marriage, or any relationship for that matter, is in a truly dark time remembering that the sun will rise is key, it won't stay dark forever.

I often wonder what it must have been like that Good Friday after Christ died.  To go home, your best friend, savior, messiah, dead on a cross.  Do you eat dinner?  I know you cry, but maybe you don't, maybe you are so numb you can't do anything, and yet the sun rises the next day and reality hits you, this is real, He's gone. You likely spend another day morning the loss, and probably don't eat much again.  You try to sleep , and again you don't sleep, so in the early morning you walk to the tomb, and as the sun rises...

I'm lucky, at almost 5 years of marriage, or 1/10th my In-laws, I can't really think of any time I sat down thinking, man this is so dark, hard and impossible to deal with when is the sun going to rise, but what better lesson in marriage than that.  After 5 years, I have still not felt cold or alone, so when that time comes, I know that I have been fortunate enough to experience a glorious spring time of marriage, and that the winter won't last forever.

Life over a cup of fresh squeezed orange juice.

My Morning Cup

As I was driving with my morning cup this morning, traffic was light and I was cruising at 70 while listening to the radio.  I tried as I normally do to call family, but didn't have any luck.  Things were going like any typical day, and then I slammed on my brakes.

I guess my 70 wasn't fast enough today.  A gold Nissan Sentra decided to weave into my lane, and the low and behold I was doing 70 and not faster since the car in front was going 70 as well and there wasn't much room.  This event alone is nothing new.  I drive on the freeway a lot, and people are in a hurry.  I get cut off almost daily, and without fail I see a car going 95-100 during peak traffic time.  Today though, it sorta clicked.

I start slowly in the morning, not because I'm slow waking up, but because I refuse to hurry if I can at all avoid it.  I wake up, and almost regardless of time I eat a relaxed breakfast.  I drink my cup or two of coffee slowly, I shower without being in a hurry, I do shave fast, but I hate to shave.  When I get in my car I should probably rush, cause if I hit bad traffic it could be a problem.  But I need my day to wind up slow.

Some days feel like a marathon, and you don't start a marathon with a sprint.  So I build up, but all this got me thinking this morning.  "Man, people rush."

This can't be a freeway thing, or a city thing, it is like this everywhere.

I was at school with my son, and sure enough as I was walking out to the car two boys in the upper school went sprinting out to the end of the sidewalk.  This was not a casual race, this was a sprint, to the end of the sidewalk...And one boy won. I guess. Then they walked to their car with their mom.  When I was a kid I did this all the time, I'd race to the car, race to the front door, to my room, race eating dinner, eating desert.  But I lived in a competitive house.  Seeing these two boys at my kids school was the start, but I saw it everywhere.  Come to think of it they make expressions for this "Hurry up...and wait"  All day you see people accelerate from red light to red light.   The entertainment business is built on this concept, hurry up and then wait for light, a star, weather, anything really.

I don't get it.

Okay, I understand it, I see the reasoning behind it, but definitely not the logic.  In the end, it seems to me like ultimately we have all lost in this rush.  I think when we as people no longer stop to realize there is a world out there to look at, and cars besides our own little car, our own important job, our own plans, we've really lost our humanity.




Well, at least we rushed to do that.

Life over A cup of Coffee, Black (Trader Joe's Fair Trade Organic Bolivian Blend)

A California Poppy

While sitting outside in beautiful Moorpark, not a cloud in the sky and a slight breeze from the east I watched a good friend get married.  At this stage in my life, every summer usually amounts to more than a few weddings I get to attend.

Weddings to me are an incredible event.  Having no experience as a sociologist I won't pretend to know much about them, save for what I have experienced.

To date I have been to weddings in a hall, outside, in a garden, at a hotel, a golf course, a horse track, and of course in a church.  Which got me thinking about other life events that are so huge and universal, and yet totally unique to the individual.  You have 17 year olds getting married, and 80 year old folks.  With kids, without kids, pregnant, maybe even dying.  There are people who want nothing more in the world then the "right" to get married, and people who think other people shouldn't get married.  Regardless of politics and religion, this is astounding.

The fact remains that practically without exception this is a universal tradition.  So, as my friend walked down the aisle I was  immediately transported to my wedding, and as much as I wish that day would never fade from the crystal clear memory I had of the moment, 3 children have a funny way of completely ransacking your ability to remember much of anything.  A brief list of best for me that day.

My wife and I loved our wedding

Best Advice - Just before you see your wife to be with her dad, take a deep breath, look all over the church and really take in the moment, the smells, the music, the faces in the crowd, really absorb it.

Best Connection with Guests - My wife and I were the eucharistic ministers for the mass, and as the majority of guests came for communion, I got to share a sacramental connection with each of them.

Best Kiss - The second one, after the priest said "you may now kiss the bride" and we kissed, we paused and my wife asked for another kiss, I love that memory.

One more

As I sat outside at the reception and I watched the throngs of children playing, it reminded me of my wedding and all the kids playing at our wedding.  I know there is much debate about yes or no on children at a wedding, who is invited and who isn't, but for my wife and I, and obviously my friends this past weekend, kids were a must.  In the end, the spirit and life children bring to any event is remarkable, but what better way to epitomize celebrating a marriage of people, families and the start of a new family then with children running all over and enjoying life.

As my sons were dancing and running around, my baby was being passed from friend to friend and my wife and I visited with old friends.  Probably the mix of alcohol, music and care free time, makes this environment perfect for visiting.  We talked about where life has led us all, how we were all doing and what was new.  What a remarkable event this is, life seemed to me to be actually more about going from wedding to wedding to wedding, and less about other events.  You start with your parents wedding, to yours, and your children's wedding, and grandchildren, and perhaps even
great-grandchildren.  All along the way catching up with friends at each friends wedding and even their children's wedding.

It seems appropriate that the melding of two families is universally seen as a most important milestone in the life of anyone.  As wonderful as my wedding has been, it is hard for me to think that others see marriage, a wedding; and this moment, day, and life-long journey together as, "Not a big deal."  With the exception of my kids being born I can't think of any other moment of my life that is even close to the shear awe I felt at my wedding.

So I sat and had my featured drink of the wedding, a "California Poppy," and let the whole event flow over me.  I felt lucky to have been invited to such a special time in my friends life.

Life over a "California Poppy" (Rum, Orange Banana Juice, Club Soda, simple syrup and to garnish, a mint leaf with a wedge of lime)

A Sippy Cup

Drew had a first the other day, and the fact that it took 3 1/2 before this revelation, impressed me.

The other night Drew was going to bed, and being the master negotiator he is, got out of bed and asked me for books and a toy. Any excuse to get out of bed, he takes, and this is just another one he uses. Since Cristina and I have no problem with him reading in bed, and taking a toy or two to sleep with him he knows is a "reasonable" request. I told him to go back to bed and I would bring him a book and a toy. He ran to his room and a moment later...Thud. Usually this isn't followed by anything. Drew falling out of his bed is not a very rare occurence and he usually just gets back in his bed.  Not this time.  Shrieks of pain are all I hear.

I run in the room, Drew is standing by his clock holding his mouth crying.  I throw his books on the bed, and pick him up taking him to the bathroom to get in the light and look at his mouth.

Blood.

His mouth was covered in blood, I couldn't even see his teeth.  Now I am getting worried, did he lose a tooth?  Chip one, is this emergency room time...I just need him to spit out the blood so I can see his teeth and make sure they are all where they are supposed to be.  I tell him to spit in the sink and Drew transforms into a boxer who just finished a nasty round, it is bright crimson and thick...uh oh I think to myself.  But even with the spitting I can't see his teeth.  I grab his water cup and ask him to take a sip.

Well he won't, he flatly refuses to take a sip of water from his cup; the reason is understandable too.  "No Daddy! I don't want red to get in it" he sobs.  This is when it dawns on me, this is the first time really that he has seen his own blood, and for that matter any blood.  I try two, three, four times to get him to drink water, and he only gets more panicked.  I realize I just need to calm him down first and then get him to drink.

I hug him, rub his back, give him kisses, and he is still crying.  Time to call in the big guns of comfort, the mama.  Cristina comes in and holds him and he calms down, I ask again if he will take a drink and he retorts, "No I don't want red to get in it."  I am stumped, I do need to see his teeth, but without him washing his mouth out with water I have bupkis.  And then it hits me, just work with his motivation.  So I run to the kitchen, grab a sippy cup and fill it with water.  I run back and explain to drew, here drink the water from this, the red won't get in, but the water gets out...he takes the sippy cup and starts drinking.  Victory, and his teeth are okay too.

Drew - You can see a slight bruise on his chin

My son is particular, but in all honesty aren't we all.  The difficulty at times is he isn't always able to articulate why he wants to do certain things, and being that I can't always figure it out, it can be frustrating.  Take for example when it is 40 degrees outside and he won't wear pants, and throws a fit if I try to force pants on him.  When I convince him to wear pants, he sometimes walks holding his pant legs up as if to turn his pants into shorts.  I know he isn't hot, because he will run to the car and beg to get inside cause it's "chilly."  It took almost a six months to have him tell us he can't see his shoes (they light up when he walks)

My dad once told me a story about my older brother Matt, when he was 2 or 3.  As my dad was dressing him, Matt kept crying and trying to take off his shoes.  It wasn't until he had tried for a while keeping his shoes on and putting them back on, when he finally decided to look inside the shoe and he saw the stuffing in the toes of the shoes.  Matt wasn't acting different or crazy or being difficult, it hurt.  Fast forward 34 or so years later and Sean is walking with a limp, this is not normal for him and he keeps trying to take off his shoes (this is normal), his way to say "I'm pissed Mom and Dad."  I keep stopping him as normal, and then decide maybe his foot hurts and take his shoes and socks off and check his feet, nope nothing out of the normal, finally I put his shoes back on.  Again he walks off with a limp.  I pick him up, take off the shoes and socks, nothing abnormal.  I am about to put the shoe back on, when Matt as a toddler pops into my head, I look inside the shoe that was on the foot he was limping with and sure enough stuffed, this time with dirty socks.  

Sometimes just telling my kids to do something, or making them, doesn't work.   If you figure out what is motivating them...maybe you won't need to even ask.

Life over a sippy cup of water.

A Margarita

I had a great friend fly in from out of town ask when I was free this week.  We went over our schedules, and tonight was the only "sure thing" we could bet on to see each other.  Now as life goes, dropping dinner plans with your wife and running out with an old friend is not hard to do, but not easy either.  Cristina and I tried to get a last minute sitter so she could come to an old favorite mexican place, but alas it was not meant to be.  So I went solo and met up with an old friend and an old high school acquaintance.

To sit, and have a nice margarita and just chat about where life is was nice.  At some point the conversation turned to friendship, and it was very relevant.  At a certain point we all agreed "hard" friendships, don't work anymore.  We all have friends who seem to make things more difficult than it needs to be, either we don't make time, don't call soon enough, or don't interact in the way that friend wants.  I do think there is a distinct difference in the sexes when it comes to this.

As a guy who has by and large mostly guy friends, we just don't seem to do this as a general rule.  My friends, regardless of location just seem to be very agreeable on meeting, but even this general rule has exceptions of a person or two who seems to require more time and attention on demand then anyone else, and like wise doesn't seem to care about where your life may be.

I commented on how kids changes this, and my good friend brought up a very relevant I think mature statement.  To paraphrase, in the end if you really need to talk to someone or meet up with someone, or just plain want to see someone you make it work, if your friend has kids and can't get away, you bring over take out and meet at there house.  Or meet them where there life is, and when the time comes hopefully they can do the same.

Obviously my friend doesn't mean life stages excuses people from equal participation, but means at some point you just make an effort and make it work if it is possible.  Some reason, some people don't get that.

To this day one of my favorite times with my brother was a business trip he had, I was on paternity leave from my old job and I was taking care of Drew for 6 weeks (full time).  Matt was in town only for a few days, and had about a 6 month old at home (in New York), Drew was all of 3 months or so at this point, but Matt could get together in the morning before he had a business meeting and was flying home.  I trudged in my car during rush hour and we had breakfast in his room and he got to see Drew, if I remember correctly for the first time.  We both made an effort, far from ideal, but it worked, and was great.

Matt with drew our breakfast get-together (May 1, 2007)

As a busy dad now I know I really appreciate the friends that make an effort to see us by hanging at our place, but in doing so I know my wife and I really try and go the extra mile for them when we can.  I guess that is just the saying, "It's easier to attract bees with honey than with vinegar."

By the end of our dinner tonight we had all agreed, we enjoyed the friends that make it easy to be friends, life doesn't need more work than it can already have.

Life over a Classic El Cholo Margarita on the rocks w/salt.