Names For The People We Love - Fathers Day 2011

My "Boo Boo"

As my boys have grown, their desire, like most children, to be "big" has started to show.  A defining moment for Drew as he became potty trained was to wear "big boy" underpants, and he was a "big boy" for using the potty.  Even Sean got in on this as he was younger and not yet potty trained would say "I'm little, I use diapers."

Sean has now been potty trained for nearly 4 months and it is a bad thing to tell him that he is a little guy, or one of his old terms of endearment "baby bear" to which he would reply, "I'm a big boy, not a baby."  Sean and Drew are insistent now that they are "Big" and Eva is a "baby".  Given Eva has yet to really formulate any displeasure in hearing that, I just roll with it.

My kids all have their terms of endearment I have given them.  Drew is Booga Bear, Booga or Roo Roo.   Sean was Baby Bear, Awny, or Sean Sean.  Eva is now Baby Bear, Boo Boo, Mamita, or Evita.  My kids all respond with usual warm responses, and I think deep down they can feel the love I have for them in the names they only hear from my wife and I.  Likewise I adore hearing, Daddy, Dada and Dad, but my kids have yet to adopt any real name or names for my wife and I.

Pop, was something I heard from a good friend as I lived with his family for a few summers.  After hearing it week after week I decided it was a name that I wanted for my dad.  So in my second or third year of college I began calling my dad "Pop."  After he heard this for a few weeks, my dad, while walking with me to get breakfast, explained that "Pops" is a disrespectful way kids used to make fun of adults like calling them an old fogey."  I told my dad it was my attempt at a term of endearment, and disrespect was the farthest thing from my thought process, he said he thought so and understood, but I think in his gut he wasn't sold on the name.  I think I occasionally use it, but I find with my kids around I call him Grandpa, or Grandpa Ted a lot more.

When I get home in the morning from a long night at work, I walk in the door and am serenaded with Daddy, Dada, and Dad from the kids.  My daughter has shown a wonderful attachment to me and she runs with extra gusto as I get home and I adore hearing her "Dada! Dada! Dada!"  As I hear her pitter patter across the house as she makes her way to me.  One morning a few weeks ago she stood off in the living room or dining room and I could hear her making a bee line towards me as I hung my keys up, her brothers were already giving me hugs, but she made her best Walter Payton impression and stiff armed Sean to the ground and she ran to me and asked "Up?!"

This reception warms my heart, and my longing to hear the chorus of welcomes never falters.  Just the other day my son Drew gave me my first term of endearment.  I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed, he had just woken up and I was about to lay down.  I picked up the "Roo Roo" and went to my bed to cuddle with him for a few minutes before I went to sleep.  I talked with him about his night and he asked me about my work.  I rubbed his back and told him I loved him, he lay so still as I had a quiet moment with my boy, I gave him a big hug and told him I loved him and said "You are my big boy", he closed his eyes tight as I hugged him and said "you are my Big Daddy."

View Fathers Day 2010

Pie N Burger

Drew turned four, and to say I am amazed by how fast time has moved is an understatement.  Four years ago my wife and I were in the hospital as she braved 24+ hours of labor to be ultimately met by a C-section, and brought this miracle into the world.  The way I remember things though intrigues me.


The night before Drew was born my wife and I went to a small diner.  It is one of our favorite places and we have fond memories of eating there, we ate dinner and later that night my wife, 41 weeks into being pregnant with our first, went into labor.  


So the day before Drew's birthday my wife and I went out on a date, and we arrived at that very same diner, but this was not a plan.  I didn't even think of that, but sure enough the flood of memories came to me in an instant.  Then I wish it was a plan.  If you ask me to mention specifics of the last 4 years of fatherhood, I'd hit and miss with details, but the one and only thing I do know is I have loved it, and this fascinates me.


In Drew's classroom for his birthday they did a "story of your life" and there was Drew declaring at one years old he remembered us reading to him and getting back scratches from momma.  I cried.  


My memory of that first year is far different, but I do know that his birthday will forever be tied to me, the day I became a dad, and the day I started my career (one year later) both started on that day.  I can remember a lot, and only a little at the same time about that first year, and sadly when you ask new parents or old ones for that matter about parenthood the overriding sentiment seems to be "tired."  


I am tired this is true.  I remember being clueless (I still am) and I remember being afraid and feeling small.  But parenthood for me is me meeting God for the first time.  Until that moment I held my son I felt big, like I was so important, much like any 20 something probably does, and as if someone hit a switch I shrank and God showed me how truly awesome life is. I held my son in my arms and I was looking at the face of God, a perfect pure child, and I felt completely overwhelmed with the incredible gift I had been entrusted with...I still am.


 I have witnessed a young child grow to the point of self expression, from nothing, and yet the minutia of details you would think I could recall with eerie accuracy, I can't.  In fact the minutia is a blur and my memory is more of feeling.  In some ways I regret not journaling and blogging more as my son was little, but part of me is happy I have my feelings mixed with photos.  While I lack a crystal clear picture I think some of my less than perfect memories are blurred even if that meant I loss the perfect clarity of the wonderful moments.


My son just turned four, and I hope he realizes how much of a gift he is to me.

The Library

Creating memories can be as simple as a walk on the pier at sunset, to a trip to Ireland in the Summer.  Memories are like everything else in life; there is no limit on the amount you can spend, but the price tag doesn't make it more or less memorable.

My time with my children though profoundly long one day, can be profoundly short when you look back at it.  My son is about to turn four, and I can remember like yesterday his birth; it is scary to think how soon he will be going to college.  Yet the harder I try to think of things to do with my children in order to create another family moment the harder it is.  It is sort of like falling in love, if you are looking for it, the harder it hides.  

Even with events like Disneyland or a Dodger game, the downside to going there a lot minimizes the impact and it becomes just like everything else...normal.  That is to say it is not like normal is wrong, or even bad, but having keepsake moments with your children and wife shouldn't always feel pedestrian.  I find I can got caught in the trap though of trying to hard, swinging for the fences and looking past ideas I may have, because they are mundane.  

As a young child, maybe eight years old, I had one of my fondest childhood memories of family.  It wasn't Disneyland, or the circus, or even a Laker game, though all those memories are great, it was playing cards.  I "shot the moon" for the first time in a game of Hearts with my family, my dad gave me twenty dollars (a family tradition for the first time you shoot the moon), and the very next hand I said I was doing it again, and he bet me another twenty dollars I couldn't.  Bam! I shot it again.  Now obviously forty dollars to a young child is an extra-ordinary moment in life, but it all started with a simple game of cards, and until I busted my dad, a free game of cards.  We played cards a lot as a family, but this unique moment in my life stands out for good reason, and my parents never set out that Saturday afternoon to do anything particularly profound, just spend some time together.

I awoke from a long day at work the night before, I work nights, around 1:30 in the afternoon, my boys were playing and my daughter was sleeping.  I showered and ate and took my boys to the library.  We had some books that were due soon, and I figured they could use a change anyways.  We spent an hour there just grabbing any book that spoke to their fancy, it was like toy shopping without having to pay.  We got home and read books outside on a blanket just a quiet afternoon as a family.

My wife and I are hitting a new renaissance with all our children, reading is becoming such a wonderful bonding experience.  The last few nights I haven't had to work I have sat in my son's bed and my wife in our younger son's bed, and I read a chapter book out loud.  Sean isn't as interested yet, but he's very young, he sings and cuddles and talks with my wife as I read another chapter.  Drew even fell asleep as I was reading; this was a truly special fatherhood memory for me. 

Three weeks ago when initially went to the library I never thought the simple task of checking out books to read could possible bless me with such a special time with my boys.  Tonight I learned a lot about being a dad; the simple moments can have some of the greatest rewards.

Cardboard

The old parenting joke about kids and Christmas is that when you have a baby, 3-12 months or so, they really only like the wrapping paper and boxes, the toys are just mildly interesting.

I think it is odd how we forget certain things about raising children as our kids get older.  I sometimes go days or even a week without sitting down to read to my kids, but never did that when Drew was younger.  I turn to the TV more and encourage creative play less, though I am confident that this has more to do with my energy level reducing as I have more kids and I need a break.  I even just want to do nothing outside and hope that my kids will entertain themselves outside and not make me "work" with them.  By no means is this common, going back to an old post the 80/20 rule I think mostly applies, but parenting has a funny way of breaking you down one minute, and building you up the next.

My wife in one of her many moments of brilliance took the kids outside on a gorgeous day, the result was an imaginative play jackpot.  A cardboard box, duct tape and a pair of scissors and Drew became a knight, the real funny part is that Sean wasn't really interested in his own sword and shield.

Drew is four and his propensity towards the imaginative is life giving to me.  Both he and his brother regularly make up stories and pretend play, dress up, run after made up bad guys, and are capable of playing in a world that is as fantastic as they wish.  I like to think there was a time I did just that, and if my memory of childhood serves I did have some epic Lego and army men battles.  As a parent I like to join them in that world, and regularly make believe with them I am a giant, or a super hero, or even just the "police man" and they pretend to be the super heroes bringing me the bad guys.

Lately though I've been back to work, and working a lot, and my desire to do anything is short lived as I am off to work (night shift) and when I get home I sleep till mid afternoon.  But I managed hit the jackpot, again, outside with my son the other day.  Drew asked for some armor and a helmet to compliment his sword and shield he made.  He grabbed a box and the tape, and I managed to find some scissors, 20 minutes later we were able to sit down and make his helmet and armor to go with his sword and shield.  He was so proud of his new found armor, and I was as proud as ever since I have a boy who will dive head first into his imagination to entertain himself.

My Knight.

As a parent in a consumerist society it is too easy at times to fool yourself into thinking that children have changed.  When more than likely it is not the kids who changed at all, but rather us.  We can't imagine a time without certain things, but our children are only exposed to things, early on, that we expose them to. Even as they grow we are still the major gate keeper to much of their influences.  While now you can purchase compressed foam Nerf shields and swords, I don't think Drew would have had more fun than we did the other afternoon.  If anything he would have used far less of his brain in that play time; and I wouldn't have that moment with Drew.  It sort of goes back to my thoughts I have had over and over that my kids don't care about many "things" deep down, but more likely they want time and interaction with me and my wife instead. Unfortunately I manage to get sucked into the "thing" parenting instead of the "time" parenting.  I fall into trying to give items to my kids, and they would have been just as happy with a cardboard cutout and a half hour with me.

Dodger Pride (A Short Story)

As I have written about in other posts, going to Dodger games is a family tradition for us.  A few nights ago we took the boys to a "action figure night."  Which means they turn one of the outfielders into an action figure.  My kids adore all things heroic and to get a baseball player and an action figure in one, well that is one step short of "ohmygoshmyheadisgoingtoexplode" great for them.

Sean with his "super heroes"

"I have to go potty." Drew said with a little urgency in his voice.  This used to be the cue for; run like hell he is about to pee.  Drew is now as a very capably 3 1/2 year old, so it generally means, lets get moving, but you don't have to run.  I got up, picked up Drew and put him over a the row behind us, seat etiquette is big for us can't walk down the row mid-inning, and started the walk to the bathroom.

Once we got to the top of the steps Drew turned and reached his arms up (the universal parent please pick me up motion.)  I picked up Drew and he looked at me and with a twinge of excitement said "Let's run Daddy"  So I hunched over a bit and started the old school potty sprint to the bathroom.

We got into the bathroom and what is wonderful about the gorgeous Chavez Ravine is the fact that it has troughs for the men's urinals.  I usually avoid the trough and take Drew to the single urinal, as my son has no issues touching all things in the rest room and I have a bit more control with the single urinal.  But today he couldn't help but have to try the giant stainless steel trough.

Drew did great and once again had a successful potty experience, and since I was there I decided now was as good a time as any to go as well.  Once I finished I picked Drew back up, and with a look of pure sweetness Drew looked me in the eye and said "Daddy you did a great job with the potty, I am so proud of you"

Final Score Dodgers 2 - Mets 0 and one proud 3 year old

My Morning Cup #2

My morning started as almost all my mornings do.  Me groggy, going to the kitchen for breakfast.  Drew heard me as I was getting the coffee ready and asked for breakfast.  I poured him a bowl of Mini-Wheats and he asked me to sit next to him.

Normally I just continue with whatever I am doing in the kitchen and chat with him while he eats, but today I sat down and ate my cereal next to Drew.  Cristina was getting ready to take our youngest to school and my baby and Sean were still asleep.  I had a quiet morning cup of coffee and cereal with Drew.  We talked about his dreams from the night before, "I dreamed about the Six," which is what his clock has to say in order to get out of bed, the fun day he had yesterday in the pool, and his desire to play games.  All in all this was not an extra ordinary conversation, or breakfast for that matter, but I found it to be all the more reason it was special.  I've reflected on not "sluffing off" when my kids reach out to me in my last post, and this last morning I saw this as a chance.  I could have easily said no, finished dishes, or read some internet article, but I sat and had a conversation with my son.

Normally after breakfast it is usually "Sesame Street" time, but we spent the rest of my morning home doing what he loves, books and games.  I let him pick out a board games and I picked one.  We went into the play room and "played" our games.  He was so curious, and into our time together, it reminded me of advice I was given and have since given, "Kids don't want things, they just want you."  After 25 minutes of Robo Rally and Blokus I picked up "Danny and the Dinosaur" and read to him on the couch.

Drew loves picking new games to play

I didn't do anything special this morning, I didn't clean as much as I hoped I could, but the feeling I took with me to work was simply perfect, and a memory I'll hold.  I don't know how long Drew or Sean or even Eva will really want to hang out with me like that, but I do know I'll always want those opportunities when they are gone, and I should take them now.

I felt great this morning, I didn't use my parent crutch of the TV and zombie-ize my kid to get things done, and though my kitchen looks worse for it (as you can see in my title picture), I'm sure my kids will ignore me soon enough after breakfast and I'll have a better opportunity to clean my kitchen.

Life of a cup of coffee, Black (Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Sumatra)

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.