High Anxiety

Anxiety: A state of apprehension, uncertainty, and fear resulting from the anticipation of a realistic or fantasized threatening event or situation, often impairing physical and psychological functioning.

When I was younger I suffered from "croup". It can be a pretty nasty disease as it is characterized by high fevers, difficulty breathing, and lots of coughing. Apparently, I had a pretty bad case of it when I was two years old, as I almost died. Yours truly was the kind recipient of the "code blue" treatment.

My mother, clearly, does not remember those times with any fondness. Doctors were slower to diagnose and to treat. My fever was "handled" by plunging me into an ice bath (maybe that's why, to this day, I don't like to bathe :> ). At one point I stopped breathing. I also spent a week in an oxygen tent (at the time this was not desired, but I hear for a fee I can do this again in California).

So, I grew up with a mother who had faced the very, very real possibility of losing me. If my mother didn't have anxiety before I was born, she certainly had it now. I think Saddam Hussein had less security than I growing up. We were cautious of every cough. My somewhat weakened bronchial system saw me with strep throat and bronchitis at least once a year and I took penicillian the way others took PEZ.

Some of this advanced attention, of course, has rubbed off on me, just as it will rub off on Lentilina. Sweet, poor lentilina who will have the surgically emedded GPS receiver, the 4pm curfew, and will sleep duck-taped to the crib for the first 6 years of her life.

I simple know of no other way to parent.

So, as I was browsing through the Babies-R-Us website, looking at what items I might want to register for, I was pleased to see a section where parents took pictures of their children using said products so that prospetive buyers could "see them in action". The first picture I found was this one:



Can anyone tell me why this new-parent-to-be blogger was mortified by this photo?? No doubt the parents who took this picture are good parents. No doubt the baby has grown up these past few years healthy and happy. No doubt that this photo has given me shivers from a parenting point of view.

Give up? One should not, I imagine, thoroughly wet their baby and then stick them 6 inches away from a live, unprotected electrical outlet built into a mirror (which is a cool fun thing for kids to want to touch).

Shiver me timbers.

High Anxiety.... you win!

-Ed

Rebound

This is how our house says hello:





Hello to what?

Spring!

-Ed

Spreading Thin

I have never been one for memorizing units of measure. Growing up away from the secure confines of he metric system I have learned to measure things with hands, inches, pounds, grasshopper knees, and the occasional elephant's eye. Understandably, such a confusing concotion of terminology leaves one ever questioning amounts.

So, when Linda informed me that she had arranged for "five yards" of mulch to be delivered I was, understandably, confused. What exactly was a yard? My first guess was that a yard of mulch would be the amount of mulch one would need to bury ones yard with mulch. Indeed, I was correct. And Linda ordered five of them.

So, at 7am, we found our driveway completely covered in mulch. Staring at the mountainous, smoking mass I could only envision a midnight visit from Babe, the Blue Ox:



Over the next several days we worked heroically to spread our five yards of mulch across our single, small yard. See that tree in the corner? Wouldn't it look better surrounded by 40 pounds of mulch? Terrific. What about those grasses over there? A 1-foot high donut of mulch would really separate them from the rest of the yard.

We decided to make a five foot wide garden along one side of our house, just to have a place to put yet more mulch. Beware! It is deep enough that one could lose small children in it. At the end of the day, though, the gardens looked good (photos coming) and the mulch was tamed. No neighborhood children went missing, and that by itself is a small blessing.

I want this story to have a moral (I think if our stories have no moral then they really are not very good stories at all). I suppose my moral for this story is that When the things we plan on turn out to be bigger than ourselves then, quite simply, we must learn to expand our plans. The tree with the mulch doughnut around it looks pretty sharp now. So do the grasses. The thick mulch bed on the side of the house really sets it off.

I'd like to think that every time life dumps five times more fertilizer on me than I think I can use that I will always be lucky enough to find ways to make it work for me. I'm sure half of it's luck which means, of course, that half of it isn't.

-Ed

The Sounds of Silence

Well, it is the first day of my four day OC vacation. Why am I blogging? Well, for starters, there are no less than six unsecured wireless access points in the vicinity and my laptop seems to have just picked up on them. Perhaps the condo community provides free wi-fi. At least, that is how I am going to choose to think about it.

We were (are) slated for heavy thunderstorms, but the skies have been completely clear all day and I am now out on the back deck, feet propped on a railing, looking at a clear blue sky.

So, Linda is upstairs taking a nap. Friends are inside playing a board game. I am taking a moment to listen to something that I have not heard in a very, very long time: the sounds of silence... birds chirping... wind blowing... self breathing... leaves rustling ACK! Air conditioning compressor kicking in... (who puts the air conditioner on the deck, anyway?)

Nevertheless, it is a set of sounds I have not heard in quite some time.

From the deck I can see up a side street:



I've been watching families walk through the street, on their way to the beach. Or kids on bicycles. The occasional brooding teenager. But it all seems to fit quite nicely.

I am happy here. I am at peace. I needed that.

-Ed

Welcome Back

It has been too long, and I have no good excuse for that. Worse, I am about to say goodbye again. Goodbye? To a well deserved vacation. Well deserved? Trust me on this one.

When I get back:

Linda and I have starting registering for baby items. It was fun. It was scary. At some point I think a clerk needed to wretch the scan-gun away from my twitching hand. We were there for almost 5 hours.

Linda and I had a little scare and went to the hospital. All seems OK, so I'll leave things in suspense until I get back.

My latest piece of furniture is complete. Pictures coming.

Linda had 5 yards of mulch delivered to the house. Much gardening was performed. Pictures coming.

I've had several wonderful insights on fatherhood that I would love to share. This will be a most important summer for me and I need to take the time to write them down before they are lost. Hopefully a relaxing, long weekend will refill the blogging coffers.

-Ed

[Fwd: Oh what a night]

Well, it is 2am and Linda and I are just getting back from GBMC
hospital. The short version of the story: Linda will be OK.

The medium version (sorry, no one gets the long version at 2am)...

Linda has a thrombosis in her left leg, at the knee. She had pain all
day, called her doctor at 4pm, who had her elevate the leg and use a
heating pad. By 8pm the pain hadn't subsided, so we called again and
were told to go to GBMC. We go to GBMC at 8:30 (obstetrics, not
emergency room... great tip for pregnant women... less waiting if you
can beleive it).

We were set up in a birthing room, had some apple juice, and watched TV.
Around midnight (after 3 or 4 nurse visits and examinations) we went
upstairs for a doppler scan of her veins (the whole left leg). Around
1:30am we got the results back. It was not a deep vein thrombosis, but
it is a thrombosis. Since it was close to the surface, not too much to
worry about. Keep the leg elevated. Keep a heating pad on it. We are
going to see our Dr. first thing in the morning. I assume Linda will be
put on blood thinners. We'll see.

Ok... maybe that's the long version. I'm going to bed, but not before
saying a little thank you to the powers that be for, so far, letting
Linda be OK.

-Ed

I have a problem

I fully recognize that I have a problem. Several, in fact. However, this blog entry will just focus on one: graduate school grades.

Recently, I took a class in software project management. Now, I've been doing software for over 10 years (ack!) and I've even managed a few efforts. I got an A on every graded thing in the class: homworks, class project, mid-term, and final. Not surprisingly, I got an A in the class.

So, what's the problem? My teacher mailed me my final back and I got a "low A" on the final. He took off about 5 points that I just didn't agree with. And I'm bothered by this. Doing well in a part-time graduate school program is a given and we shouldn't really be sweating A's. It takes a little work to get a B, and you have to really, really try to get a C.

So, you assume the A for some classes and then just go about the process of learning without worrying about the numeric grade. It is silly and pedantic to write him back and ask for clarification on some points on the final. But I haven't yet convinced myself that I won't do this. Maybe I'll just wait until the final grades are officially turned in. 8)

-Ed

Ooops

You know you've made a mistake when, upon arriving at work, you see the following note (from your cat, Chester) in your inbox...

-Ed

ps. Sorry hon. I checked the screened-on porch... I swear!

pps. The bunny movie was the Wallace and Grommit movie. I don't watch bunny movies. I swear.

---

Um, Hello human dad,

This is your cat-son, Chester - or Chest-Duh as you prefer to call me. I just wanted to let you know that you locked me out of the house last night. Sure, I enjoy spending time out doors in the safety of the screened-in porch, but not all night long. I was hungry, thirsty, and I needed to use the restroom. Sure, sure, you will spin this so that it is I who looks like the fool. I have made my peace with that. I just wanted to let you know what happened.

By the way, I really enjoyed watching that Bunny movie last night; of course, I couldn't hear the sound through the closed door, but I enjoyed the movie nonetheless. Perhaps human mom will let me out to chase the bunnies one day.

Sincerely,
Chester

My Baby Girl

Call her what you will... Lentilina, Philina, Kiki.... I'm going to have a baby girl.

I can't necessarily bring myself to write intelligently on the subject just yet as there are so many strong emotions.

I am happy as can be that, so far, my baby is healthy and has the correct number of fingers (couldn't count the toes just yet). I'm furious at a few unintentionally stupid people who express almost regret that "it isn't a boy". I'm in awe of my wife who (against my wishes...) mowed the lawn over the weekend. At 20 weeks pregnant she is more active and proactive than most people I know.

Linda and I have decided that we will teach her, from a young age, to want to elope or otherwise wed in an inexpensive a manner as possible. She will learn a musical instrument. She will learn a martial art. She will learn to use tools whether she wants to or not. One of the happiest days of my life will be when I dance with her at her wedding. God help every other boy who gets within a 30 mile radius of her because -- and unborn as they are they don't realize this yet -- her father is crazy.

I coud be wrong, but I don't think having a baby will be too bad in the sleep department. After a grueling day at work today I came home to 5 yards of mulch sitting in my driveway. Linda and I spend the next 4 hours spreading it all around the house. Dirty and sweaty we collapsed inside, cooked some pad thai noodles, and watched "Wallace and Grommit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit". Something tells me had I simply come home and hung out with my baby all night I'd be able to move my right knee. I'd gladly give up some sleep for the ability to move my right knee.

So, brain-dumpy as it is, I can't wait for Lentilina to come and make our house a home. Even though she is yet to be born she is already a very important person in my life. Ten years from now I will have some small pride when the spacecraft I worked on takes pictures of Pluto. I will still enjoy my mythTV PVR which will still kick the ass of whatever else is out there 8). I will enjoy my furniture building and whatever hobby comes my way. But my children will always be my magnum opus.

That's it! We'll name her opus.

Touch and Go

I've always been something of a packrat. I would like to beleive that this desire to collect things around me was inspired by some MacGyver-esque ability to make something ingenious and useful out of even the most ordinary of objects. Were I to be honest with myself, however, I think I would recognize that this compulsion is really just my way of never wanting to let things go.

One of the most interesting social developments of graduate school, for me, so far, has been the strange friendship dynamics found in the classroom. Over the course of a semester one learns the nuances of the classmates nearby. During the 15 minute breaks, or on the walks back to the car, one finds themselves having fascinating discussions with people. After the final exam these months of acquiatanceship often end with nothing more than a "good luck!"

One fellow student became a father the first month of class. We joked about children, and I joked that I was watching him carefully to see how fatherhood and studenthood intermixed. Another student, unemployed, was finishing her last class and was going to take a cross-country trip to celebrate before starting the dreaded job search. In one class a young, asian man befriended me but spoke with such a thick and quick accent that I could only hear half of what he said to me. His conversations mostly dealt with scrambled attempts to sneak peeks at my homeworks before turning them in.

Without question these are people who are destined to be short-term acquaintences and, trust me, sometimes that is a mercy. But I always get a little meloncholy at the end of each semester when I see these personalities that I have come to observe throughout the year move on in ways that will be invisible to me. And, of course, that is the best thing possible -- to end on a high note. Trust me on that too, as I've in the past refused to end some friendships that were long overdue in the hopes of wringing out one last good memory.

Over many months Linda and I have been slowly decluttering our house. We must be making some progress as we are on a first-name basis with the folks at goodwill. It was a surprising parallel, then, to learn from graduate school how to remove some emotional clutter. When I wanted to pass along my business card to some of the folks, something stopped me from doing so. Call it selfish but I enjoyed the last classes with many of these people more because I had already made up my mind to not see them again.

It was freeing to simply touch and go.

Free At Last

My last final for the semester was this morning at 8am. I was up at 6:30am after having spent hours studying the night before. The final took an hour and a half and I think I did well.

So, after a grueling semester, how does one celebrate this victory? By pressure washing and starting to stain ones deck! So, from 10am until 6pm I was outdoors turning myself beet red and my deck a nice honey gold.

So, after a grueling day on the deckm how does one celebrate victory? by going to a Cinco De Mayo party at a friend's house until 2:30am. I just got home. I've been up for over 20 hours and this old man is going to bed.

-Ed

ps. For those reading thus far, project Lentil has now been renamed "Project Lentilina"

waiting

We are in the doctors office waiting to get the big sonogram! And I am also excited to be adding this blog entry on my new blackberry 7130.

More info on the appointment in the afternoon.