Archive | February, 2012

Day Schfixty!

29 Feb

Can you believe it?And now you will read this post in his voice, too

Dear Adella’s Dad:
Adella has talked about things being hard, and I think I feel half-and-half about it: sometimes I feel like things are hard, and I feel weary, and sometimes I feel like its all about my attitude and perspective, and just keeping a stiff upper lip.

I always tend to think about other cultures and time periods when things get tough. I know it’s nay good to compare myself with others, but I seem drawn to reflect on what life must be like for others (at least in my judgment). Life for so many people is hard… harder, I would think, than my life. And I wonder how these people go on? I suppose people used to die a lot earlier; that would really help. Knowing that I’ll most likely live till I’m 80 isn’t exciting. It’s like saying, “Good news everyone, you get to suffer twice as long.”

So what’s the deal? Is life hard because my expectations of it are that it should be easy? Is taking care of kids hard because I secretly expect them to leave me alone and not be loud and poopy? Is working as a server hard because I secretly resent people putting “demands” on my time and space, or because I can’t focus on working when I have to “socialize” at the same time?  Or am I just very weak, a young man who coasted through high school and college and is now forced to grow up and learn how to endure?

Life being hard is one thing. Not knowing how to process the hardness is another. Not knowing what to do with the pain makes that pain an uneasy sore, like a little pachinko ball that pounces around frenetically trying to escape, but you can’t let it escape because you don’t know how to make an opening for it.  Weightlifting is hard but that’s because it’s supposed to be, and because you know you are making the pain for the gain. Lifelifting is a totally different story because you aren’t always making the pain, and half the time when you are you don’t know it.

I find some dim hope in knowing that suffering has a reward, and that all of the above is all part of the human condition of suffering (both the pain proper and the pain of not knowing what to do about it). I’m the kind of guy who normally looks at this process and deems it totally pointless, worthless, a fool’s game, a wild goose chase. But now it seems clear from Scripture that we are exhorted to shoulder burdens and carry them for the reward at the end, that there is something intrinsically “worth it” about enduring hardship, that the true fool is not the one who suffers but the one who gives it up.

But deep in my psyche I still don’t see the point of all that suffering.
So how bout that money, pops?



p.s.: “Isn’t this that machine that makes noses?” “It does other things! Why shouldn’t it?”


Day 59 (again)

28 Feb


So I finally got my days confused it seems. I am impressed by how long I went without messing up. Unless I miss-titled another post… in which case, screw it.

Right now, I’m listening to Lazosaurus wimper and pout in his crib. He, like his sister, goes on nap strikes from time to time. Neither one ever manages to negotiate better conditions or more cookies, but they strike nonetheless.

I’d like to quit. Everything. I’ve been trying to forgive my mom, and it’s really hard. It’s hard and not fast, which makes it quitable in my mind. AND there’s the fact that once I get past this layer of emotional crap, there’s likely another one just waiting to be seen and felt and dealt with, too. It is a disgusting cycle.

I wish I could just lay in my bed and wimper, too, but I have to make soup and wipe booties and pretend that getting hit in the face by a 10 month old is fun.


Day 59

27 Feb

Hey guy,

So Joe’s posts are so much better than mine. And everyone’s always like “OMG he loves you sososo MUCH!!!!!” It’s true; he does. Sometimes he sucks at doing it, but you’ll get that with people. Actually, every post Joe’s written has made me cry. Whatevs.

Anyway, Dad, I really have been very tired the last… lifetime? I don’t know how long this particular “bout” has been going on, but it doesn’t feel like it’ll be relenting any time.

Did I talk about this already? I’m a really horrid blogger as I don’t feel like checking or linking, so I’m just going to talk about it again, possibly: Been really tired (like there’s a parasite sucking my life force from my skull kind of tired); think at least part of it is emotional (baggage from hating my mom for more than a decade); but I wonder how much is emotional– should I be trying to figure out a physical cause as well? I don’t know, man.

This is a real, nearly tangible reason that I want to meet you and at least get info from you: what if this is something hereditary? What if it’s something I could’ve been forewarned about? And could then tell my kids about it too? But what could that even be?

I don’t know. I’m pretty tired of being tired… sick of being sick… Taking Back Sunday?

See ya.

Guest Post vs Mothra

26 Feb

Dear Adella’s Dad:

Yesterday we put Zoe down at my parents’ house at like 5pm. She hadn’t napped and she was being crazy. She ended up falling asleep, and when I went into the room to take her home, she was perfectly still and snoring lightly. It was incredibly endearing, and had the circumstances permitted I would have just sat on the bed next to her and listened to her sleep. She is a precious little girl.

Adella sleeps the same way. She has a light little snore, and she’s always very tired, so I get to hear it a lot. It’s like that sound is the ghost of all the weight she carries around day to day, and sleep is the only recovery from it, and that little sizzle of a snore is the pain leaking out slowly.

She’s very tired, always very tired, and deals with a lot. There’s a lot she has to face everyday, and it is hard for her. So she sleeps a lot. It is hard to always be dealing with stuff every second. It is painful and very hard.

All this to say that she is doing something wonderfully brave and incredibly difficult, and she’s doing all she can. And if you don’t receive her with the joy and delight a father has in her daughter, and find her precious as she whispers softly in her sleep, but hurt her even a little bit, I will actually kill you.

Very sincerely,

Day 56

25 Feb

Dear Dad,

I don’t think things have simple answers in life.  Unfortunately.

Like lately, we’ve been starting to talk about another baby:  whether or not to have one, when if we do, the fact that we’ll probably have to buy a new vehicle (minivan… barf).  Part of the issue for me is our financial situation; or, perhaps more precisely, our health care issues.  I.e. our complete lack of health insurance.  We simply can’t afford it even if Joe’s employer offers it.

So, guess what, Indiana?  You pay for my babies!  That’s probably an oversimplification, but it’s generally how I feel about it.  I mean, y’all just pay for the prenatal, labor, delivery, and one postpartum vist for me.  Uh, and then the next 19 years of my kids’ health care needs if we never have insurance.  Hmm.

I suppose this makes me feel… weird?  Like should we not have babies because we know how to not have them (uh, I think by now we do?  But I really am not making any promises here.)?  Or is life and procreating a greater calling than all that?

I wish you were my dad in real life and could give me heart-warming advice and suggestions.

You’ll probably have more grandchildren than you’d know what to do with by the time I actually contact you.  Won’t that be great?

:/ AM

Day 55

24 Feb

Dear Dad,

Do you think there’s ever been someone who didn’t know about a child but just knew they were missing one?  What?


Day 54

23 Feb

Dear Dad,

I am incredibly interested in people: what they do, why they do it, who they do it with or to. Patterns emerge; charts can be made; people are more or less predictable. So interesting.

But I think that’s also why I want to know more about people e found their bio dad or mom. Maybe I should actually look that up. But I’m afraid the only stories I’ll find will be the remarkable ones; the ones deemed worthy of written recognition.

I wonder what the “normal” response for either one of us is? I know it doesn’t matter– normal– but I still wonder.