Continued Adventures of: Mommy is out of town

Sienna and I continued our father/daughter bonding last night. She helps me out by performing gestures that are so simple that I am able to understand them.

For instance, she crawls over to her high chair when she is hungry, grabs the edge of it and starts crying. I am okay that putting her in the high chair stops her crying while trying to pretend that I don't notice that the chair gives her the same exact comfort I provide.

When she is done eating she turns her head and pushes me away with her hands. Sometimes I push the issue - not in a forceful way, thank you. When she tires of me pushing the issue she takes the food or spoon looks me directly in the eye, then casually drops the item on the floor while her eyes never leaving me.

When it is time to dance she wobbles back and forth while flapping her arms like a bird. This also doubles as, "Pick me up!" though she has added "uck!" to her vocabulary. Probably because there is a time for dancing and a time for holding.

At 5 o'clock in the morning light crying means "time to come get me," heavy crying while being put in the boppy and handed a bottle of milk means "I want boob!", and a huge smile after finished her bottle means "Thank you. I love you. Now put me back to bed."

See. Sienna is teaching Daddy already.

Wayne

Story from my Father: A hidden advantage to a child on vacation

Danielle and I are going to be doing our first plane ride with Sienna this coming June. Certainly a seminal moment in any parent/family life. Which I was mentioning to my father on the phone last night.

I also mentioned that Sienna will remember NOTHING of the adventure. My father laughed before delving into a story about how he and my mother took my older brother Brian to Hawaii when he was 18 months old.

Since it was 1971 they actually took a series of small flights across the United States, staying at each place for a few days. They bounced their way all to Hawaii.

My father suggested I take Sienna to a beach-type place before sharing his wonderfully hidden fact about children. One that I sort of new, though not to such an extent.

Every morning my father took Brian to the beach while my mother slept in. Brian happily sat on the beach using his chubby hands to propel pieces of sand at passerbiers. People would laugh at the father/son combination. Stopping to chat about this amusing sight.

"You know who stopped the longest? Girls. They'd flock around and play with him. I didn't mind." He laughed one more time, "God, that was a good trip."

Parents. Always giving us advice on everything.

Wayne

Sienna's Night Adventure

With mama bear Danielle down in Florida for a few days it leaves Daddy and Sienna adventuring together. Most specifically the opportunity for us to get Sienna drinking milk exclusively from the bottle.

This has been a relatively new project that has the following effect: Sienna takes her milk bottle and chucks it across the room. Even at day care she has changed from slurping down 15-19 ounces to a mere 5 ounces.

Sienna got down to drinking milk last night...at five o'clock in the morning.

Tears streaming down her tiny face, she screamed like a banshee for seven minute. Let me back up a bit--back up 45 minutes to be exact. That is when Sienna first woke up. She does that sometimes, she will wake up, cry for a while and then fall back asleep.

Not this morning. Not with Mommy in Florida.

Hey who doesn't love a screaming child at five in the morning? She was expressing her frustration at having a bottle. I don't blame her. You should see me if someone steals bacon from me.

I had to laugh as I sat there naked on the floor of the kitchen (too much information?) while Sienna was in her boppy using her milk bottle as a javelin. Even Scudder joined in the activity, mostly trying to lick the nipple of the bottle whenever it rolled across the floor.

It was a fun family event.

Sienna eventually allowed the bottle into her mouth, taking a good 25 minutes to drink four ounces. It reminded me of her being a newborn when it would take a long time to feed her. No big deal really.

The moral of the story: she got four ounces of milk and the hope of continued drinking.

Wayne

No mama no problem

Danielle is in Florida. I am watching Sienna for the next few days - solo style. Updates to follow. Looking forward to this adventure.

Wayne

A Good Laugh to End the Week

"She dancing on a, like, tabletop when they met. Uh, how does she expect him to, like, respect her when they had sex right away. No wonder he, like, flirts with you."

"You're right. I shouldn't, like, have given him head though."

"Are you going to go the wedding?"

"Yes. Uh, I'm sure she'll look pretty."

The last statement was delivered with the type of indignation reserved for someone replying to the world's dumbest question ever. I almost took a half step back from where I was standing for that final reply.

The two women having the conversation finished stirring their coffees (or tea - I didn't exactly look into the cups) and then wandered off to where ever.

I may just stand around the kitchen - specifically next to where the hot chocolate mix is - and listen to conversations. I bit back the urge to interrupt to ask for some clarifications. I resisted the urge after ever sentence.

I may not be able to look at co-workers the same way after this. Sometimes you learn just a little too much about them. Okay, that isn't true. I REALLY want to have a follow up conversation and ask for some sort of crazy stories from the two women talking since if the casual kitchen conversation is that risque I can't wait to hear what they would say after one or two shots.

Or maybe I don't want to hear the story as I may weep for humanity or some other type of judgemental, I'm-a-Father-Now crap.

Wayne

Today was a good day

I took today off from work.

Sienna's daycare lost two providers recently - not in the death sense as one went to grad school and another was fired - and then a third one had a family emergency. With the usual backup daycare people unavailable there was no room for Sienna at the proverbial inn*.

I took the day off from work to spend it with my daughter. I always said I would do these type of command moments in fatherhood - after all, isn't a personal day exactly for this sort of emergency?

I plan on taking opening day of the Mets off to go to the park with her too. I'd rather spend me days off with la familia. Danielle felt bad that I had to take the day off. Are you kidding me?

Here was my day: I cooked Danielle eggs (and myself eggs and sausage) while she fed Sienna. I made myself a pot of coffee and then...

...It was the first weather in a while that didn't require the heaviest of jackets so we went to the park

...We played in the house

...picked up Dominos

...played nose-hands-mouth

...rolled on the floor with her

Heck, throw in some playing with Scudder, Sienna standing up, it was a lot of fun.

Today was a good day. I look forward to more of them.

Wayne
--
* Daycare gave us plenty of notice

A good laugh to start to the weak

"We were making out down there all over the place like a couple of fourteen year olds."

Was it a Brooklyn street where I heard this tidbit. Or perhaps a subway. Or perhaps a bar.

Nope, the company kitchen on a Monday morning while I was mixing together my free espresso/dark hot chocolate/organic coffee/foam milk (approximate calories 500, cost = free, Starbucks charges 5 bucks).

I'll take my entertainment anywhere. It was two two-somethings talking while sipping coffee and if they weren't standing next to the stirrer I needed then I would have missed the entire conversations.

"It was a good trip then?"

"Yeah."

"I have a girl friend who went to Barbados with another girlfriend. They met two college boys who live down there and had a good time."

"That's gross."

"I know, right, college boys, right."

There really isn't a moral to this recounting other than it made me smile that people still have fun on vacations, still pass judgment on one another, and still talking too loudly by the new age water cooler.

Wayne

The Subculture of a Good Series

Games of Thrones has been a best selling series for quite a few years now. I'm not going to look up the information on wikipedia since I'm in the middle of the fifth book and part of my life includes attempts to minimize being exposed to spoilers.

The series is so complex in its own way that when talking with people who have read more of the series you talk in what seems to be a weird code, What just happened in the chapter you're reading? or Who is the last person to die?

It isn't really a spoiler that people die in these books. That is part of the selling point of the book, to me as a fan, at least. Anyone can be offed at any time.

I read the books on the train - and hold it on the elevator at work - and it leaves me open to conversations.

How many times have you read the book?
That question is from a co-worker who was actually repeating the question that was asked to him by a stranger. It is Tolkien all over again (or Harry Potter) as it isn't that you finished a 500+ page book, it is how many times you've read the 500+ page - or in the case of GoT 800+ pages.

I'm impressed you're carrying that. It was too heavy for me so I bought the kindle.
The current book I'm lugging around, Book of Dragons, does weigh a good 8 pounds. I was an English major so I don't find the book that cumbersome, however the masses may disagree. I was surprised when the woman on the elevator made mention of the weight, though when she got off the elevator my friend then turned to me and asked, "Can I borrow that book? That girl was hot."

Yes, hot woman are impressed by nerd strength in this case.

Can I borrow the book?
Three different people have found out I'm reading the book and are interested in borrowing the first book. I've mentioned that the book is 800+ pages of font barely larger than Atlas Shrugged. Yet people are willing to read it because they're heard about it.

It is on TV
This one really messes people up since the first book of Game of Thrones was on HBO. The world had a collective heart attack when a main character was killed off. There was an out cry actually. Somehow the ending of a New York Times best selling book snuck by the popular collective. Actually I picture people who have read a book egging on the viewers to really enjoy the character just for the reaction.

You don't need to watch the show - and people understand
I will not watch the HBO series since I have images of the characters and don't want to ruin it by actors. It happened with Harry Potter so I'm making sure it will not happen with this. What is cool is that people completely understand.

That is rare.

There you have it though. A subculture where strangers talk to you about the book, cute girls are impressed with your muscles, and it bridges the divide between watching and no watching on TV.

Wayne

Reminder, someone always has it worse

There are times one needs to be reminded of how good he or she has it. Okay, that is a little too schmaltzy a sentiment, let me put it another way: Reminder, someone always has it worse.

February 16, 2012
I took the day off from work to spend it taking care of the neo-sick Sienna. I say neo-sick since she has had a lingering cough for about 8 days now, yet no temperature, yet no appetite, has not been herself and fell asleep in Danielle's arms a couple of nights ago.

Coincidentally she had her one year Doctor appointment on February 15, the Doctor took a listen and said to keep Sienna fluided up. Maybe not her exact words, though that is the sentiment.

I spent the day crawling after Sienna with a bottle of milk, dirtying nine baby spoons as I tried her on different food, and generally wore myself out. Not the end of the world, it has been a long couple of weeks and both Danielle and I are tired. Seeing it in writing: wa wa wa, us.

But I'm not there yet on the point of this entry.

February 17, 2012 - Subway ride
I get myself all dolled up for work, take a crowded subway ride in, and would really rather be hanging out on the couch. Still, I'm employed, the company I work for were totally cool with my last second taking a day of yesterday and I never have any doubt the check will cash.

But I'm still not there yet on the point of this entry.

February 17, 2012 - Elevator ride
I stuff myself into a crowded elevator, the second to last person on, as it will be a four stop trip to where I'm going. The last person on it my friend Porthia (not her real name). She asks me if I'm look forward to the long weekend. I smile, knowing she has children, I'm likely to get an ounce of parent sympathy from her.

But I'm still not there yet on the point of this entry. Though I probably sound like an attention hog or something I shall point out (a) it involves my child and (b) you have all sounded worse at some point.

The elevator continued to the sixth floor aka stop one. At that point the head of the departments, Jefferson gets on. Jefferson is a stoic man, perfect in a bar for hanging out, yet perfunctory at work. Jefferson also has kids, Porthia and I are continuing our conversation. I loop Jefferson in.

"You've got kids, you know how this is."

"Yes," Jefferson said, "my son threw up all day yesterday. He has a stomach flu. He sips water, throws up; sips water, throws up."

That is terrible. I have actually had that same exact sickness. You get to the point where you don't want to drink anything.

"How old is he? Does he know what's going on?"

"He is five and half. All he knows is that he is thirsty, wants water, and keeps throwing it up. If he isn't able to keep anything down by noon my wife is going to take him to the ER."

But I'm still not there yet on the point of this entry. Believe it not.

We keep talking as the elevator gets to 15, though Sienna's sickness doesn't seem SO bad at this point.

February 17, 2012 - Elevator ride at 15
The elevator opens up, Chinzia gets on. Jefferson, Porthios, and myself stop talking about our children's problems. I'm trying to remember is whether Chinzia is the co-worker who had an 8 year old child die from medical complications. I saw out on paternity leave when it happened last year. No, I recall, it was someone different.

I don't think it is a surprise when I say I am now at the point of this entry. Actually, I am pretty sure I have already made it.

Wayne

What Baseball Can Learn from Rec League Softball (Part 1)

There are few things more embarrassing in softball than striking out swinging. It is the epitome of anti-manhood as your certain-to-be-a-home run turns into teammates attempting to avoid your eyes as you return to the bench, save for the one person shaking his head at you laughing, and the other person telling you that it happens to everyone.*

You can't overpower someone in arc softball yet you can certainly destroy confidence. You know what else kills confidence? A weak ground ball back to the pitcher. When I pitch in softball I love a weak grounder back to me.

In major league baseball, current wisdom holds that the greatest prediction of future pitching success is lots of strikeouts. Overpowering someone is the best determinate of MLB success since if the hitter can't make contact then nothing bad will happen. A good year for a pitcher such as Scott Feldman is considered luck and Jaimie Moyer's entire career considered an outlier.

They are not overpowering power pitchers. These type of pitchers had success year after year, though they are far more difficult to predict. They are outliers.

Except they shouldn't be - they are the victim of bad data. In softball an unlimited height arc pitcher has enough skill to throw a ball 20 feet in the air and drop it within a small zone. The pitcher can vary the height (effecting velocity), spin, and location; to educe consistent outs without any strikeouts.

They are not outliers. They are knuckleballers with bad press** - the ability to get people out since no one knows what is coming.

With the changes in catcher targeting technology, pitcher intention (which can be measured based on the consistency of where the catcher sets up v actual movement), and the continued collection of data we will soon find what is obvious to rec league softball players everywhere - you CAN get people out with soft pitches. You can separate a good soft throwing pitcher from the bad and you will be able to predict how well people without overpowering stuff can perform.

And then everyone can get made at so many soft grounders back to the pitcher.

Wayne

*I have been in all three of those positions
** Knuckle ballers never seem to get good press. The pitch can't be predicted so it seems to be that people think it is an easy skill.

When your parents start making more sense

I wanted to have a lot of Xs on a calendar. The X-method, at least that is what I am calling it, is where you put in a huge X when you write on a particular day though the actual mechanics of it came via a facebook posting and was a tool Seinfeld once used. I started doing it during January, performing quite admirably until I reached vacation.

I've been doing poorly since.

Somehow today is touching into the second week of February with only a few entries to be found. Which is EXACTLY what my father warned me would happen. "Time," he told me, "disappears and it disappears twice as fast as when you have a kid."

I sort of understood what he said since my 20s disappeared into embers of what I expected v what actually happens, my 30s were the phoenix of adventuring disguised as adult adventures, and then Sienna was born.

This will not turn into a lament of how life has changed with my daughter - that is bleeding obvious - or what I don't do now that I did before - a lot of inconsequential actions it turns out.

It turns out that time does disappear. Instead of being disappointed that I haven't written anything in a week I'm going to celebrate the fact that I wrote something at all. Everyone is busy, the world is busy, I am busy.

Here are a list of actions in the last week that I didn't write about since my last February 2nd entry:

• Worked all a half day, returned supplies for Sienna's birthday party that I had gotten earlier in the week and then got the correct supplies, picked up Sienna from day care, and squeezed in a video game (Friday)


• Decorated apartment and assisted Danielle with baking (Friday/Saturday)


• Co-hosted a birthday party with Danielle that had 5 toddler-types and 10 adults. Everything is a semi-blur. (Saturday)


• Did laundry, cleaned up apartment, Mother-in-law came over as we all enjoyed Sienna's company - Sienna loves cupcakes! - watched Superbowl (Sunday)


• Went to work, picked up Sienna, made her a great dinner of chicken, blue cheese, and then Danielle gave her jello. I talked with my father for almost an hour(!) while Danielle was at a haircut appointment (Monday)


• Worked half a day, dealt with an almost crisis involving Sienna's day care that involved me going to Brooklyn's family day care child services place, picked up Sienna, assisted Danielle in making Sienna's food for the week. (Tuesday)

You know what? Busy week. I'll cut myself some slack as I reviewed a friend's script somewhere in there too. Maybe time isn't folding on itself, maybe I'm just a heck of a lot more busy.

Wayne

Talking with People: The Peace Corps

Thanks to John F Kennedy the United States has its own escapist version of a less dangerous, slightly more respected version of the French Foreign Legion. Not nearly as violent (usually) as the FFL or the U.S. Military the Peace Corps is a place many an unemployed/don't want to go to law school or grad school/career changists fantasize about joining.

I've been lucky enough to know several Peace Corps members including my own father*. You need a certain amount of perseverance to make it through the initial training and complete your assignment as something like only 5%** make it all the way through.

One interesting facet is ALL the Peace Corp members I know have some really bad ass, fun stories. Here are a couple that made me laugh. All the names of been changed to protect the guilty.

The Military is Coming...I think I'll Leave
Over home made brews one day - his, not mine - Alex was telling me about his sudden departure from a war torn part of the country he was staying in.

Apparently there was some local military that was active off and on. In the past year they had been getting closer and closer to where he was stationed. In particular after heavy rains. Or elections.

During the election his area got overrun by armed military people.

"Holy shit!" I said, nearly spilling the beer, "what did you do?!"

"Nothing, we had left a week earlier. We're Peace Corp members not idiots."


The Walk of Shame
Craig found himself lonely for some female companionship. The local girls had been quite forward with him during his stay, plus the other Peace Corp guys were saying what friendly no-strings attached girls these were. Toward the end of his tour Craig said, "Screw it!" or in this "screw her!"

In this case Craig slept with a most buxom local girl who he worked with- a bout of fornication which began at 3 o'clock in the afternoon and passed well into the eve. He invited her to spend the night since the jungle country he was in didn't exactly have midnight taxis.

The next day his buxom conquest was about to go on her way when she gave him a doe-eye look worthy of Bambi. "Aren't you going to get me breakfast?" she asked.

A reasonable question, though certainly not inline with what his Peace Corp brethren had claimed. "Uh, I have to get to the school."

"Well how about some money for some breakfast?" she requested.

Craig caught on quickly, gave her the equivalent of 5 bucks American - a HUGE sum for her - and sent her onto the native version of the Walk of Shame.

A few days later buxom girl and Craig went out again. Another round of raucous lovemaking followed, along with another sleep over. This time they were cuddling in the morning when she started asking him questions, "You're leaving soon," she asked.

"Yes," he said. He figured a Green Card request was on its way.

"You've very rich working for the Peace Corps." She was seductively running his hands over his body when she said it.

"No, I'm not rich."

"But you've saved most of your money."

It turns out it is a well known fact that Peace Corp people in his particular area saved a lot of money since housing was free.

"Uh, I guess so."

"Can I have it?"

You can't blame a lady for trying.

"Um, no."

"How about a quarter of it?"

"I'm not an idiot," Craig told me, "I only got her breakfast again."

See Peace Corp people. Intelligent no matter what the situation.

I'll have more stories when I get a chance. Or remember them. Or have them told to me.

Wayne

* He wanted to learn Spanish so he joined the Peace Corps. I don't know what that says about my family.

** I forget the exact figure. Just know it is REALLY low.