From Road Warrior to couch potato

I recently got off the phone with my wife as she was driving the kids to a meal. Connor was in the back saying “Come here right now daddy!”  Josephine was cooing and doing her little attempts to get into the conversation.  This is my second consecutive week on the road and you know what?  I’ve lost the taste for it. 

I used to be a road warrior.  My best well, maybe “best” isn’t the right word, year on the road was 128 flights.  I had all kinds of status with hotels, cars, etc.  I traveled so much that once the girls from the Admirals club called me at home to tell me my flight had been cancelled but they’d rebooked me on an earlier flight.  This is significant because it was a vacation and I had allowed my membership to lapse.  I had technically come off the road and Nita didn’t believe the call.  She really thought the entire call was a staged ruse in order to lure her to the airport early instead of late like we are to everything else.  But needless to say, I traveled a lot.  However, three nights last week, four nights this week, one night next week, and I’m not a fan. 

I would describe my style of travel as “efficiently comfortable.”  I’ve learned lots of tricks to make almost every trip more enjoyable if not at least tolerable.  I’ve learned to maximize comfort with the use of airline club memberships to first in line car rentals, to concierge club status at hotels while minimizing lines and waiting. 

I’ve got some pretty amazing friends who have no choice but to travel constantly.  There are a couple of professional golfers, a Rock star (legit, they even made a movie about him called “Rockstar”), and a pretty amazing comedian.  I’ve got a ton of friends who are account executives and business executives that are on the road every week.  They are on the road constantly.  In fact, most of them taught me the tricks of the trade.  I’ve even traveled to see them on the road a few times, of course they’re in another league of travel, but the road is still the road.  I remember one of those friends who went from tour bus to private jet.  I remember telling him how nice of a bus I thought it was and he said, “It doesn’t matter what you do to it or put in it, at the end of the day, it’s still a bus and it ain’t home.”  Please don't misunderstand me.  I'm not making any sort of judgment on the road warrior.  In fact, the folks I know and talk about here are all wonderful parents and include their kids in a ton of things and expose them to things most can only dream of.  So I don't want anyone to think I'm taking a stand on the "right" or "wrong" way to do this.

I’m also in Federal sales and this is my second military show.  Now I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to be deployed for six months, a year, or even two.  Having to watch your kids grow up and reach milestones through video clips, emails, and skype calls.  And these folks are willing to get shot at so we don’t have to?  God bless you men and women of the military and your spouses! 

So on my flight home last Friday as I was sharing pictures of Connor and Josie with the flight attendants (and smell the fresh biscuits they were making.  By the way, American Airlines has the best biscuits for breakfast.  A lot of their food is between edible and tolerable, but I can never resist the biscuit.  Okay, back to the sentence) I was asked a question for which I was completely unprepared.  “Oh, they are so cute.  Are they your kids or your grand kids?”  Record scratch, everyone stop, look at Marco.  I smiled and said, “You know what? That is a legitimate question.  Mathematically, it is reasonable to assume they could be either.  But they are my children.” Was I still bleeding?  I checked my nose.  That one stung a little.

So here I am, a middle aged man with a fresh cocktail on my way home.  I’m thinking how lucky I am, actually not lucky, blessed. By the grace of God I haven’t missed anything.  I still have a week or two like this occasionally, but I will still get to see my sweet little girl and my sweet little boy tomorrow.  I’ll get to give Nita a big hug and a kiss and take comfort in the fact that I only have one, maybe two more trips for the entire year.  And then it’s home after work, just me sitting on the couch, Connor sitting right next to me or between my legs using me as his personal lazy boy, watching a ball game or a Disney movie.  And he’ll never know (or care) that daddy racked up a million miles in the air.

When we eventually travel as a family he’ll wonder why I’m a freak about lines in the airport or why I’m annoyed to stand in line behind everyone else at the hotel desk while I gaze longingly at the “diamond desk” and it’s anything you need check in.  And he’ll never know that the Doubletree will give you unlimited walnut chocolate chip cookies that are so warm the chocolate is still gooey. That there is a special lounge in Chicago O’Hare where you can pour your own drinks and make your own snacks.  And all I can say is, “Thank you God! Thank you for helping me to realize what is more important.”  And tomorrow, while he’s perched between my legs with a sippy cup of milk and a snack, I’ll kiss him on the head.  I’ll smell his hair and then pick the sand out of my mouth (that kid LOVES dirt and sand, like abnormally loves.  He’s like pig pen from Charlie Brown).  Then we’ll go outside and swing.  And smile knowing this is my future, not a pile of regret. 

“As a matter of fact ma’am, they are my children.  This is Connor with the red hair, he’s 2 ¾ and Josie is 9 months.  Yes her name is Josephine but we call her ‘Josie.’  It’s a family name, in fact my wife’s middle name is ‘Giuseppina’ which is Italian for ‘Josephine.’ Why yes my wife is a red head.  I think it is recessive, but all these white hairs on my beard used to be reddish, so I must be a carrier.  Gate C 21?  Oh, that’s right across from the admirals club.  Just two more hours from home, then I’ve got a date with a couple of red heads and a little brown haired girl.  Well, while you’re up, maybe just one more.” J

And Jerry Mathers, as the Beaver

At lunch today with a few colleagues, someone made a pun about Patty Duke.  And of course since we immediately started talking about the TV line ups of the time.  Gilligan’s island, Love Boat, Brady Bunch, and of course Leave it to Beaver.  The humor was simple, the lessons were obvious (except love boat), and the times were pretty good.  Wasn’t it amazing that in 30 minutes you could get yourself into quite a pickle and then solve the problem?  Honesty was always the best policy (except love boat) and dad was always right.  My, how things have changed.

Reality TV is now the chic new style of programming.  Desperate jersey shore jackass surviving housewives who want to catch cheating Idol spouses dancing.  Grab the popcorn honey, I think this guy is going to actually commit suicide on live TV!  Music too has changed quite a bit.  Now I know Elvis had mother’s dragging their daughters to their preachers and priests attempting to force the Devil out of these subversive weak minds.  And every generation since has had as their modus operandi a need to shock their parents, but holy shit, what could possibly be next? In 11 years when Connor is a teenager, what will be the hip thing?

Will music be even more misogynistic and violent?  Or will it return to doo wop music?  Don’t get me wrong, I have turned my hat sideways and thrown down a rap or two and I certainly was a metal head in high school, and college, and okay, I’m still kind of a metal head.  (Rock on Ripper!!!).  But now that I’m older I really thought Metallica’s S&M DVD was pretty amazing.  For those of you who think I went off the deep end, no I didn’t watch Metallica engage in lewd acts that would have given Maplethorpe another NEA grant, they did a concert with the San Francisco Symphony.  Symphony and Metallica, S&M.  Anyway, what is next on TV?  I’m really praying this reality fad is almost over.  I don’t want to watch average people do stupid things to get their 15 minutes.  I personally think youtube is going to ruin the political ambitions of every kid who could actually make a difference later and leave only the 535 people each year who couldn’t get a date to the prom and have never been to a party.

Speaking of youtube, how many of you, and I mean YOU my dear friends could have stood the test of constant surveillance?  Could you imagine cameras (whether on stoplights, buildings, or phones) constantly filming your every move?  And further, could you imagine anyone posting all these things for all to see without you knowing or potentially even ever finding out?  I did some pretty stupid things, and some of you were with me, I mean how can kids survive this insanity?  And email and texting is so ADD and quick.  At least back in the day when we wrote a girl a love note we had the ability to agonize over every word and when they got it, it usually contained several erase marks.  And it certainly did not contain a picture of our junk Congressman Weiner!  Maybe if you REALLY liked her you made her a mix tape or the words rhymed.  And we clearly didn’t ask for a picture of their junk back.  What is up with this stuff today?  Parents of teenagers, how do you deal with this now?

So back to my point.  Are all of you scared to death about what is next?  Are you optimistic?  Do you think in our cyclical nature of fashion that we just might get another American Graffiti (where cruising did not involve going to a park)? That maybe June will virtually come into our study, hand us a scotch and tell us that dinner will be ready in 20 minutes…and that she’s a little worried about the beaver.  Maybe I should put down the Kindle and go talk to him. As I walk up the stairs will I be engulfed in nostalgia as “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” wafts from under his door?  Or will I walk into Connor’s room and hear gunfire and screams as the beat sample for the new hit single, “Kill your Dad now before he grounds you fool!” While Josie is taking pictures of herself to send to her new digital pen pal in prison, or worse congress! 

I think I’ll take that scotch now June, even Eddie Haskell wasn’t so bad.

Underwhelmed.

With 200 consecutive days at 100 degrees and no rain, it’s getting harder to be consistently creative regarding not only keeping Connor entertained, but also physically active.  So far Nita and Kara have taken him to five different jumpy castle places, a children’s gymnastics studio, puppet shows, story times at libraries and bookstores, train rides at the mall, train rides at a park, swimming, and the indoor zoo.  What?! Didn’t know we had an indoor zoo in Austin (Shhhh, *whispering* it’s just PetSmart and Petco, but don’t tell Connor he loves it).  So this morning Connor woke up and played trains with Josie.  Watched a little sesame street and then had some breakfast. After breakfast as soon as Kara showed up he very matter-of-factly said, “Where are we going today?”

Connor has over 100 trains and cars, three different types of tracks, and all kinds of bridges and tunnels.  He’s got a mountain of stuffed animals.  He has about 300 books, blocks (wooden and foam), tools, cars, balls, two sets of golf clubs (one plastic one real), two basketball goals (one nerf one outdoor), and a baseball swing trainer.  He has a hockey stick and puck, sorting and counting games, puzzles, remote control vehicles, and four semi-trucks. He’s got trikes, baseball gloves, swings, farming tools, and of course all my stuff that he can get his hands on when mommy’s not looking.  He has four different sized dump trucks for inside and outside play, a water table, slip and slide, sandbox, fishing game, musical instruments, play dough, markers and crayons, a bunch of Disney movies, Baby Einstein videos, and all kinds of developmental games.  I’m not trying to be show-y here, I’m just saying the little brother has options.

Josie, on the other hand, is living the dream.  Everywhere she turns is something to grab, play with, put in her mouth, and see if Connor will come running to take it away or not.  Her favorite thing of late is to pull herself up on Connor’s train table and start taking apart the tracks. I used to think she was upset when he took things out of her hand, but now I think she just loves his attention.  I can see her little mind working and am wondering not “if” but “when” she’ll learn to fully manipulate all of us.  Hear that Josephine?  I’m watching you kid!

So when Connor was informed that he’d be staying in all day he looked a little, well, underwhelmed.  It was like he was disappointed that we’d run out of ideas, like we had “stopped trying.”  I’m remembering times when my instructions for the day were four words: go outside and play.  That was it.  The rest was solely up to me.  I never grew up with a pool and we certainly didn’t belong to a club.  So the once a month I got to go to the city pool at garrison and was given 25 cents for an ice cream sandwich (oh yeah, right out of the machine in the locker room) seemed like a treat not a right.  It’s making me think about entitlement a little bit and how I’m going to guard against his constant expectation of the world owing him entertainment.  Okay before all of you freak out, I know.  He’s only 2 ½ and I’m not going to send him to a labor camp.  His job right now is to learn and play, I get it.  I’m just thinking out loud I guess.  Back to the public pool, remember there was always some dumb kid who’d get their arm stuck trying to steal an extra ice cream.  That was always pretty entertaining.  Good times.

So we decided to get Connor a play scape.  Swings, rings, slide, rock wall, fort, and a little observation deck with captains wheel and binoculars.  He’s been ready for a while, I was just looking for a deal.  Plus I needed to level a part of the yard, get the pea gravel, the whole thing.  He loves it.  We had it delivered while he, Nita, Nita’s brother, and Josie went to a bouncy castle place (imagine that, another field trip).  Another funny thing is while loading up in the car, Connor noticed two toys that Nita purchased, but hadn’t decided on keeping (yet).  They were Thomas train Legos and of course he went nuts over them and wanted to open and play with them immediately. 

But here’s the thing, I finally figured out how women shop.  I know, I’m 42 and have been married for 7 ½ years and I’m just now getting this.  Apparently women buy way more than they ever intend to keep.  They store it in their office, closet, or car and decide later whether to return them or not.  What is up with that?  No wonder everything is so expensive, they have to mitigate women’s shopping habits with the margins.  Come on ladies, buy it only if you’re going to keep it.  And it should look the same at the store as it does in your house.  Nita sometimes likes to see what things look like at home, I guess home is different than the store lighting. 

Connor loved watching the bobcat level the yard, even took a test drive (which he liked for a while, then it got a little scary). He asked Kara, “why are they taking apart my play scape?”  Once he was told they were going to level the ground, he turned to the Chapa brothers and said, “You need a front loader and a bulldozer.”  My boy.  He also had to test out the pea gravel.  But we’re very pleased with the outcome and now Josie and Connor can swing side by side, I got them some of those bucket swings that you find in parks.  So the next day, “Connor, what do you want to do today.”  “Uuuhhhh, go to Sea World!”  Dude! Consider me underwhelmed.

You’ve come a long way baby!

Full disclosure, I’m an only child.  I’ve seen the pendulum of sibling relationships only as a tourist, never a passenger.  I’ve watched little sisters holding hands in the store and two twin brothers beating the crap out of each other in their front lawn.  So the dynamic of Connor and Josephine has been pretty fascinating to experience. 

I got some advice from a few other parents who said, the second one always makes the first one a bit nuts and there is usually some regression.  This is primarily due to the attention split.  Looking at it through Connor’s eyes: You start off, you get all the attention, everyone loves and holds you…and all of a sudden bam!  Someone brings a “thing” into the house and wammo! Just like that half your attention is gone.  What’s even worse, is they can’t even do anything.  They can’t walk, talk, feed themselves, or spin around in a circle until they get dizzy and fall.  They can’t sing the itsy bitsy spider, recite their ABCs, or hook two trains together.  Really they are quite useless.  Why on earth would you even waste your time feeding her, I mean "it."  And the crying?  Seriously? I’m losing my mommy and daddy time for that?  Okay, so that’s how it’s going to be?!  I’m going to start crying too, and acting up!  Negative attention is still attention after all.

Actually, it hasn’t been bad at all.  Connor has been pretty sweet.  One of the nicest parts of marrying and having children a little later than most is we have the benefit of someone else’s experience.  Since we did get all the advice on the potential above scenario, we spent a lot of time with Connor and did a lot of 1 on 1 time split with each of us.  We also encouraged Connor to participate in Josie’s development with “Connor, can you show Josie how to XXXX, you are the big brother, you need to help her sweet boy.”  And he is at the age where he loves to please. So he usually and excitedly complies and of course we give him treats for obedience and good brothering.   

This last week, Josie caught some stomach bug and was on full reverse throttle on the food.  EVERYthing she ate or drank came out way faster than it went in and usually at a way longer distance.  Nita’s philosophy is “everything is washable.”  But some things you just have to see.  It really is amazing to watch a baby puke for distance, and coverage.  You’d think a little baby couldn’t cover every square inch of a shirt and a onesie…but they really can.  Another thing I remember from the hospital is they say an infant’s stomach is the size of their clenched fist.  BUT, I’d like to state for the record that they can puke at least two adult fists worth of volume.  So I’m not sure how the math works, but I was a witness.  In any case, poor Josephine couldn’t keep anything down for two days.  It actually got to the point that we took her to the emergency room. 

Short version is she was given an anti-nausea medicine and from that point on everything stayed down.  We eased her back into solids with a healthy dose of pedialyte and even mixing formula and pedialyte.  She’s fine and luckily her chunkiness provided a healthy cushion for the drastic weight loss.  See that’s why I carry the extra weight, to stave off any harmful effects of dehydration.  Now who’s the fat idiot? Hmmmm?

The cutest part was Connor’s reaction.  Every time Josie was crying or screaming, Connor would walk up and pet her like she was a cat and say, “It’s okay Josie.”  He even walked down the stairs Friday morning (because when daddy went to get Josephine at 4:30AM he forgot to close the baby gate).  I discovered this when I’d finished showering and dressing and opened the bathroom door and there stood Connor with three pedialyte Popsicles. “Connor, did you walk downstairs by yourself?”  “Yes daddy, I got one for Josie and I got you a blue one.”   And when she finally started eating again, Connor was right there to hold the bottle for her and smile at her.  He even tried being silly to make her laugh. 

And Josephine LOVES her some Connor.  She wants to be everywhere he is, play with every toy he’s playing with, and stand up like a “big boy”does.  She smiles her 2 bottom tooth grin (with two poking through the top) every time she sees him.  She laughs when he laughs and crawls to him at every opportunity.  The funny thing is at Josie’s age, Connor was not even interested in parallel play, much less collaborative play.  And honestly Connor at first wasn’t too cool with his new playmate.  She’d reach for one of his trains and he’d grab it back and yell, “No Josie No!”  But we found gummy bears and jelly beans make wonderful positive reinforcement tools.  Every time he was nice to her or let her play with something, he got some positive feedback or a gummy bear.  Jelly beans were mostly for going potty like a big boy. 1 for number one and 2 for a deuce.  I wonder what Nita would do if I yelled from the bathroom to bring me two jelly beans in the morning.  I mean besides hit me with a flyswatter for waking her up.  I digress. 

So Connor has gotten more and more generous and giving of his time to Josie.  He shows genuine concern, or at least curiosity, when Josie’s upset.  He involves her in a few things and he rarely asks us to put her down so we can hold him instead.  He’s not overly selfish, for a 2 ½ year old I mean.  So hoping I don’t jinx it, I think they are going to have a really sweet relationship. That or they’ll be beating the crap out of each other in the front yard someday soon

I Got Me a Buddy

Last week I was casually scanning craigslist for big boy beds I saw one that struck my fancy.  It was a Thomas Train bed in South Austin.  I pitched it to Nita and she began to explain to me that she didn’t think he was quite ready and the crib was still fine.  However she humored me and said we could go “look” at it. 

We enjoyed the 20 minute drive to Travis Country and sang songs on the way.  When we got there it looked good, in fact, I started taking it apart pretty quickly.  Connor was captivated with the other little boy’s train table and his Thomas cars and trucks and mostly stayed out of the way.  I loaded everything in Nita’s SUV and we headed back home.  When we got home, I figured I could assemble it while the kids had lunch.  Connor wasn’t having it, insisting he help me. I should have seen this coming.

Josie has been getting more mobile as each week goes by.  She’s also been pulling herself up and cruising.  For those who don’t have kids, cruising is holding on to objects and using them to balance while standing or walking upright, she isn’t looking for liaisons or trysts in the park.  Because Josie had been pulling herself up in the crib, Nita asked me to drop the mattress to the lowest level a couple of months ago.  She didn’t want her to lean too far and flip herself out of the crib.  As soon as I entered the room with my tools, here comes Connor with his “little tykes” electric drill.  He was going to help daddy.  And Even though it took me four times longer, it was pretty cute.  Connor had to hold all the screws and turn the screwdriver.  He would get shoulder to shoulder with me while I was lining up the holes and wanted to hold the butterfly nut while I fed the screws into the holes.  When I flipped the bed up for leverage he of course was completely in the way.  And he and I had a lot of fun while mommy and Josie watched and giggled.

So I’m trying to take the pieces upstairs and Connor is determined to help me carry them upstairs.  Then once everything is up and ready to assemble he’s taking the mallet and hammering everything that looks like it needs hammerin’.  The crucial part to any project like this is really the initial connection of the base.  Since you are building a cube/square base and not a triangle, it’s going to be completely unstable until you get the two sides and the back assembled.  It is during this crucial part of the assembly that Connor is bumping me with Thomas’ face and funnel (the last part of the assembly).  He’s straining because it is kind of heavy, but he’s holding it and with a little labored voice saying, “Here daddy, do this one.”  I replied, “Connor please!  Just hold Thomas over there, daddy really needs you out of the way.”  So as he’s moving he kicks out the perfectly balanced (yet unassembled) base and I have to start over.  Since I was trying to beat the clock for his lunch and nap this wasn’t as amusing as it is now.  He continued to slow the process and I essentially started over about five times.  Finally we got it and Connor finished it off by hammering all the edges.

While Nita and the kids had lunch, I went to Lowes and bought a couple of 2x6s and had them cut into 23 inch pieces.  I layered the bottom so the mattress wouldn’t sag (Connor is a jumper).  So we’re all set and ready for nap.  I put him in the bed, put on his covers, kissed his cheek and said take a nap.  This is pretty much all it takes in the crib.  I then went to my office which is right across the hall and started doing some work.  I saw his door open.  I put him back in bed and said, Connor, time for bed.  He got up again, too excited.  Nita was furious at me.  “I told you he wasn’t ready yet!”  So she made me put the mattress back in his crib and put Connor back.  Within minutes he was jumping.  We have a video monitor so we were watching what he was doing.  The other thing is at this point Josie is asleep and this is the “long nap” part of her two nap day.

Really, can you imagine that?  Two naps.  I’d kill a neighbor if I could have two naps a day.  Actually I suppose if I killed a neighbor I’d have quite a bit of free time for napping.  Okay, bad idea, back to the story.

At this point, Connor is calling for us and I’m on monitor patrol watching to make sure he doesn’t pull off his diaper.  And then, bang, cry.  Connor jumped over the side of the crib and was screaming.  I came in the room and forgot all of my EMT training in 2 seconds.  I picked him up before I established whether or not he had a head injury.  He didn’t, but I’m just saying.  In any case, he’d fallen on his back and was mostly scared…and he (insert half cry half whine voice) “wanted to sleep in Thomas bed.”  At this point, Nita is, what comes after furious? [Ed. note: after Nita read this she send me an email.  Apparently the answer is "A RED moment."  Any of you who have red-heads in the family know what I mean.] In any case, I told her I’d manage it and I was mildly threatened/warned not to wake up Josie.  I put Connor back in his bed and told him the deal.  “Do NOT get out of this bed.”  I reset the camera and went to my office with video monitor in hand.  Within seconds I see his little head pop up and watch him head to the door.  He opens and peeks out, “CONNOR,” and I snap my fingers.  He slammed the door and jumped back in bed.  About 30 seconds go by, and he does it again, slamming the door. 

At this point it’s about preservation.  I go in put him back in bed, cover him with the quilt and give him a swat.  I told him, “Connor, do not get out of this bed.”  I walked just outside his door and heard, “Ow.  Ouch daddy, that hurt.  Daaaaaadeeeeeee.  Daddy! Daddy, I need some water.”  I got him some water.  I walked back in and lay down next to his bed.  “Okay, C, you have got to stay in bed buddy.  Or we’re both going to be in trouble.” His head pops up, “Daddy, I love you.”  “I love you too Connor, but if you don’t stay down and take a nap we’re both going to be in trouble.  And mommy is going to give daddy a spanking.”  Connor then spanked himself and said, “Bad daddy!”  I say, “I’m serious Connor.  Mommy is going to be mad.”  And he sat up in the bed and said, “This is mommy’s mad face.  EEERRRRRR (monster voice)” while making a little mean face.  I could not contain my laughter.  My side almost hurt.

What I didn’t know was Nita had the second video monitor and was watching/listening to the whole thing.  She came in and was laughing at both of us.  Connor didn’t nap that day.  The bad news was we had planned a date night for tonight. We had no idea which bed to use now.  Connor had now jumped out of the crib and we had no idea if he’d stay all night in his no rails bed. The good news is our nanny came by to sit while we went out and really tuckered him out at the Chick-fil-a playscape.  We got the text about 8:15. “Both kids asleep. Connor in big boy bed.”

Connor slept through the night, napped on Sunday, slept through the night on Sunday and again on Monday.  Nita is no longer furious at me.  If he makes it all the way to Saturday, looks like we’ll be selling a crib.  And when I take it apart, I know a buddy with a drill who is dying to help me.