Used Death Bed for Sale, Like new.

Ever notice how a brush with mortality brings everything to the surface?  Some of you are new readers, so I’ll give you some context quickly.  A couple of years ago, while on a flight to DC, a colleague told me about a heart event she’d had. It just so happened that I’d been having some chest pains.  Fast forward through ignoring it and hoping it would go away, I went to the med clinic at my work, whose staff quickly hooked me up to an EKG, called EMS, and checked me into a Hospital cardiac unit. There happened to have been a friend of mine who was a Dr. on staff there and he came down and recommended his personal cardiologist.  The results were: 1. I had high blood pressure;  2. I was overweight; 3. I had higher cholesterol than I should; and the pain I was feeling was the trauma of letting Connor (my one year old at the time) jump on my chest….ooops. 

The good news was we had identified some things to work on.  So I got on a mild version of south beach diet and I started hitting the gym again.  I lost some weight and was feeling better.  My cardiologist said I still needed a little more work.  Then Josie came.  I quit working out and I ate like a Sumo wrestler who was being bullied for being skinny.  Okay, so not that bad, but I didn’t really keep up.  The cardiologist said, hey bro, get your shit together or I’m going to have to increase your meds and you are on track for a lifetime of pill popping instead of a self-fix.

Okay, I got the message.  I went on a different diet, and really started working out more.  My blood panel came back and he called me in.  He said, the weight loss was looking good, my blood pressure was perfect, cholesterol was way down, and I didn’t need to see him for six months…. Oh, and by the way… “You have diabetes.  So you should go see this endocrinology group.”

Uh, WHAT??!!!  Run that middle part by me again?  Are you Effing Kidding me?!!  “Yep, see this number here, that’s your Hemoglobin A1C score.  It’s a 3 month rolling average of blood sugar and is the true indicator of diabetes.  You are an 8.2, over seven is the threshold.” 

Enter five stages of grief.  First, there is NO Effing way I have this.  I go to the internet which is exactly the wrong thing.  I read everything I can find (which is a lot).  I look at symptoms, habits, causes, etc.  Crap.  Now I get mad.  I mean fuming mad.  Nita wants to talk about it, I don’t.  I know I’m going to jump down her throat for any reason, no reason, every reason because I recognize I’m incapable of reason at this time.  She still wants to talk. We get in a fight, big shock.  Like I need this now.  Okay, now I start thinking that I will never see the man Connor will become or walk Josie down the aisle.  So after my little pity party, I start thinking about what needs to be done.  So in addition to controlling my diet and increasing my exercise, I need to step up the discipline.  I need to make sure they have a great foundation for adulthood and I don’t know how much time I have (Connor is 3 and Josie is 1).  This is day three, and my appointment with the Endocrinology team is still nine days away. This is BullSHIT.  I call one of my doctor buddies and he helps me get to acceptance.  You know, the problem isn’t going to change, it’s the solution on which you need to focus.  Obsessing on how and why does not solve the problem. 

Okay, the day of the appointment.  I’m in a good place.  Nita and I are actually closer today.  We’ve been kinder to each other and I’m enjoying little details of my kids that I might have otherwise overlooked.  I have an hour consultation to go over how to test my blood, use the little finger prick machine, and schedule an appointment with the dietician.  By the way, I’d already book marked about 10 recipe sites for type-2 diabetes.  So nearing the end of the consultation, the PA looks at my chart and says…”What is your birthday again?”  I tell her. “This isn’t your blood panel.”  WHAT??!!!  Yes, if you are keeping score at home, I have spent the last two weeks in torment, and an hour practicing sticking my finger and testing blood because of someone else's lab work.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t believe no one caught this at either office.  But this isn’t your lab.  Can you do another panel on Monday?" Uh, no let's just go ahead and assume that I have it since I've already bought this fancy new blood sugar tester.  Of COURSE I can test on monday.  I do. 

I don’t have diabetes, my cholesterol is in check, my proteins are fine, I’m going to make it.  WOW.  What a scare, and what a gift.  A couple of people asked me if I was going to sue or what action I was going to take. 

My response is, “it isn’t like they said I won the lottery and then checked and said, ‘Oh sorry, this is for someone else.’  They actually gave me back something I thought I lost.”  So sure it was a little (lot) traumatic.  But it got my attention.  And I am enjoying my kids more (didn't think that was possible) and my wife more, and my friends more.  I also found out that a LOT of my friends, family, and acquaintances live with type-2 diabetes.  This is another in a very long line of blessings.

The response from those closest was pretty touching.  I even had a buddy who’d stop over for a cocktail occasionally (once a week) not come because he didn’t want to be a bad influence.  So is anyone looking for a diabetes cookbook and some sugar free candy?

Did you see the animals daddy?

This week I went to San Diego for a Navy conference.  As I was leaving Connor asked, “where you going daddy.”  I told him San Diego California.  He then said, “What are you going to do there?”  I told him and then he said, “What’s in California.”  Wow, what an opening.  But I took the high road and told him about Sea World and the Zoo, two things with which he’s familiar.  Josie just giggled and pushed my suitcase around the kitchen like a little baby stroller.

The next morning when I woke up, I called home to check on the family and Connor wanted to talk.  He said, “Daddy, did you see the animals?”  I said, “No, sweatheart, daddy’s not going to the zoo, he has to work.”  He then said, “Well if you go to the zoo, go see the flamingos.  They are pink and they stand on one leg.  And the giraffes have long necks.”  Okay, so I won’t give you every portion of dialogue, but the point was he was making a logical progressive conversation.  It wasn’t just little fragments, it flowed and showed some pretty cool thoughts and connections.  He’s three!  I know I’m one of those overly proud “My boy is a genius sports star” kind of dads, but you have to be a little impressed no?  In any case, it was a really fun experience for me.  He then reminded me to bring him a present, pretty slim chance he’ll forget about that one. 

This weekend Josie got her first haircut.  Nita normally takes the kids for their haircuts, but I have gone with a couple of times and solo once.  Connor has always been pretty good, except the second time.  Let’s just say that he would have preferred being elsewhere and I had to hold him.  Now he sits on the horse or motorcycle and just watches the cartoon.  I’ve seen quite a few kids have absolute melt downs.  I mean screaming, snot running, kicking and shadow boxing kind of meltdowns.  So you can understand when Nita said she was taking both kids by herself I was a little concerned for her safety.  Apparently, Josie is so in love with Connor and wants to mimic his behavior so much that once Connor just relaxed and settled into his horse and trim, she fell right in suit.  Nita said it was as easy as could be.  And it was nice to get some of those little tangles out.  We even put her in little pig tails for about ten seconds, then she pulled them out. 

The nicest thing about being out on business travel with a lot of your colleagues is you always talk about your families.  So I’ve been given plenty of tips and milestones for which to prepare in the coming years.  I was told repeatedly to enjoy them now before the age when you want to sell them on ebay. I was also told I better keep working out, because there is a day coming when Connor (and God forbid maybe even Josie) thinks they can “take” the old man.  “But Connor just asked about the zoo and reminded me about the characteristics of flamingos,” I said.  One replied, “Don’t blink brother, don’t blink.”

Orange you glad I didn’t say Banana?

Three year olds have an exponential learning curve.  They can connect dots and make some logical (and some not so logical) leaps.  They are constantly learning new things and then attempt to categorize them into their silos of knowledge.  It is quite fun to watch.  One year olds who are younger siblings, catch on to things much more quickly and like the kid who doesn’t get the joke on the playground but laughs hysterically anyway, will give you the exact feedback as the older sibling(s).  I’m not sure if it’s pure mimicry or the early socialization of needing to belong to the pack.  In any case, as I watch these things taking place, it’s both entertaining and eye opening.

Marriage is a funny thing.  You start off where you can’t keep your hands off each other and you want to spend every second together.  Every moment apart is a painful yearning to rejoin your soul mate. You get engaged and then get caught up in a whirlwind of wedding planning, catering, cake tasting, colors, flowers, limos, DJs, and check writing.  Then you go on the honeymoon.  You come back and realize that at one time you were capable of making all of your own decisions, and this is no longer that time.  You lose a little independence but gain a partner.  Things that you would do for yourself are now being done for you.  Pretty nice trade off.  Then you get your place together and now that independence is completely gone.  Your individuality is left to girls nights, book clubs, the golf course, and sporting events, where you are routinely ridiculed by your friends (who are brave in your presence but bask in their submission once they return home).  At all other times you are a unit, joined, and you’ve got rings to prove it.  Then you have the brilliant Idea to start a family.  You thought you’d lost control of your independence before?  Ha, at least before you could be spontaneous.  That day as you know is now gone.  Spontaneity means getting a sitter, planning leave time, traffic, arrival time, when to depart, return, and constantly calling or texting to ensure the kids are okay/asleep and whether or not they ate well.  So you have this little pooping, puking, crying extension of yourself and you can’t believe it’s possible to love anything more than this child.

As your child grows you start to get the hang of the routine and he/she sleeps through the night.  You feel emboldened and decide to have another.  You forget that part of getting the hang of the routine was the free time you were given while your spouse was taking care of the child.  You could split time and still go accomplish your goals, watch a show, read a book, play golf, work, etc.  Now you are officially tethered to a child.  A common statement when deciding to take them out of the house is “which one do you want, pick one.”  As these children get older and more mobile they start learning things.  They love to hold things, put them in their mouths, and crawl or walk up and down stairs.  They love textures, poisons, sharp objects, and things that can easily get stuck in their throats.  Then they start talking.  This is fun until you prick your thumb pulling dead rose vines out of your yard and then try to convince your child that what you said was “Skunk” before you wife gets home from shopping. Meanwhile he’s dropping F-bombs like a Sopranos episode.  Of course it didn’t work. 

Now comes the fun part, discipline.  I know it took a long time to get here but Nita and I have had a little different philosophy on how we teach and model behavior for the kids.  And to be honest, you take the aggregate of our relationship and toss around some struggles for independence and identity, mix in a dash of stubborn, and a healthy pinch of ego and you can see that it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns.  That being said we made a HUGE breakthrough on our discipline strategy.  The “what” isn’t nearly as relevant as the fact that we are fundamentally on the same page now with each of us including parts that were important to us.  And I can see the children responding already. 

This new strategy found two very obedient children enjoying a very nice dinner.  We had a very pleasant conversation, talked about our days and did some fun storytelling.  And then I pulled out a classic.  Knock knock! who’s there? Olive.  Olive who?  Olive you.  Connor HOWLED and giggled and begged us to tell it again and again. He then took over and was telling the whole joke and jumping the punch line.  Josie meanwhile was laughing and clapping and trying to say knock knock.  It sounded more like “nah nah” but adorable nonetheless.  Then we went right into “boo.”  Boo who?  Why are you crying?” And of course “Doris!”  Doris who? Doris locked, that’s why I’m knocking.

The transformation from single independent to married with children is a bumpy, taxing and fantastic journey.  For those of your veteran mommies and daddies out there, Orange you glad you did it too?

One last Song

We finally put up all the Christmas decorations this weekend.  Connor and Josie loved the tree, ornaments and singing Christmas songs.  Okay, so it was Connor who sang the songs and Josephine mostly smiled and did the 14 month old bobbing dance.  You know the dance.  And don’t act like you aren’t doing it in your head right now. 

It seems Connor’s teachers were saying (and if it sounds like bragging that’s because it is) that Connor knows the words to all the Christmas Carols and a Beatles song.  In some cases he’d lead the class in a spontaneous round of Frosty, Rudolph, or Santa Claus is coming to town.  But here we are, a couple days passed epiphany, and it’s time to start the new year.  So we put away the tree, decorations, and are phasing out the Christmas videos.  Nita is even putting away the Christmas and Halloween books so we can have some “new” books next season.

Connor is really getting excited about pretend play.  It seems every day we’re given new characters, lines, and scenes to play. He is also eagerly anticipating the first snow.  We may not get one this year.  In fact, we hardly ever get them in back to back years and we did that last year and the year before.  But we’re preparing nonetheless.  We have a scarf, a button, and plenty of hats.  Connor is confident that once we build a snow man and put a hat on his head, it’ll come to life.  Did any of you have a similar scenario?  I’m interested in hearing how it played out if it did. 

Connor is also pretending to be daddy a lot lately.  He sits in the “daddy” chair, holds daddy’s coffee, puts on daddy’s shoes, etc.  I’m pretty tickled to see the three year old reflection of myself.  And of course Josie is knee deep in the act now too.  She wants to mimic everything Connor does and be everywhere he is.  I’m sure you veteran parents remember this but it is uncanny how you kick yourself for not being more stringent in enforcing certain policies to the oldest.  By that I mean, what the older one does, the younger one follows quickly.  And now you have to undo the behavior twice, when you could have been a little stricter on the former initially.  In any case, it’s all part of parenting on the fly isn’t it?  Some of this you can anticipate, and some of it you learn as you go.

Josephine has been walking for all of three weeks and has decided she’s ready to run.  Connor and I play this game of monster chase in the house and now Josie is trying to play with Connor.  The minor problem is she’s still pretty slow and falls a lot and Connor just runs laps around her.  It’s pretty funny to watch him when he approaches a doorway she’s still going through and he’s deciding whether to turn around and run back, or wait for her to go all the way through.  At least he doesn’t push her down/out of the way…yet.

I heard a really funny quote from a Doctor regarding potty training.  Start when they’re 2 and they’ll be trained when they are 3.  Start when they’re 3 and they’ll be trained when they’re 3.  But Connor has been doing great lately and was the talk of the preschool when he ran toward a teacher on Monday and shouted, “I have to POOO, I have to POOO!!”  And he made it all the way to the potty.  J  Nita said he did the same thing at the library the other day during story time.  So I think we’re pretty close.  One almost down and one to go.   I have seen lots of kids in my life holding themselves running toward mommy or daddy and saying they have to go to potty.  It’s always been cute and kind of funny, but I had no idea how I’d actually feel when it was mine.  And you know what, I feel pretty darn good about it.

Finally, the train.  Connor, as we all know, loves trains.  While it’s cold out (okay for those of you north of Oklahoma, I know you are all rolling your eyes right now, but for us, it’s cold, that’s why we live here. So we can golf year round), we have to find interesting places to get some exercise.  Going to the mall is one of those places and riding the train is a special treat for Connor and now Josie too.  Josie has picked up her brother’s love of trains and now can’t wait to play on the train table at home or ride the mall train.  This time, with Connor and Josie being the only passengers, the Conductor, let Connor and Josie inside the engine.  They rang the bell, and blew the horn.  Of course they came home singing “I’ve been workin’ on the railroad.”  Catchy little tune, I swear I’ve heard it somewhere before, oh well.  Maybe it’s just a coincidence.

Will you be traveling alone Mr. Martinez?

Business travel is quite different from family vacation travel.  There are many more moving parts.  And you are no longer in charge of your space, time, or anything really.  You might as well throw chicken bones in the corner to see how your trip will go.  As some of you know, I’m a quite experienced traveler and have my own little routine.  I know where most of the hold ups will be and usually know the shortest or at least the less stressful path.  I had never flown with my own children before.

My wife is late to almost everything, she now blames it on the children, but we were married for five years prior to Connor’s arrival and we never made it on time then either.  So I call BS.  But, with my mom, a three year old, a one year old and a chronically late wife…we had the car packed, everyone loaded and were on the road within 15 minutes of my hoped for departure time.  First milestone, check.

We get to the airport and, oh by the way I forgot to mention the fall.  The night before mom came over to drop off her luggage and fill in the checklist and as she walked out the garage to her car, slipped and fell down.  She cracked a rib (hairline), bruised her arm and leg, and yanked the cord out of our sprinkler system controller for good measure.  She refused medical treatment and the next day was a bit sore, but a trooper none the less.  However, this presented two issues for us.  How do I drop off two kids, five pieces of luggage, a stroller, and help everyone get situated knowing that mom can’t walk from the parking lot to the door and Connor would make a break for it in this new playground of sights and sounds.  Sparing you the logistical chess match, we got everyone inside, mom waddled to the front desk, and I got the car parked and sprinted to the ticket counter.  We’d already checked in on-line but had to show proof that our lap child (Josephine) was not a stolen black market baby.  So we got that squared away.  As we approached security, the line was minimal and we knew mom would be wanded because she has a titanium knee.  Connor was very obedient during the process and after hearing a horror story about screaming-crying children from my best friend, I was extremely pleased with the relative ease of pushing through this checkpoint.  Security milestone, check.

Inside the airport there was a mall Santa taking pictures.  I begged Nita to forgo this freebie and suggested that instead we move to the Admirals club and get some lunch for us and the kids. Now the Admirals club is my home away from home and for years I’ve been bragging and showing pictures of my little ones to the girls who work there.  They finally got to see them live and even if it was just polite, they ooohed and aaaahed over them and I felt as proud as a daddy could.  Josie has been walking for all of 4 days at this point and was determined to do a lap around the club (thank you for being carpeted).  While we were ordering sandwiches, Connor found the candy dish(es).  He began bartering his good behavior and actions on “one more candy daddy.”  And it was all down-hill from here.  But the kids got some food, and so did we (and a cocktail).  Third milestone, check.

People have different styles aboard an airplane.  For example, my mother is chatty Kathy and really does want to tell you her life story and hear yours.  I’m more of a put on the Bose headphones and read a good book kind of flyer…and of course a cocktail, warm nuts and a hot towel don’t hurt.  We flew South West which doesn’t have a first class, but the seats are comfy and the attendants were very nice.  Mom was chatting up the people in her row and trying to bring me into her conversation, I was just trying to hold Connor while he took a light snooze…and keep Josie from escaping from our row.  One hour flight… easy.  Fourth milestone, check.

I originally was going to bring our car seats and check them but was talked out of it by a friend.  “Oh no, he said, just let them install them in the rental for you.”  This sounded like a pretty low price to pay for two child seats I wouldn’t have to worry about and they’d already be installed.  Well…they weren’t.  Dollar rental car you suck balls.  I argued for 30 minutes at the desk about what was the policy and what they would and wouldn’t do.  I even upgraded to the larger car because it had the “hooks.”  In any case, they refused to install the seats and off I went while my mom pushed Josie in a stroller and Nita chased Connor (remember the candy) around the baggage claim.  I just knew all four of them would be abducted at any second.  So I go out in the rain to install these cheap, dirty, barely fit for humans, car seats.  As I’m putting on the neck restraint, my wet hand slips and I hit my eye on the corner of the upright third row seat.  My eye is swelling and bleeding.  I’m not pleased.  But there is no way I’m going back inside the terminal just to bitch.  I’ve got somewhere to be.

My cousin was supposed to meet us at the airport and we were going to follow him to his house…he didn’t…and he wasn’t answering his phone.  Two lucky things happened, now you also have to understand that I’m FURIOUS at this point and both my mom and Nita are reluctant to offer suggestions.  Back to the story.  So for Christmas Nita’s mom wanted a GPS system.  Each of our cars have one so we never had to buy an external device.  So I called my boy Pete and asked what to get.  He gave me some good advice and I bought it.  I charged it, downloaded the new maps, I took it to her, installed it for her, taught her how to use it, and got her all set up.  However, her abject fear of technology prevented her from using it.  She called the next morning and said, “come get it, I can’t even look at it.” So luckily, I brought it with me.  And as I cursed my cousin (just a little, primo), for not picking up the phone so I could at least get an address, Nita said, “I’ve got his address.”  So I plugged it in and off we went to my cousin’s house.  He did finally pick up and honestly, if I’d been dependent on his directions instead of the GPS, I’d have never made it.  Arrival milestone, check.

When we got to his house, we were given the upstairs bedroom.  It had a queen, bathroom, love seat and my cousin bought us a twin air mattress for Connor.  We pushed the love seat against Nita’s side and it became a makeshift crib, and Connor’s mattress against my side.  It all worked wonderfully, until one night when Connor wanted to be in the bed, because Josie was already in the bed.  So I ended up on the air mattress.  But it was all good. 

The flight home was relatively uneventful.  Everything was smooth and the kids were pretty worn out and ready to come home.  We had another big Christmas the next day and Connor and Josie loved their gifts from home and were shocked that they were good enough for Santa to make two trips. 

In a couple of weeks I’m flying out for business.  And yes I will be flying alone…and I would like a Jack and diet, warm nuts, and I’ll take that hot towel please. Happy New year all.