Here's what we do at home, courtesy of crappy cellphone camera:
We eat
The first peas didn't go so well. He puked green, which made me think the evil demons were leaving his body. Then I remembered it had to be the peas. It's cool now.
Actually, the other day I was doing that ol' "One for daddy... one for mommy... one for grandma..." And then I realized it was wrong, that I was sending us both on the irreversible path of using food as emotional blackmail. So instead, I told him if he had one more bite his balls would get bigger. And they did.
We bath
I'm getting the hang of that one. It's actually kind of fun.
We chat
We contemplate
We play
His mom had to overcome her clownophobia to put him there.
I had to overcome my don'ttouchmycomputerphobia to put him there.
Which makes his daddy very proud. I wonder if they make a "My son pees into his mouth" car sticker.
Honey can't believe how big he is now, and "Can you believe he used to be so small when he was in my body?" I said, "How do you think I feel? He was even smaller when he was in my body."
Went on our first date last night. Saw Daniel Johnston. Now, it was incredible and emotional and all that, but let me for a moment concentrate on the girl in the front who kept shouting, "That's okay, D., that's okay," and, "We love you, D. Play 'Devil Town.'" You condescending whore, who the fuck do you think you are? "Play 'Devil Town'"--You are the devil.
A lot of people ask me how to make a soundtrack for a horror movie. Here you go:
Managed to get some time to write a post. Hey, I'm not doing anyone a favor by staring at a sleeping baby all day.
So, what's been going on here? Cutie is 11-days-old, and I think he already looks very different. He opens his eyes a lot, and he smiles just before he poops, and he grabs onto stuff. And he rolls his eyes, which is freaky but normal. The same adjectives could be applied to the way his pipi looks now. No regrets about that one, although I wish it healed already so I'd stop being reminded of the day I mutilated my son.
And although the other day I experienced an incredible moment when he suddenly opened his eyes and stared at me intently like he knew (but will soon forget) his entire future, and although in this short moment I saw love and understanding and forgiveness for all of my future mistakes, that moment was soon over and he went back to doing what he's supposed to do--eat, poop, and sleep.
And while he does that, there's nothing much I can do. So I did this:
A quick one before this room is emptied and I lose my internet connection for who knows how long. Taking out carpets and putting new floors all over because little Jr. shouldn't grow up in a house with stinky, dried up dog pee. So no internet. Did I mention no internet? This is too overwhelming. This might be a good time to start smoking again.
So I'll be back posting when this room has a floor and when the house in general is more child friendly. I guess this is really happening.
But before I leave, here are some of my favorite Stumble Upon video finds:
Ten years ago today we met. I already wrote about that day here, but ended that post with my date taking a cab back home.
I'll never forget, the next day, seeing Honey sitting outside the tube station waiting for me (even though I was early). We sat outside a bar, across the street from the Dublin Castle and then we went to see Swingers. That's our movie. We continued walking in Camden for a while and I asked her if she wanted to come over and watch TV. I swear that's what I meant, too. I just figured she was fun and it would be fun to watch King of the Hill with her.
We then listened to music and didn't talk much. Then "Broken Heart" started playing and Honey started to cry. And I said, "I'm going to regret this," and I kissed her.
I've tried to analyze this moment for the last ten years, and historians will continue my unfinished work, but I'm still not sure why I said that or what made me kiss her, just like she's not sure why she started to cry.
Did my kiss have anything to do with subconscious male chauvinism? Did I think she wanted me to kiss her because of some kind of male fantasy of a weak female saved by her superhero man? Did her tears make me feel stronger? Was my kiss meant to save my princess? That bastard Jung made me think about that. I read Man and his Symbols and realized maybe I didn't kiss her because I was a sensitive man but because I was an arrogant pig like the rest of them.
But I can leave all of that for the historians. Whether she cried because the idea of going back alone to America was breaking her heart or because on King of the Hill Bobby was forced to smoke an entire carton of cigarettes doesn't matter today. And whether I kissed her because I wanted to save her or because I wanted her to save me is also meaningless, after all. Because now, ten years later, the love of my life is smarter, funnier, and more beautiful than ever, and I've had the best ten years of my life, and our best days together are yet to come.
And she's pregnant, too, which is really cool. And more than likely, I'm the father.
It was my American girl's birthday today. I got her some presents, nothing too crazy. It's a joint account, after all. Girlie stuff, like bracelets and earrings and a necklace and a thing people with hair use. She needs to feel like her normal self again, now that people start treating her like a would be mother and all that. She's used to men looking at her boobs but now they all stare at her belly, which must feel strange and foreign. I think.
Then I got her some stuff from her favorite candle-and-soap-and-lip-gloss-and-other-stuff shop. This earned me a few extra points because that place has always been a bit too much for me, too scenty and candle-y and perfect. She asked me later that night how I was doing there so I told her I made a joke.
--"Oh no, what did you say?" --"The saleswoman was trying to help me but I couldn't find anything, so she looked at some cookbooks and asked if my wife liked to cook, and I told her, 'I don't know, she hasn't tried it yet.'" --"Why did you say that? I cook." --"Yes. But I couldn't miss a joke opportunity like that, right?" --"I guess not."
So I met her at work and we walked to Camden Yards in time for the Cal Ripken Jr. bobblehead giveaway. And the Orioles won, which makes the day even better.
So, happy birthday, Honey. I know you don't read this because you think it's weird that I write my thoughts instead of saying them, but just in case you happen to read this, know that when you're asleep I'm downstairs thinking about you, and know that you're more beautiful and sexy than ever and that I appreciate you and respect you if you cook or if you don't cook and if you like my jokes or if you like me in spite of them, and I hope you had a good birthday and my only true wish in this world is to be there with you next year to celebrate another one.
Anyway, before I ruin the mood with the next video, just a happy birthday to my niece and a happy birthday to Shelli. And of course, congratulations to Susie.
Last year I talked Honey into going to a lame bar downtown but when we got there I surprised her with tickets to see Robert Schimmel. Or maybe it was two years ago?
I thought I'll post a video of Joe Jackson. After all, has anyone influenced the way I view the world more than Joe Jackson with "Is She Really Going Out with Him"? Has anyone understood my teenage frustration more than Joe Jackson with "Different for Girls"? Has anyone come up with a better album than Look Sharp?
So I did a video search for Joe Jackson and in the end went for this one. It's just so weird. It has the potential to be a disaster but despite William Shatner's maternity dress, his bad dance moves, and his glances to the lyrics sheet this is a lot of fun.
In fact, on third viewing it's actually pretty great.
Another video I stole from Scott-O-Rama. This video of Young @ Heart made me instantly cry. It will even make Republicans cry. Life is so Goddamn short.
Hanging around YouTube, one finds pretty amazing stuff.
I won't be offended if you don't make it to the end of the video. It's basically the same: giving out gigantic checks, hanging out with soldiers, and posing with the family.
I had to overcome my don'ttouchmycomputerphobia to put him there.
