Growing and Eating

Mr. Man seems to waiver between a whining 4yo punk and an adult trapped in a kid's body. My wife noticed that he's become very reflective lately. She's right. Sunday morning we made banana flapjacks for breakfast and I asked him to choose a cleanup task - either help put away the clean dishes or help wash off the dirty ones to load back into the dishwasher. He complained about having to do any cleanup at all, but the lure of the spray nozzle to wash off the food debris ultimately won him over. He perched on a chair and washed the dishes off, only spraying me mildly in the process. When it was over he said, "I shouldn't have said that earlier...[the complaining], that was really fun."

During bathtime on Thursday we bumped into another growing up topic that I feel unprepared to manage with a straight face. I was sitting on the side of the tub not looking directly at him or perhaps taking all the toys out of the tub to prepare for washing when he says, "I can't reach my penis." I ask why he's trying to reach his penis and look down to find him doubled over. He says, "I'm trying to put my mouth on my penis." Again, I ask why? (I don't know why I asked...). He says, "I want to lick my penis." I promise I never laughed but it was hard, especially given that I immediately flashed back to a friend in college who swore he could self fellatiate. is that a word? Anyway, Mr. Man apparently wasn't that flexible and needs to take up yoga to accomplish such a feat. In the end he licked his finger, pulled back his foreskin, rubbed his little head and giggled. The joy of a little boy.

Meanwhile, we had out traditional Halloween feast, prepared our ancestor altar, carved pumpkins and enjoyed the company of friends. I loved having the day off to cook and spend the day with my wife. We had not enough friends for the amount of food I prepared! All of it was yummy. For starters we had hummus and crock cheese with crackers and breadsticks. The crock cheese was amazing! It's a really yummy vegan version of a cheese spread. We also had cranberry nut bread and corn muffins to go with homemade baked beans, polenta fries and an amazing chuckwagon stew with homemade seitan. For desert there were pumpkin pies which were largely untouched because everyone enjoyed the chocolate peanut butter cups!

When I was a kid, holidays were celebrated at my grandmother's house. She would spend the day in the kitchen making chicken pot pie, right down to the homemade noodles. Our holiday feasts were the backdrop for my Pop Pop's favorite dinnertime phrase, "I'm not talking; I'm eating." I remember the warmth of her kitchen and the savory smells of a homemade meal made with care. Even though it's not food I would eat or choose to make now, the memory of her cooking warms me. When I spread a meal for my family that I spent the day preparing in a warm kitchen with a lot of love, I smile and think of her.

Piss Free

Life in the House of Eris is always chaotic and I often get swept up in the tumult of our day, jobs and the endless to-do list and fail to see beyond the work to the good. My wife says I pee on things and take the joy out of living when I’m in this place. She makes me do exercises to name ten blessings to help me gain perspective. It’s been a few weeks since I lost all perspective and lately I’ve been enjoying the many blessings in my life. Perhaps I’ll come back to this post next time I begin peeing (figuratively).

The Boys
We wanted to add to our family. Our message was heard and answered – in the form of a kitten. The entrance of Pumpkin Ghost Smitty into our house restores gender parity in the House of Eris. Mr. Man is quite happy to have a playmate with as much energy as he has. He was also quick to resolve our indecision about the kitten’s name by proclaiming that he has three names and so should the cat. Pumpkin is black (not orange like pumpkins) with long hair and an adorable gaze. The girls of Eris weren’t sure if he would stay for a variety of reasons, allergies and the inability to have undisturbed, crazed sex high among them. Two weeks have passed and Mr. Man is adjusting to not being the center of our universe and we are practicing being caretakers for two species. The struggles continue, adjustments are made and we seem to be growing quite well.

Love
Mr. Man simply rocks my world. Countless times since I’ve last posted he had me either in hysterics or tears by the truth and beauty of his words. My favorites come from this past weekend:

Mr. Man: “Oh, your skin is dry”, pointing to my rough, cracked heels. “You should put some cream on there.”

Me: “Yeah, I know. I do, but it doesn’t help.”

Mr. Man: “Why not?”

Me: “Because I’m old and dried out.”

Mr. Man: (giggling) “You’re not dried out.” Pause. “But it’s true what you say, you are old.”

Later that same weekend while I was doing dishes and Mr. Man was playing, he marched up to ask me if all of the oceans are connected. Ah, the beauty of a child's curiosity.

More Love
My wife is beautiful and has passed an awesome milestone by now having lost 75 pounds. I’m proud of her accomplishment and she continues to inspire me. 13 years of bliss amplify how much I adore her. Mr. Man’s earlier bedtime has given my wife and I sweet time in the evenings to watch movies together and enjoy quietude. While we risk intrusion by the pouncing kitten, our evenings seem ours again.

Moving
We continue our forward movement to secure employment in Portland. The house is appraised and we’re ready to discuss a selling price. The house is more or less orderly (thanks to the cat) and we’ve pared down substantially. Many things are in place and more are in transition for us to relocate with less debt, fewer belongings and a city with more to offer.

Birthdays

We took Mr. Man to a friend's birthday party last night. It seemed odd to us, but of 9 ~5yo guests, only 2 parents opted to stay at the party - the rest dropped their son off and left. Thank goodness we stayed because the moms of the birthday boy had 10 boys at the party. They had organized a hunt for secret treasure around their extensive wooded backyard. It was quite fun, but you can imagine the excitement and activity with ten boys running around!

The moms also have a 6mo infant, who my wife and I got to care for while moms were busy with 10 boys and birthday party duties. I had the opportunity to give her a bottle of mama's freshly pumped milk. I was blown away by the memories of nursing an infant. I immediately tuned into the comforting suck-breathe rhthym as I nestled her in the crook of my arm. Her little hand wrapped around my finger and she stared up into my eyes - all things Mr. Man used to do. As she drank the milk, her eyes got heavy and she gently drifted off to sleep with that contented expression of someone fully satisfied. It was a great moment.

A beautiful moment difficult to reconcile in my mid-fertility crisis. I remember the double-edged sword of nursing - beautiful, peaceful moments intermingled with resentment over having no personal space. Mr. Man nursed until he was almost 4! Up until six months ago I could still express droplets of milk. My body is relieved to be free of nursing, yet last night holding that baby I was ready to do it all again.

Memo

To: My Co-workers and Building Occupants

From: A disgruntled employee

Date: October 5, 2005

Re: Being Human


Our ability to work together, occupy the same office and same building requires that we all behave like reasonable human beings. Please consider these examples of behavior to avoid:

We have only one bathroom for women on our floor that must serve many employees – including the entire state employee cubicleville. You entered the women’s bathroom to hold a cell phone conversation and paced the bathroom while you conversed, making those of us who actually need to use the facilities wait in the hall until you were finished.

When you did enter the bathroom for its practical purpose, you used one of the sanitary seat covers (a good idea), but you left it for the next person to clean up. For reference, the sanitary nature of the cover requires single use.

Perhaps you did not use the cover, which was apparent when those of us after you went to sit down. Your dribble, splash or really big mess is also a private matter, not to be shared with your co-workers.

When you returned from your bathroom break, you resumed your work. As you worked, you sighed about your assignment and provided a blow-by-blow description of how hard your work was and how most things in your life were both very important and very difficult. When you took a breath, you provided obvious mundane updates about the weather or the change in season. When you ran out of things to say, you began singing along (not humming) to country music tunes on the radio.

Then you put your nose to the grindstone and thought about upcoming events. You created a special task to complicate matters and make a variety of individuals do redundant, repetitive and unnecessary work that will have little return for those we serve or our organization.

Thank you for your consideration and effort to make our days together an enjoyable professional experience.

Mid-Fertility Crisis

As if I needed one more thing to freak out about, but here it is. I became fertile at age 12. Presumably I'll hit menopause around 50. So here I am at 32 in the middle of my fertile period hyperventilating over how my chaotic life and our impending cross-country trek to new jobs does or does not allow room for Mr. Man to have a sibling.

Things that Weigh Heavily:

• Time: I still have a year of school left sucking up what little energy I have. At best, we could begin "the great adventure" in 2007.


• Age: Mr. Man would be 6 and my wife and I would be 34/35.


• Chaos: Life with the three of us is loud, crazy and we want to add a screaming wee one to that mix?


• Money: Yikes - tuition and child care for 2?


• Donor: As in doesn't return calls, unless you consider the 4am call from his new wife announcing the existence of their son an attempt to return my calls...


• Mental Health: If you knew me when I was pregnant until he turned 1, you wouldn't ask.

What I know:

• This doesn't really matter now, even if it does haunt me. My wife says Mr. Man came without planning and number two will come to us if he or she is meant to be.


• I love my son and my wife. They are happiness.