TMI Tuesday: I Want To Talk To Daddy NOW!

Part of my daily routine is calling my wife while on my way home after work. I have done this for a while and in the past it wasn’t as regular as it has become over the past year. Of course, now my wife and I have little say as to whether my phone is going to ring while I am getting on the highway.

Every day, so I have been told, when my wife picks our son up from work he babbles in the back seat saying “da da” over and over again as if it has become his infant mantra. This usually continues for much of the afternoon (and sometimes into the night) until he finally gets to the point when he reaches for my wife’s phone, says “da da”, and waves. He may only be ten months old but he has no issues getting his message across… I want to talk to dada now!

This is pretty much the same routine regardless of whether he is having a good day or a bad day and sometimes, for some reason, hearing my voice on the phone is one of the few things that will calm him down. However, consider yourself warned, if he is expecting to talk to daddy and you decide to call, he will not readily accept this and will be rather vocal about his displeasure. I am told that it is an interesting site to behold when the voice on the other end of the line is not that of his daddy… basically, imagine being cursed out in baby babble.

Of course, I am of two minds when I think about this routine that we have and the close relationship that I have been able to build with our son. While he knows my voice and he looks forward to seeing me every night, I am usually only able to spend anywhere between 30 and 60 minutes with him per day. And that is if I don’t have anything going on that night. This is why I am happy to have the relationship that we do but, at the same time, I don’t like the fact that I see him for such a small amount of time.

It’s almost as if I can hear Harry Chapin warming up back stage letting me know that I am walking a fine line. He is ready to go and can start singing at any time if I screw up. That is the last thing that I want to happen and why when I am home I give my son as much attention as I am able, play with him, and tell him I love him whenever I am given the chance. It may not be ideal but, so far, it is seems to maintain the strength of our connection.

Have You Been Enjoying My Box Of Chocolates?

200 days ago this blog didn’t exist. It was a time when I would rarely set aside the time to write. Sometimes I would be doing other worthwhile projects but many times I would simply be passing the time. There were many lost thoughts and forgotten recordings of my life that I would like to have back but know that is never going to be the case.

There have been days/nights when I have had a lot to say and there have been times, like tonight, when I just start writing and hope that I eventually stumble into something worth recording. That is how it goes when you post daily blogs… at least that is what happens to me. This is a medium that is reflective of life and sometimes it is interesting and exciting and sometimes not much is going on. This is accentuated by the fact that I am generally not a very interesting person and live a pretty simple life.

Of course, there have been times of opinion sharing and other posts have been about life and what experiences I have been fortunate enough to have during the whirlwind of days. In one post I could rant about presidential selfies and BS sign language translators while the next post could be about a nice little day trip into the mountains. I prefer keeping a blog using the Forrest Gump box of chocolates school of writing. Basically, if you don’t like what I have to say today just come back tomorrow and there will be something completely Monty Python.

All too often, and I have been guilt of this in the past, writers like to play the equivalent of the creative or literary knock out game. Some people have a perfect punch in their words and some of us get luck every once in a while but, most of the time, we are all taking big swings hoping that one piece connects with the audience. When it happens it’s a great feeling but it is also tiring. And I mean a George Forman kind of tired.

By writing daily, freely and openly, I have been happy to keep jabbing. Some hit hard, some clearly miss the mark but I keep throwing my first out there in a deliberate and constant way. Most of them make contact and keep me in shape. This is a matter of endurance and just like running a race at some point you are going to have to push through a wall, sometimes many walls. It the nature of the creative marathon and one that is both rewarding and addictive. 200 posts later and I am still running.