PAPATV

Life after a JOB

I recently re-read a great article that says when it comes to responding to difficult moments we either have two choices: love or fear.

Though I know several to choose: BEER.

Being dismissed from a job can be a huge blow to the ego.  I say "can be" because it all depends on where you were mentally.  If you're someone like me, you left the job years ago but just kept showing up to sit in the chair.  Aeron chairs are very comfortable. 

For awhile, I'd been talking about leaving my job but there was always a reason to stay.  Had to get extra vacation time, had to put money away in my 401k, had to wait just three more months.  I focused on all the reasons to stay instead of one very big reason to leave: my soul.

When your heart's not into your work, accruing sick time doesn't make you a hero.  You don't need a floating holiday to float.  Truth is I'd been planning for awhile to get out and do my own thing.  Even made vision boards and Newsweek style accolades.  But there's safety in planning. 

Finally, there was nothing holding me back.   It was the best thing to happen to me.

As I've hinted in the past, I've been working on a new website and, finally, on June 16, exactly two weeks after my letting go, I will take it live.  Consider it my two weeks notice.  This is a huge step for me as it's something I'm extremely passionate about -- and has the potential to be BIGTIME.  My heart bleeds with excitement.  Most importantly, YOU will love it!

For now, I will keep mum on the name, but on June 16th, I will make the BIG ANNOUNCEMENT and link to it.  I've already reached out to a few of you for input and the response has been HUGE!  I have some big cheer leaders, and I couldn't be more appreciative.  Cheer leaders really do more than look pretty. 

Saying that, I want to give a big fat hug to Tristin G.  Maybe even a red velvet cupcake from Yummy's Cupcakes. Tristin's stood behind me from Day 1 saying I love it, Papa, I love it.  Now:  DO IT!  DO IT!!!

Also a big shout out to my brother Brad, my mentor of sorts who also happens to be my younger brother.  Damn smarty pants brother!  For real, though, Brad's the best brother anyone could have.  His wife Kelly is very lucky.  As are the hundreds of homeowners's he's sold the perfect home.

Finally, I must celebrate my wife.  In any big decision, it's important --critical-- that your partner support you.  Ana has always stood behind me 100%.  Today, she brought me a box of cinnamon bears.  Drove all the way to San Diego to get them.  She also went to her best friend's baby shower.  But, still.

As for me?

I choose LOVE every time.

-- PAPA

...

Know anyone without a job?  Send them a kind email or a card and let them know you support them.

This too shall Gas

I believe it was Gandhi who said "If you wish to change the world, first change your daughter."

That may be paraphrasing it a bit but, surely, Gandhi's got to give it up for his Western brother because this PAPA's been hands on ever since the beginning.

That includes diaper changes.

Recently, we've moved into the Size 3 arena, and the results have been nothing short of eye popping. 

Or as Ana likes to say "Today Sienna had a massive poo."

This is when you realize you're no longer dealing with a baby but a little girl.  Even so, nothing could have prepared me for this morning.

Sienna may be 7 months but this is not 7 month poo staring back at me.  This is more like a 3 year olds.  Maybe 3 1/2.  All long and fully formed.  I want to pat her on the back and say good job but this is a two hands operation.  Real men need only apply.

Twenty-two baby wipes later, and she's a new girl except now I've got another problem.  Apparently, I've made someone jealous.  Nikki's staring at me with her Sunday Shit eyes.

I look at Ana for help but she's not moving.  The bed's sucked her in.

"Baby, can you take Nikki out today?"  She makes a puppy dog face.  "Just today."

I hand her Sienna and she says "No, take Sienna, too.  It's good for her."

That part I miss.  Are we teaching Sienna to shit outside now?

Nikki, meanwhile, wastes no time proving she's still champ.  No doubt feeding off seven month's jealousy, she summons something from her pancreatic past and leaves a huge Jackson Pollock all over the sidewalk.

You know when someone steps in dog shit and you think "Sucks to be you."  Imagine now it's your dog's shit and you never had a chance to move.

I look at Nikki.  "Cruel.  That's just cruel."

I have Sienna in one arm, Nikki's leash in my other hand and a Von's plastic bag.  I've never felt a plastic bag tremble, but I swear this one's shaking (or maybe it's me) because surely he's thinking "There's no way.  No way I'm any match for THAT."  Just the volume alone.  For that God created Ikea bags.

Juggling Sienna on my back, I squat down to pick up the soupy poopy and can you believe Nikki has the nerve -- the sheer audacity -- to tug on the leash.  Jealous bitch!

Sienna's kicking me with her feet, laughing.

Cars are rubbernecking.

Later Ana and I head to Runyon Canyon for a hike.  Ana goes running ahead while I follow with Sienna in the baby bjorn.  Sienna squeals at all the dogs running by.  She can't get enough of them after Nikki's little episode.

On the way down, I see another guy with a baby bjorn.  A real guy's guy.  Adidas man.  His daughter's strapped in tight, smiling.  He's with three of his buddies.

This is the change I see.  If we were to go back a generation, I think you'd see much less father involvement.  It's different now.  Guys are getting more involved.  And not just by playing catch or being football coaches but the touchy-feely stuff too.  They're changing diapers, they're singing their daughters to sleep, they're feeding them and taking them on hikes.  This includes my own guy friends.

Just look at all the dads blogging about it.  There's even websites.

For awhile it was thought a baby needed her mom and the Dad's role was secondary.  I think what we're seeing, though, is that the Dad's role is just as -- if not equally -- important, and it's good to see so many guys stepping up to play this active role.

As for the guys who are still on the fence or just stumbled upon this accidentally, let this be a wake up call.  Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty.

You don't know half the shit you're missing.

-- PAPA

...

Do YOU see more Dad's taking an active role?

How to Decipher Wife Talk

Shortly after our daughter was born, Ana laid Sienna in our bed and, against my many protestations and infinite wisdom, whispered "Just for one night, baby.  One night."

One night turned into six months. 

Now, after six months of no sleep, Ana has decided: IT'S TIME.  Sienna needs to sleep in her crib.

Funny what no sleep will do to you.

Anyway, as Sienna has no crib, we spent the weekend looking at cribs which unlike MTV Cribs is not terribly exciting.  You'd be surprised, though.  Some of them carry pretty hefty price tags.  Especially ones that double as sleighs.  But we had a budget, and we were sticking to it.  

Which we did.  I fist bumped Ana for our huge score.  That's when she dropped the bombshell on me.

"Now we have to buy the mattress, bedding, and bumper shields."

You mean that doesn't come with?

We I decided we could shop for that on a different day.

So today, the very next day, she calls me from BabiesRUs with the salesperson held captive beside her which she typically likes to do because it adds a sense of urgency to the call like ihavetomakethedecisonrightnow!!!   Plus, she has the uncanny ability to call when I'm busiest at work.

For example, 10:30-11:15 am is generally never a good time to talk.  Interesting how many calls she sneaks into that window.

She calls to say there are three choices: $169, $189 and $279. 

Funny, I only hear 1 choice. 

She pushes on.  "I'm here with the girl, and she says that the $169 doesn't have ______ and the $189 is good but _____ so we should really think about the $279.  It's good quality and will last a long time...like four to eight years.   Plus...if we have another one --

..............................

"Baby...?  Baby...?

I bend over and pick up the phone that somehow fell out of my hand.  "I'm here."

"I thought I lost you.   So, yeah, the $279 one is more money but like the girl said, 'It's an investment'.  Think, baby, four to eight years....And it's beautiful..."

I like that the modifier comes after the hard sell.

"Beautiful, baby...Besides, I'm just thinking long term, you know.  Smarter to go with an investment for our future, don't you think, baby...?"

"Definitely," says the sucker to the salesperson.

Don't want to miss a good investment.

-- PAPA

Who's the salesperson in your relationship?

Very, very, very careful sex

There's a certain kind of sex they don't tell you about.

You know when you're really, really careful having sex because you don't want a baby? 

...Then you have a baby.

Happens all the time.  Just visit any college high school campus.

No, but this isn't about casual sex-in-the-back-of-a-Hyundai sex.  It's about couples who on at least one level were open to a baby but for any number of reasons (financial, emotional, career, weight gain) decided they weren't ready.

Of course, this all flies out the window once the baby's born.  Instantly, fears are forgotten, love blooms, time passes, stitches heal, lust returns, and you're right back in the sack. 

Suddenly, you pull out.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Um........."

"What?"

"Uh....I'm just being really, really careful."

She sighs.  "I know.  Me, too."

Because as great as Baby #1 is, you definitely are not ready for Baby #2.

Not yet.

But therein lies the dilemma.  Because you definitely are ready for SEX. 

So you continue very, very carefully.  You want to feel good but not too good...for, god forbid, you realize your biggest fear: THE POINT OF NO RETURN.  Guys, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

My brother once described it perfectly.  "It's like you're pouring Coke into a glass and look away for one second, suddenly it's coming so fast it doesn't matter how fast you pull back, the Coke's going over the rim.

Except a roll of Bounty isn't going to save you on this one.

So you play it safe.  Very safe.  In the process, saying stuff you never thought possible.  In fact, you can't believe the shit that's coming outta your mouth.

"No, honey, it's okay...I'll cum next time."
"We still have those condoms somewhere, right?"
"It's okay...I'll just finish myself off."
"You're on your period?  Awesome!"

As for women, our friend (and new mom) Kristina is quick to point out "Sure there are options but they aren't that great."   You can take the pill but then you have to deal with all the hormone changes.  You can go with an IUD but then you got a big plastic thing stuffed up...there.

That's not to say sex can't be good.  It's just...different.

Welcome to Sex: 2.0.

-- PAPA

...

Fill me in guys, what do you do?

It's so hard to say goodbye

Last night I waved a teary-eyed goodbye to my girls. 

Ana's taking Sienna to Brazil to meet her family, soak up some sun and, hopefully, GodSienna-willing catch up on some much needed Zzzzzzzzzzz's.

Then, in two weeks, I'll join them. 

But unlike my last trip to Brazil there will be no trips to Rio or Carnival or late night partying in the streets.

After all, that's how Sienna came along.

This trip is all about family.

But, that's then.  Now?  I'm a single man!

Ever since March arrived, I've begun plotting my freedom.  A trip to Hot Wings Cafe, my favorite wings joint, catching up on some reading, staying up late, stretching out -- and taking up the whole bed!  Maybe even getting a couple pints of Sam Adams at the bar down the street.

Of course, here it is Saturday night and all I can think is "I want my baby's back."

Life changes when you have your own family.  As hard as it can be juggling everything and settling into a routine, I couldn't imagine life without my family.

(That's not to say I'm against small breaks; I actually think they are necessary and quite helpful to the health of one's relationship.)

Saying this, I met a guy at work this week who shared the most harrowing story.  

Originally from Guatemala, "Carlos" taught elementary and college level education (what a combo!) but then came back one day to find his three teacher friends slain, the result of the civil war at the time. 

Ana and I've both been to Guatemala and have talked to people about this and it's so sad to hear their stories. We're talking thirty-six years of civil war with the majority of the killings coming from the Guatemalan army!  Over 200,000 killed!

On that day, Carlos made the hardest decision in his life: He gave up Teaching (which he loved) and his home country to come to the States.  At the time he was married with two kids, age 3 and 5 and a brand new baby.  Five months old. 

Yes, the same age as Sienna.

I'm not certain the legalities, but he was able to claim asylum and start working.  Keep in mind he knew no one and started at the bottom making minimum wage.  But that wasn't the hardest part.  The hardest part is he had to leave his family behind, including his five month year old daughter (which thinking of Sienna I can't even imagine), and he didn't see them again for five years.

Yes, you read that right.  Five YEARS.

In the meantime they talked on the phone, wrote letters, and that's how he heard his kids grow up: Over.  The.  Phone.

Imagine.  Five Years!!

I was practically a bucket of tears listening to his story.  Part of me expected him to slap me and say "Relax, busterboy.  It's my story, not yours."

Carlos's story made me realize (again) just how lucky I am.  Lucky to have Ana and Sienna, two amazingly beautiful souls.  Lucky to have both mine and Ana's loving families, and though we don't live near them (now), nothing's stopping us from seeing them.  Neither is anything forcing us to live apart.

It also reminded me of sacrifice.  And how we would do anything for our family.  Especially our children.

Ana took the camera, so I don't have the picture of Sienna waving goodbye from the Korean airlines counter.

All I have is this blog post.

And a AA departure ticket for Saturday March 21st 12noon.

-- PAPA

...

So I ask you: What's the hardest thing you've ever had to do for your family?

The (Real) Truth about Babies

Babies are a miracle of life, an inspiration of heart and soul, and a love unmatched by any before it.  Countless articles have been written about the love they've inspired, the families they've united, the priceless laughs that just keep coming.

This is not one of the posts.

Of course, I adore my daughter.  I've demonstrated this many times.  I've written several gushing posts, added numerous pictures, even posted amateurish video.   And yet...

I AM a first time dad...

So I'm sure there's loads more to learn.  But after four months of Baby on Board, I've learned there are certain unmistakable truths, maxims as constant as law itself, and this much I can attest:

Forget about sleep: This one's the most obvious, so I've started with it.  A lot of people -- hell, even myself before we gave birth -- asked "How much sleep do you really get?" as though harboring secret hope that their magical eight hours be reduced to a bearable six.  Ha.  Have you seen my eyes?  I didn't get these double bags at Safeway.

Well after a little thought (mostly while waiting for Sienna to fall asleep - and stay asleep), I developed a quick equation.

Sleep = 8/(3F)+.15(A)

Don't let the math scare you.  It's easy.  Take 8 hours (average night of sleep) divide by three (average amount of times she wakes up to feed), factor in feeding time, and add a half hour (approx time each time she takes to fall asleep again).  So 8/3= approx 3 hours + 45 minutes to feed (3x) plus an additional 1 1/2 hours to fall asleep again (3x) = 5.xx hours of sleep.  Interrupted sleep.   If your lucky.

This is just an example.  (A shitty one, I think).  Results may vary.  Of course, never to your favor.

Forget about sex:  The first question people get asked after becoming first time parents is always "So you getting any sleep?"  The question they NEVER get asked is  "So ...you getting any sex?"  Know why?  No, not because they're Quakers.  Because they know: You ain't getting any.  And not for the reason you think.

Assuming a routine pregnancy (and assuming I don't get struck down for putting the words routine and pregnancy together), the va jay jay has got a little healing to do before Mr Soldier can come swinging back around.  But fast forward a couple of months, assume a perfectly healed va jay jay and you'll still not be getting any.  Why? 

The baby.

You can be the most skilled ninja master in the world of putting a baby to sleep, but I guarantee you the moment your wife/hubby/lovers pants come off that baby's waking up.  Screaming!  And I can tell you from personal experience nothing kills a woman's desire quicker than her little baby crying.  Suddenly you find your guy's stuck in a sandbox.  You're lucky to get him out.  

Still a guy is a guy and I'm even more desperate no different which means THAT BABY'S GOING BACK TO BED, STAT!  As soon as I hear Sienna crying -- after I get over the initial "Fuck, are you fucking kidding me?" -- I race to the bedroom and try and put her to sleep as fast as I can.   I rock her, sway her, kiss her, sing to her, anything.  But that's about as successful as waiting for a big pot of water to boil.  It's just not going to happen. 

At least fast enough.  You can be the most cocksure guy with the hardest hard on, Brad Pitt, Mark Cuban, Ron Jeremy, but your guy's going south.  Which brings up another universal law: the harder you try to put your baby to sleep is inversely related to when she actually falls asleep. 

Forget about eating: You ever watch any NFL?  Play close attention to the running back.  Notice how he carries with one hand, performing all other actions with his one free hand.  Yes, this will be you.   Remember as a kid attacking your food with a fork in one hand?  You again.  And that time you broke your arm and had to eat left handed?  You again except substitute a crying, screaming baby.  Hot food never got cold so fast.  

Forget about date night:Remember waiting all summer to see that huge blockbuster and then seeing it opening weekend?  And then the dinner after-wards, the dessert menu, the casual stroll home?  Now add BABY.  Date night?  Gone, gone, gone.  

Oh, and don't even think about trying to sneak her into the theater when she's sleeping.  She'll sleep alright all the way up to the opening credits or the first big twist but don't worry you'll never see what happens next because she'll be crying like all hell let loose.  

Yes, action films do have loud special effects.  But babies screams are louder.

Forget about Joe Six Pack:You know that awesome pre-baby physique you had and rock hard abs?  Well if sympathetic pregnancy doesn't get you, then having a baby will.  The sleepless nights, the incessant crying, the surprise jabs in the eye will have you seeing double.  You'll be putting down the protein shake and grabbing a Grey goose tonic.  And somehow Grey goose and Tri-O-Plex bars just don't go together.

Forget about quick trips to the store: You'll make trip after trip after trip after trip so it will be like one big trip with several little bonus mini trips because you know Target has a lot of things but not everything and diapers are cheaper at Costco and Vons has those little refill snaps that I like and Can we just go to Carters/Children's Palace/Janie and Jack to make sure there's nothing on sale and...

"You got the keys?"
"I thought you got the keys."
"I didn't get the keys."
"We have to go get the keys."

Forget about Finishing any Projects : Like writing this post.  You get what you get and that's it. 

The list goes on and on...

The takeaway message here is babies are cute but they also are a lot of work. 

So for all your friends who tell you how perfect their baby is: how she never cries, sleeps sixteen hours, always takes a pacifier, loves baths, smiles for pictures, etc, etc take it with a grain of salt.

Even better, tell them to put a sock in it.  A dirty, filthy Hanes anklet.

Because, listen: Everyone Poops .

-- PAPA

...

What would you add to my list?

The Grand Tour

Today Sienna turns two months old.

Right now she's thinking ______________.

We've just finished the grand tour of the apartment, one of my favorite things to do with her.

Except when I announce it, I say: "YOU WANT TO GO ON A TOUR OF OUR APARTMENT AND SEE WHERE YOU LIVE?!!!!" 

She always does.

We start in the kitchen.  I open the fridge, and I start pulling out things at random.  "This is Mommy's Orangina, this is Daddy's Corona, this is a random bowl of water(?) and THIS is Nikki's chicken which we have to boil each week, otherwise she'll get something really fun called pancreatitis and shit all over the apartment .  This is Picante Sauce.  It's hot, very hot.  See how red it is?  This is the vegetable drawer.  This is a cucumber.  These are asparagus.  Here's some green beens.  This is --This is...cheese.  Which is not a vegetable.  See.  Mommy gets confused sometimes.  Here, let's put it in the cheese drawer.  Then she'll really be confused."

We stroll into the living room, over to the bookcase.  "See all the books, Sienna?  Wow, Daddy, you read a lot. I know, I know.  Okay, focus again.  This is a painted cow we got in Guatemala.  This is a elephant Mommy got in Vietnam.  Here's some dust.  Oh, look, a picture of your Aunt Melissa.  Isn't she pretty?  Look how tall she is.  And her blond hair.  And her big, big blue eyes.  Just like you.  This is Mr Black.  Mr. Black's a security guard from Oahu.  Oahu is part of the state of Hawaii which encompasses nearly the entire volcanic Hawaiian Island chain, which is made up of hundreds of islands spread over 1500 miles...But we'll talk about that tomorrow." 

Nikki follows us into The Parents Room.

"This is Mommy and Daddy's bed.  Used to be our bed.  Then it was Nikki's.  Then it wasn't.  Then it was again.  Now it's your bed.  Oh, look, your bassinet.  See.  That's where you're supposed to sleep.  No, not now?  Okay.  Oops!  Daddy almost tripped over Mommy's flip flops.  See?  Mommy likes to play games.  This is a black Ikea dresser.  These are Daddy's keys that he always loses.  This is Mommy's drawer.  This is Daddy opening Mommy's drawer.  These are all Mommy's pretty necklaces and, look, here's Daddy's Bank of America Debit card that paid for all these necklaces!   This is a quarter.  Look how shiny it is!  Wow...!  Let's go put this in your piggy bank.  Oh, almost forgot.  Gotta turn off the lights.  Mommy will kill us if we don't turn off the lights.

I flip off the light.

"Okay, sweetheart, tour's over.  Fun, right?  Tomorrow, we'll do it again." 

She studies me with her big blue eyes.

What's she thinking?

I can only guess.

But what I hope she's thinking is "I'm so lucky to have a Daddy and Mommy who love me so much."

-- PAPA

The Amazing Race

They say the journey of a 1,000 miles begins with a single footstep.

Fuck that.  Give me a car.  A FAST car.  An Aston Martin, A Tesla Roadster, or an Audi R8.  I'll get there in no time.

And that, my good readers, is where like many of you, I fail.

Today, our society is obsessed with speed and on demand satisfaction.  We want it, and we want it now.  Fast.  Fast.  Fast.  Speed is the new consumption.  We sprint ahead.  Always craving what's next ignoring the now.

And I'm just as guilty as the rest. 

Especially with my daughter.

I hear myself saying I can't wait until she sleeps more.  I can't wait until she smiles.  I can't wait until she talks.  I can't wait until she doesn't cry anymore.

I can't wait.

I can't wait.

She's seven weeks old.

Funny thing is I was standing at Starbucks with a friend yesterday who has a 1 year old, and we saw a woman holding her baby.  She couldn't have been more than twelve pounds.  She'd probably just recently started holding her head up on her own.  She was cute, adorable.

My friend looked at her and said "Awwwww...I wish my little one was a baby again.  I can't remember her that small anymore."

No, my friend doesn't drive an Aston Martin. 

But, perhaps, she could slow down.  Perhaps we could all slow down.

And enjoy.

Maybe what I really need are a pair of these.

-- PAPA

Black Friday, Yellow Duck

My shiny new toy.

You know when you're a kid and you have cool toys and then your friends visit and they have cooler toys?

And then you WANT those cooler toys.

This is Sienna's my new toy.

Actually, it belongs to LLuna, our friends Yuko and Jordi six-month year old, but I'm stealing it.  What's she going to do?  Fight back?

Sorry, LLuna. 

But, look!  Look how BIG it is.  And it's a bath!  But that's not even the best part.  This Yellow Rubber Ducky has a surprise.  A big, big surprise!

What is it?

Watch it now!  [pop out video.]

-- PAPA

...

Any other hot toys I should buy steal?  Leave your tips with the product links in the comments.

Payday

Today is Payday.

Today should be a great day.  I should log onto my Bank of America account, see my automatic deposit, SMILE, and clap myself on the shoulder for having such an amazing job.

Except I don't have an amazing job. 

And I don't make amazing money.  Instead, I see:

-154.75
-89.12
-1500.00
-65.50 
-34.67
-71.89

A shrinking balance going down, down, down.

While my mind adds it up:  Food.  Diapers.  Formula.  Then runs wild: Child care. Clothes. Soccer. Dance lessons. College.

Fear grips me.  I tense. 

It's the same worry that keeps Ana up at night.  Why she wakes every hour at 2 at 3 at 4am -- just to make sure Sienna's breathing.  

"I can't help it.  I'm a mom now.  I worry."

For her.

And she says, "Babe, I'm scared.  We need to make more money."

For her.

And I say, "Baby, I know, I know.  Trust me.  That's why I'm staying up late, creating an idea, packaging it, and launching it soon.

For her.

We will find a way. 

We will make a way. 

We will make pay.

 

For her.

...

-- PAPA