There is a balance that needs to be achieved between work and home life. In the first six or so weeks of my job at the paper, it's been difficult if not impossible to find that balance. Though we print five days per week, I do have to cover events whenever they are being played, which means I don't really have days off at all; only hours.
It was Valerie's weekend off. I was supposed to cover cross country in the morning and then go cover soccer in the evening, all on a day that we don't print a paper.
A funny thing happened on Friday night, however. I was scrambling to put together the Saturday edition when Jim from the Delphos paper emailed me asking if I was doing the CC meet the next day. I confirmed that I was unless he had planned on it. Not only did he volunteer, he also told me he was doing the soccer game I had scheduled.
Instead, since we had a rare day when neither she nor I had to work, we made an impromptu trip to the zoo in Toledo.
The drive was long, and made even longer by the fighting in the back seat, but the ride was great in our new vehicle. I didn't mention that, did I?
We bought a new (to us) suv just a couple days before. Traded in the van to get an eight-passenger Ford Expedition. You know, that way we can bring Phoenix with us when we go somewhere. Or something like that...
I know a lot of my posts here, as sporadic as they are, are devoted to some sort of internal struggles I have going on. Not this one. This one is just a fond memory of a great day with the family. The kind of day that doesn't come around all that often with the schedules that Valerie and I have at work.
As I write this, I get a text from my lovely bride that reads: "My idea of a perfect day consists of BLTs, baseball, a nap and queso. We have all of that if I can find a nap."
Is she great or what?
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Monday, October 14, 2013
Monday, August 26, 2013
An Eventful Trip to the Grocery
My Saturday started like any other. I slept in a bit, then went downstairs when Atticus woke up. There were a couple kids already awake and Leyton told me that his belly hurt. It wasn't a comment said while in pain, nor did he look or act all that uncomfortable. He asked for a Tums and was given one.
A couple hours later, he mentioned it again, though, again, he didn't appear to be acting abnormally. Leyton is kind of a tough kid in that he doesn't often need comforting. That afternoon, I took him and Amity to the grocery store while Valerie and Atticus took a nap. We weren't shopping long when he began to whimper about his belly. I let him ride in the cart, but it wasn't long until he began sobbing in pain. The decision was made right then and there to leave the store and go straight to Ambulatory Care.
The care we got there was... disappointing, but no where near the worst experience of the day. The first thing the urgent care doctor said when she finally came into the room was "why would you bring him here instead of the ER with his history?" (side note: Leyton was born with gastroschisis - intestines outside of his body- which is the history she spoke about) There was no "history" as far as I was concerned. In his nearly five years, there has been zero digestive issues of any kind since he was 24 days old. She agreed to do an xray, but seemed almost determined that it would show nothing.
It showed something. It showed what she thought might be an abnormality. So off to St. Ritas we went.
The Ambulatory Care folks called ahead for us and gave me a form to give to the ER. This form would tell St. Ritas all they would need to know and expedite the process. Or so we were told.
Instead, we arrived at the ER with only two others in the waiting room. Those folks were called back while Kendra A. stumbled and fumbled her way through trying to figure out how to handle a transfer patient. There was a lot of phone calls and "how you do that? where do the 'e' go?" Finally she told us to have a seat. There was no one else in the waiting room. No one. At one point in the 15 or so minutes we waiting, a lady came out and called for another patient, who wasn't there, then retreated. Meanwhile, another hospital employee came up to chat with Kendra A. Leyton, by this point, began having bouts of pain so sever that he would cry loudly for a couple minutes. Almost like contractions, these would attack every 5-7 minutes.
My wife doesn't like when I get impatient in public. I tend to get rude. I got rude with Kendra A. and asked when Leyton might get seen, since, you know, this is an actual emergency and he was sent here by another physician. She disappeared into the beck only to return and say "he's next." Well no shit, he's next; there is no one else in the waiting room.
We get into the triage area and they can't figure out how much Leyton weighs - you know, important stuff since he'd already been weighed and he's here on referral for an actual emergency unlike the bulk of those who hang out at St. Ritas every time they get an STD or a hangnail. One woman had the balls to ask if Leyton had a tummy ache when he was mid-attack. That's when Valerie, who never ever says what's on her mind, asked if maybe they hadn't gotten the memo. The other guy then hurried off to find out what we were talking about. Soon, though not soon enough, we were moved to a room.
From there it was testing and lots of it. Leyton had a CT scan and the CT tech kept trying to reassure him during his screaming fits, which are now almost constant, that things would be okay and that his mommy's right there. Finally, I broke the news to her that Leyton isn't scared, but he is in a great deal of pain, so her soothing words are doing no good to anyone.
Another near hour passed and while nurses went in and out of his room, Leyton never saw a doctor. By this point he had been at St. Rita's for over three hours without a doctor ever glancing at him at all. I was getting as loud as Leyton was - his pain and loud crying constant. Some asshole nurse even came and shut his door at one point. I guess he was bothering her. I opened that back up.
I didn't like being the asshole parent, but it sure felt like we were the only three people in that hospital that gave a shit what was happening with Leyton. Finally, my fit-throwing drew the attention of a CNP and eventually a doctor. Finally, they gave him some morphine. The first dose did nothing. The second dose and also some other stuff helped to ease the pain.
They wanted another CT, this one with contrast, and they said we had a twisting of the bowel. That means surgery. The doctor said he'd talk to the surgeon and see if he was comfortable working on a child of this age. If not, I was told, they'd talk to Columbus. I said then let's just go to Columbus.
So the CT was done, including barium enema and it was decided that instead of ambulance ride, Leyton was taking a helicopter (per request of Children's Hospital). Two hours later, Valerie and I arrived in Columbus. Leyton had been there in a half an hour.
The folks at Children's are a different breed, I think. The care is night and day. From the moment we walked in to find four nurses surrounding Leyton, keeping him company, I knew this was the only place we should be. There was constant updates given and while we did have to endure another xray and another CT (St. Ritas sent the same CT twice instead of sending both of those they did - thanks again for that one) we moved quickly and before long, Leyton was being prepped for surgery. The last CT we had included no fewer than four doctors and two nurses in the room. From there it was a matter of getting the surgeon out of bed at 3 am to make it happen. At just after 4 am, we met with Dr. King (described by the anesthesia guy as a great surgeon but not very friendly). He has matter-of-fact, but otherwise okay. I'd rather have a great surgeon than a helluva nice guy cutting open my son. Later, I saw his name on the wall of fame at Children's - he's a good one.
Finally, Valerie and I got some rest, although short. We crashed out in the waiting room for about an hour. Dr. King came in and told us all was well. They were able to fix the twist with no loss of bowel. It was the best possible news. Additionally, they removed his appendix and moved his belly button over a bit to make it more centered.
Apart from the struggles of the security guy to create our access, all else was good and soon Valerie and I were able to take a nap along side Leyton in his room.
As I write this, Leyton is resting pretty comfortably. He's learned to work the remote, but also has cleared some hurdles and he's been up walking around and generally getting better. He's gonna be here for at least five more days, which sucks since Valerie and I both have to work, but thankfully Rob and Beth are once again there for us, watching the other kids and taking time off work to help. They are awesome people and are constantly giving of themselves.
I sucks being so far from home, but I know given the "care" he got in Lima, that this is the only place we should be with Leyton. These people, this place, they're different - no question about it. Get well soon, Buddy.
A couple hours later, he mentioned it again, though, again, he didn't appear to be acting abnormally. Leyton is kind of a tough kid in that he doesn't often need comforting. That afternoon, I took him and Amity to the grocery store while Valerie and Atticus took a nap. We weren't shopping long when he began to whimper about his belly. I let him ride in the cart, but it wasn't long until he began sobbing in pain. The decision was made right then and there to leave the store and go straight to Ambulatory Care.
The care we got there was... disappointing, but no where near the worst experience of the day. The first thing the urgent care doctor said when she finally came into the room was "why would you bring him here instead of the ER with his history?" (side note: Leyton was born with gastroschisis - intestines outside of his body- which is the history she spoke about) There was no "history" as far as I was concerned. In his nearly five years, there has been zero digestive issues of any kind since he was 24 days old. She agreed to do an xray, but seemed almost determined that it would show nothing.
It showed something. It showed what she thought might be an abnormality. So off to St. Ritas we went.
The Ambulatory Care folks called ahead for us and gave me a form to give to the ER. This form would tell St. Ritas all they would need to know and expedite the process. Or so we were told.
Instead, we arrived at the ER with only two others in the waiting room. Those folks were called back while Kendra A. stumbled and fumbled her way through trying to figure out how to handle a transfer patient. There was a lot of phone calls and "how you do that? where do the 'e' go?" Finally she told us to have a seat. There was no one else in the waiting room. No one. At one point in the 15 or so minutes we waiting, a lady came out and called for another patient, who wasn't there, then retreated. Meanwhile, another hospital employee came up to chat with Kendra A. Leyton, by this point, began having bouts of pain so sever that he would cry loudly for a couple minutes. Almost like contractions, these would attack every 5-7 minutes.
My wife doesn't like when I get impatient in public. I tend to get rude. I got rude with Kendra A. and asked when Leyton might get seen, since, you know, this is an actual emergency and he was sent here by another physician. She disappeared into the beck only to return and say "he's next." Well no shit, he's next; there is no one else in the waiting room.
We get into the triage area and they can't figure out how much Leyton weighs - you know, important stuff since he'd already been weighed and he's here on referral for an actual emergency unlike the bulk of those who hang out at St. Ritas every time they get an STD or a hangnail. One woman had the balls to ask if Leyton had a tummy ache when he was mid-attack. That's when Valerie, who never ever says what's on her mind, asked if maybe they hadn't gotten the memo. The other guy then hurried off to find out what we were talking about. Soon, though not soon enough, we were moved to a room.
From there it was testing and lots of it. Leyton had a CT scan and the CT tech kept trying to reassure him during his screaming fits, which are now almost constant, that things would be okay and that his mommy's right there. Finally, I broke the news to her that Leyton isn't scared, but he is in a great deal of pain, so her soothing words are doing no good to anyone.
Another near hour passed and while nurses went in and out of his room, Leyton never saw a doctor. By this point he had been at St. Rita's for over three hours without a doctor ever glancing at him at all. I was getting as loud as Leyton was - his pain and loud crying constant. Some asshole nurse even came and shut his door at one point. I guess he was bothering her. I opened that back up.
I didn't like being the asshole parent, but it sure felt like we were the only three people in that hospital that gave a shit what was happening with Leyton. Finally, my fit-throwing drew the attention of a CNP and eventually a doctor. Finally, they gave him some morphine. The first dose did nothing. The second dose and also some other stuff helped to ease the pain.
They wanted another CT, this one with contrast, and they said we had a twisting of the bowel. That means surgery. The doctor said he'd talk to the surgeon and see if he was comfortable working on a child of this age. If not, I was told, they'd talk to Columbus. I said then let's just go to Columbus.
So the CT was done, including barium enema and it was decided that instead of ambulance ride, Leyton was taking a helicopter (per request of Children's Hospital). Two hours later, Valerie and I arrived in Columbus. Leyton had been there in a half an hour.
The folks at Children's are a different breed, I think. The care is night and day. From the moment we walked in to find four nurses surrounding Leyton, keeping him company, I knew this was the only place we should be. There was constant updates given and while we did have to endure another xray and another CT (St. Ritas sent the same CT twice instead of sending both of those they did - thanks again for that one) we moved quickly and before long, Leyton was being prepped for surgery. The last CT we had included no fewer than four doctors and two nurses in the room. From there it was a matter of getting the surgeon out of bed at 3 am to make it happen. At just after 4 am, we met with Dr. King (described by the anesthesia guy as a great surgeon but not very friendly). He has matter-of-fact, but otherwise okay. I'd rather have a great surgeon than a helluva nice guy cutting open my son. Later, I saw his name on the wall of fame at Children's - he's a good one.
Finally, Valerie and I got some rest, although short. We crashed out in the waiting room for about an hour. Dr. King came in and told us all was well. They were able to fix the twist with no loss of bowel. It was the best possible news. Additionally, they removed his appendix and moved his belly button over a bit to make it more centered.
Apart from the struggles of the security guy to create our access, all else was good and soon Valerie and I were able to take a nap along side Leyton in his room.
As I write this, Leyton is resting pretty comfortably. He's learned to work the remote, but also has cleared some hurdles and he's been up walking around and generally getting better. He's gonna be here for at least five more days, which sucks since Valerie and I both have to work, but thankfully Rob and Beth are once again there for us, watching the other kids and taking time off work to help. They are awesome people and are constantly giving of themselves.
I sucks being so far from home, but I know given the "care" he got in Lima, that this is the only place we should be with Leyton. These people, this place, they're different - no question about it. Get well soon, Buddy.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
A Break in the Clouds
About five years ago or so, I began writing. I had been recently married and my wife wasn't much of a fan of sports in general or baseball in particular and she couldn't care less about the Tigers. In dire need of an outlet, I found the online community at Bless You Boys and eventually decided I had more to say than would fit in the comments section. That was how the original version of this little corner of the internet was started: as a Tigers baseball blog.
There have been many highs and lows along the way, but I am forever grateful that things began the way they did for me. Valerie is a much bigger fan of the Tigers now and we watch games together all the time. She even pretends to care about some of the issues with the team that I cannot help but to rail about. Sometimes, anyway. My writing has jumped around from network to network and from site to site, but I've been writing, pretty much non-stop, since 2008.
This afternoon, I had a second interview with the Van Wert Times Bulletin for the vacant Sports Editor position. Instead of an actual interview, however, the first thing the guy said to me was "Well, what do you think?" My reply was simply to ask how soon he needed me. Just like that, I was given the job.
I never went to Journalism school. I attended college, but didn't finish a degree. I have never written for a newspaper and until my initial interview with the Times Bulletin, I had never even stepped foot inside a newsroom of any kind. I have never even covered a live sporting event as media.
But, thanks to my work online, I am now the Sports Editor at an AP award-winning newspaper. My hobby, that I have devoted far too much time to and gotten far too little pay for, has now become my career. And for the first time in 14 months, I have a career.
I will only recount the past year or so in order to better appreciate where I am today. I was fired by the car dealership I worked for. It was a crap job and I really didn't like it at all, but it was income. I continued writing for the network I have been with for four years or so, in hopes that it would lead to a full-time position with the company. That looked like a sure thing until they no longer saw the value of my role. That was just a couple of months ago. Earlier this Summer, I was finally called in for a final interview at P&G, only to learn that I didn't get that job, either. Oh, and our rental property has been a headache the whole time.
During all of this, Valerie has carried the load, working 50+ hour weeks at a hog farm while I have spent my days with the kids and the housework. It has often times been trying and sometimes miserable, but I couldn't be happier that I've had the opportunity to spend so much time getting to know them and helping them be the little people they are becoming. Most fathers don't get that chance and I know it has enriched my life in ways I cannot express. For that, I am eternally grateful to those folks at the dealership who saw fit to relieve me of duties.
I have a big family and we have scraped by on very little income for quite a while now. Along the way, I think we've learned that maybe everything really does happen for a reason. Maybe you really do have to go through Hell to get to Heaven. And maybe things do have a way of evening out.
It's been a long time since we had a winning streak, but the tide is turning here at La Maison Parent.
It looks like the rental property is finally going away and hopefully will be out of Valerie's name. I have secured an actual big kid job doing something I love, and while it doesn't pay a ton, it will be a much better income than I've had in quite a while, and Valerie and I have probably never been happier.
It will be an adjustment, this new working outside of the home thing, and hopefully we can make the best of it. There are good things ahead for our family and I am so thankful to be able to say that.
There have been many highs and lows along the way, but I am forever grateful that things began the way they did for me. Valerie is a much bigger fan of the Tigers now and we watch games together all the time. She even pretends to care about some of the issues with the team that I cannot help but to rail about. Sometimes, anyway. My writing has jumped around from network to network and from site to site, but I've been writing, pretty much non-stop, since 2008.
This afternoon, I had a second interview with the Van Wert Times Bulletin for the vacant Sports Editor position. Instead of an actual interview, however, the first thing the guy said to me was "Well, what do you think?" My reply was simply to ask how soon he needed me. Just like that, I was given the job.
I never went to Journalism school. I attended college, but didn't finish a degree. I have never written for a newspaper and until my initial interview with the Times Bulletin, I had never even stepped foot inside a newsroom of any kind. I have never even covered a live sporting event as media.
But, thanks to my work online, I am now the Sports Editor at an AP award-winning newspaper. My hobby, that I have devoted far too much time to and gotten far too little pay for, has now become my career. And for the first time in 14 months, I have a career.
I will only recount the past year or so in order to better appreciate where I am today. I was fired by the car dealership I worked for. It was a crap job and I really didn't like it at all, but it was income. I continued writing for the network I have been with for four years or so, in hopes that it would lead to a full-time position with the company. That looked like a sure thing until they no longer saw the value of my role. That was just a couple of months ago. Earlier this Summer, I was finally called in for a final interview at P&G, only to learn that I didn't get that job, either. Oh, and our rental property has been a headache the whole time.
During all of this, Valerie has carried the load, working 50+ hour weeks at a hog farm while I have spent my days with the kids and the housework. It has often times been trying and sometimes miserable, but I couldn't be happier that I've had the opportunity to spend so much time getting to know them and helping them be the little people they are becoming. Most fathers don't get that chance and I know it has enriched my life in ways I cannot express. For that, I am eternally grateful to those folks at the dealership who saw fit to relieve me of duties.
I have a big family and we have scraped by on very little income for quite a while now. Along the way, I think we've learned that maybe everything really does happen for a reason. Maybe you really do have to go through Hell to get to Heaven. And maybe things do have a way of evening out.
It's been a long time since we had a winning streak, but the tide is turning here at La Maison Parent.
It looks like the rental property is finally going away and hopefully will be out of Valerie's name. I have secured an actual big kid job doing something I love, and while it doesn't pay a ton, it will be a much better income than I've had in quite a while, and Valerie and I have probably never been happier.
It will be an adjustment, this new working outside of the home thing, and hopefully we can make the best of it. There are good things ahead for our family and I am so thankful to be able to say that.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Soccer Sunday
It's soccer season and in a family with five children (three of them old enough to play), that means nightly trips to the soccer fields. We have one playing on Mondays, on on Tuesday and Thursday and one on Wednesday. Every team in every division plays a game on Soccer Sunday, however, and that's when team photos are taken as well.
What that means for us, as a family, is that we had to get to the fields at 1130 in the morning yesterday and couldn't leave until after 430 in the afternoon.
Needless to say, my shaved head is a wonderful shade of purple today, it is so burnt. Even just arching my eyebrows causes pain.
Leyton is an active player, which is a start. In his age group, it's really nothing more than partially controlled chaos. He runs, but I'm not sure he knows why he's running. He seems interested and his attention doesn't wander on the field, which is far more than I can say about many of his teammates.
Sebastian scored two goals in a scrimmage the other day. Those are the first two goals scored by one of my kids in the combined five seasons of play. When they put the uniforms on for the first time, however, it was as if he had never even seen a soccer ball before. Sebastian should be much better at this than he is, and he has improved, but something just doesn't click with him and soccer. He's a step or two behind everybody else.
Lillian's team is in the 8-10 age group and you can see a big difference in the play. There was an actual pass, on purpose, to an open teammate that lead directly to a goal. I had never seen one of kids' teams run a play before. As Brittany noted, it will probably be until the boys get into that age group that I'll see one from their teams. Still, Lillian did some good things and she ran hard and seemed to have an idea of where she should be. You can tell that for the first time, there is a deeper thinking put into playing the game; it's not just about chasing the ball anymore. So that's cool. Makes for a far more entertaining game.
It was a long day in the hot sun and I certainly wasn't the only person to suffer the effects. But it's behind us now for another year. Now, we get shorter, but more frequent doses of youth soccer.
What that means for us, as a family, is that we had to get to the fields at 1130 in the morning yesterday and couldn't leave until after 430 in the afternoon.
Needless to say, my shaved head is a wonderful shade of purple today, it is so burnt. Even just arching my eyebrows causes pain.
Leyton is an active player, which is a start. In his age group, it's really nothing more than partially controlled chaos. He runs, but I'm not sure he knows why he's running. He seems interested and his attention doesn't wander on the field, which is far more than I can say about many of his teammates.
Sebastian scored two goals in a scrimmage the other day. Those are the first two goals scored by one of my kids in the combined five seasons of play. When they put the uniforms on for the first time, however, it was as if he had never even seen a soccer ball before. Sebastian should be much better at this than he is, and he has improved, but something just doesn't click with him and soccer. He's a step or two behind everybody else.
Lillian's team is in the 8-10 age group and you can see a big difference in the play. There was an actual pass, on purpose, to an open teammate that lead directly to a goal. I had never seen one of kids' teams run a play before. As Brittany noted, it will probably be until the boys get into that age group that I'll see one from their teams. Still, Lillian did some good things and she ran hard and seemed to have an idea of where she should be. You can tell that for the first time, there is a deeper thinking put into playing the game; it's not just about chasing the ball anymore. So that's cool. Makes for a far more entertaining game.
It was a long day in the hot sun and I certainly wasn't the only person to suffer the effects. But it's behind us now for another year. Now, we get shorter, but more frequent doses of youth soccer.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Are you there, God? It's me, John
I spent some time in prayer last night. This is something that doesn't happen often.
It's not that I don't believe in a higher power per se, it's that I have a lot of questions and I have been unable to find satisfactory answers.
When you consider that the Bible is a book several centuries old and one that has been copied by hand thousands of times, and translated into dozens of languages, each time by a different translator, oh, and that every time a new King took over in England, the Bible was altered significantly, I think a little skepticism about the contents is not only rational but responsible.
While I may not blindly believe all of the stories I've been taught, I am fairly certain that this existence isn't just a collection of randomness; there has to be some grand design, doesn't there?
With that in mind, and when considering all of the decisions that had to have been made exactly how they were in order for any of us to wind up where we are, it's terrifying to think where we would be if any one of those decisions were made differently.
So, on occasion, I do direct my thoughts at this higher power. I wanted to make sure last night, as I was thinking about the good things that have happened lately, that I gave at least some credit to that grand design. Too often, I think the only time "God" is brought in is when there is blame to be assigned or in times of desperation. That's not fair, is it? If he exists when you have no where else to turn, he'd darn well better exist when you do.
There is no real conclusion to be drawn from this post. It's more just a thought that came over me and I decided to write it down.
It's not that I don't believe in a higher power per se, it's that I have a lot of questions and I have been unable to find satisfactory answers.
When you consider that the Bible is a book several centuries old and one that has been copied by hand thousands of times, and translated into dozens of languages, each time by a different translator, oh, and that every time a new King took over in England, the Bible was altered significantly, I think a little skepticism about the contents is not only rational but responsible.
While I may not blindly believe all of the stories I've been taught, I am fairly certain that this existence isn't just a collection of randomness; there has to be some grand design, doesn't there?
With that in mind, and when considering all of the decisions that had to have been made exactly how they were in order for any of us to wind up where we are, it's terrifying to think where we would be if any one of those decisions were made differently.
So, on occasion, I do direct my thoughts at this higher power. I wanted to make sure last night, as I was thinking about the good things that have happened lately, that I gave at least some credit to that grand design. Too often, I think the only time "God" is brought in is when there is blame to be assigned or in times of desperation. That's not fair, is it? If he exists when you have no where else to turn, he'd darn well better exist when you do.
There is no real conclusion to be drawn from this post. It's more just a thought that came over me and I decided to write it down.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Incognito
If you are reading this, you are one of a select few who have been alerted to the new url (or you're handy with a Google search). Count yourselves among the most trusted in my inner circle.
I discovered, through the publishing of my thoughts at my old url, that several people got offended every time I would post. So, I was faced with the decision to stop writing altogether, which I didn't want, to write only heavily-filtered content, which doesn't seem at all authentic, or to start a new site. Fortunately, I was able to keep everything the same but change the address and here I am.
There is a great freedom in being able to write without any filter whatsoever. So much has taken place in recent months and I've kept most of that held inside. I don't only mean that I haven't written about it, I mean that I haven't even dealt with it myself; processed the turmoil in my head.
I was demoted by FanSided last month. After devoting four-and-a-half years to the network and positioning myself as "next in line" for full-time employment (their words, not mine), I was not only bypassed by two other people, but told I was no longer being considered as a member of leadership in any form.
Ultimately, I was offered, and accepted a different role within the company. I did this so I could keep the meager earnings they throw at me every month. In many ways the new role is satisfying, but it's difficult to accept that the network bosses were so tired of the help that I was trying to offer that they moved on completely. Instead of having an indirect influence on the progress of the network, I now edit copy for a couple sites.
That alone has been eye-opening. We have a few terrible writers. We have a lot of good ones, but some of them are absolutely painful to read.
So, I'm still dealing with that. There was an email chain today that went in a direction away from where I would have liked it. I felt great frustration in knowing that I didn't have a voice in how that decision was made. Why I'm still included in that email chain, I have no idea.
Outside of my hobby/career as a writer, though, I'm actually feeling pretty good in the last couple of days. I've slept better and yesterday I was in a good mood all day - like seriously all day. I realize this is something most people say as a throw-away line. They don't have to give it much thought because I assume most people are generally happy (or ignorant enough to not notice that they aren't). The world is made for people who aren't cursed with self-awareness. Someone famous once said that. I'd look it up, but it doesn't matter who said it, really; the point is that it's true.
I am, unfortunately, self-aware. As such, I spend time over analyzing things in my head to the point where I squeeze every ounce of joy and fun out of a given scenario and am left with only the worst-case, which is what I expect to take place. Man, that's a miserable way to exist.
I have children. Small ones, and many of them. Those tiny people don't always see things the way I see them, nor should they. I have softened a bit in being around them so often. I don't know if my wife would agree, or the kids for that matter, but I know it's happened; I've seen it. I've noticed the times where the reactionary answer is "no," but I pause before speaking and say "yes." It still doesn't happen often enough, but it happens more than it used to.
I suppose it's true that life is a constant evolution. We are all, at any given point, in a period of transition. My transition is maybe a little more noticeable that others, if only because it currently involves tangible things like employment.
Whatever the reason, and I have my theory, I'm a little more comfortable with the world. I've accepted and am adjusting to the FanSided thing. I'm enjoying the lack of real responsibility there. I'm hopeful that I'll be able to land full-time employment as the sports editor of the Times Bulletin, which should be decided within a couple of weeks. I'm excited to cover sports on the local level rather than the national stage. I'm enjoying my wife, my kids, and in-laws, which is the only extended family I really have anymore. All in all, I'm fairly content amidst my turbulence.
Things always seem to have a way of working themselves out. You just gotta trust it.
I discovered, through the publishing of my thoughts at my old url, that several people got offended every time I would post. So, I was faced with the decision to stop writing altogether, which I didn't want, to write only heavily-filtered content, which doesn't seem at all authentic, or to start a new site. Fortunately, I was able to keep everything the same but change the address and here I am.
There is a great freedom in being able to write without any filter whatsoever. So much has taken place in recent months and I've kept most of that held inside. I don't only mean that I haven't written about it, I mean that I haven't even dealt with it myself; processed the turmoil in my head.
I was demoted by FanSided last month. After devoting four-and-a-half years to the network and positioning myself as "next in line" for full-time employment (their words, not mine), I was not only bypassed by two other people, but told I was no longer being considered as a member of leadership in any form.
Ultimately, I was offered, and accepted a different role within the company. I did this so I could keep the meager earnings they throw at me every month. In many ways the new role is satisfying, but it's difficult to accept that the network bosses were so tired of the help that I was trying to offer that they moved on completely. Instead of having an indirect influence on the progress of the network, I now edit copy for a couple sites.
That alone has been eye-opening. We have a few terrible writers. We have a lot of good ones, but some of them are absolutely painful to read.
So, I'm still dealing with that. There was an email chain today that went in a direction away from where I would have liked it. I felt great frustration in knowing that I didn't have a voice in how that decision was made. Why I'm still included in that email chain, I have no idea.
Outside of my hobby/career as a writer, though, I'm actually feeling pretty good in the last couple of days. I've slept better and yesterday I was in a good mood all day - like seriously all day. I realize this is something most people say as a throw-away line. They don't have to give it much thought because I assume most people are generally happy (or ignorant enough to not notice that they aren't). The world is made for people who aren't cursed with self-awareness. Someone famous once said that. I'd look it up, but it doesn't matter who said it, really; the point is that it's true.
I am, unfortunately, self-aware. As such, I spend time over analyzing things in my head to the point where I squeeze every ounce of joy and fun out of a given scenario and am left with only the worst-case, which is what I expect to take place. Man, that's a miserable way to exist.
I have children. Small ones, and many of them. Those tiny people don't always see things the way I see them, nor should they. I have softened a bit in being around them so often. I don't know if my wife would agree, or the kids for that matter, but I know it's happened; I've seen it. I've noticed the times where the reactionary answer is "no," but I pause before speaking and say "yes." It still doesn't happen often enough, but it happens more than it used to.
I suppose it's true that life is a constant evolution. We are all, at any given point, in a period of transition. My transition is maybe a little more noticeable that others, if only because it currently involves tangible things like employment.
Whatever the reason, and I have my theory, I'm a little more comfortable with the world. I've accepted and am adjusting to the FanSided thing. I'm enjoying the lack of real responsibility there. I'm hopeful that I'll be able to land full-time employment as the sports editor of the Times Bulletin, which should be decided within a couple of weeks. I'm excited to cover sports on the local level rather than the national stage. I'm enjoying my wife, my kids, and in-laws, which is the only extended family I really have anymore. All in all, I'm fairly content amidst my turbulence.
Things always seem to have a way of working themselves out. You just gotta trust it.
Friday, August 2, 2013
When Sleep Won't Come
I'm in a bad place.
I can't sleep, I more irritable than normal. I've been eating pretty much non-stop. I have a very short fuse lately.
Things have to turn around sooner or later, don't they? You'd think. But everytime I think we're back on the upswing we find a new low. "We," an interesting choice of words. I'm really only talking about myself here. The royal "we" I guess.
The details aren't important or maybe they are and I just don't want to type them all out. I already re-live them every night when I try to sleep. My mind doesn't have an off switch. I'm only even writing this because I went to bed an hour-and-a-half ago and wound up back downstairs, again unable to find the calm needed to drift off.
I don't know what to do or how to get things going again. We had been holding the family finances together by threads as it was and now have lost the rental income and are down nearly $400 per month in income. That's a lot of money.
Meanwhile, in May I thought for sure I'd have my pick of two lucrative jobs. Instead, I somehow wound up getting offered neither one. Any pipe dream I had of working for FanSided, the network I've devoted nearly five years to, is dead.
So last week, my mother-in-law showed me a classified ad that a local newspaper is hiring a sports editor. Finally, a job that I not only want, but am actually very well qualified for. I cleaned up my resume, wrote a dynamite cover letter, even got a letter of recommendation from FanSided. I emailed the Editor-in-chief, attaching all of my information and then dropped hard copies in the mail to him in case the attachments wouldn't open for some reason. For me, it was only a question of whether or not I would screw up the interview.
Instead, the ad still runs in the paper every day and no one has called me. I am starting to lose confidence here.
So between the rental house being vacant and for sale, my lack of a job, our rapidly dwindling financial reserves, and the daily pressures of family life, I'm in a pretty good funk here.
I don't know what to do, but I'm looking all around this tunnel and I don't see even a flicker of light.
I can't sleep, I more irritable than normal. I've been eating pretty much non-stop. I have a very short fuse lately.
Things have to turn around sooner or later, don't they? You'd think. But everytime I think we're back on the upswing we find a new low. "We," an interesting choice of words. I'm really only talking about myself here. The royal "we" I guess.
The details aren't important or maybe they are and I just don't want to type them all out. I already re-live them every night when I try to sleep. My mind doesn't have an off switch. I'm only even writing this because I went to bed an hour-and-a-half ago and wound up back downstairs, again unable to find the calm needed to drift off.
I don't know what to do or how to get things going again. We had been holding the family finances together by threads as it was and now have lost the rental income and are down nearly $400 per month in income. That's a lot of money.
Meanwhile, in May I thought for sure I'd have my pick of two lucrative jobs. Instead, I somehow wound up getting offered neither one. Any pipe dream I had of working for FanSided, the network I've devoted nearly five years to, is dead.
So last week, my mother-in-law showed me a classified ad that a local newspaper is hiring a sports editor. Finally, a job that I not only want, but am actually very well qualified for. I cleaned up my resume, wrote a dynamite cover letter, even got a letter of recommendation from FanSided. I emailed the Editor-in-chief, attaching all of my information and then dropped hard copies in the mail to him in case the attachments wouldn't open for some reason. For me, it was only a question of whether or not I would screw up the interview.
Instead, the ad still runs in the paper every day and no one has called me. I am starting to lose confidence here.
So between the rental house being vacant and for sale, my lack of a job, our rapidly dwindling financial reserves, and the daily pressures of family life, I'm in a pretty good funk here.
I don't know what to do, but I'm looking all around this tunnel and I don't see even a flicker of light.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Not So Fast
So Bio-dad is back. When last we spoke, I detailed how he had given up and we had begun the process of adoption. That plan lasted all of about six weeks. The day before we were to meet with our lawyer to draft the paperwork, he came calling.
I won't bore you all with the details, but it's been a couple of months now and he really seems to be a new man. According to reports, he's given up drinking and smoking. He moved back in with his parents and he's been the ultra-attentive father he should have been all along.
I am extremely happy for the kids. This is exactly what I had always hoped would happen. I certainly wish he hadn't waited so damn long to embrace the idea of having such wonderful kids, but he finally seems to be manning up. Good for him and good for them.
Of course, there is the other side of that tale.
I don't know if this will come off as selfish and I'm not sure it matters. But, if my kids are to someday read these words, as is my intention, I do want them to know how disappointed I am that I don't get to give them my name and make them legally mine. I have been the one man who has been there for them every single day for the past five-and-a-half years and still there are people who call me a "step-dad;" a mere fill-in for the real thing. Meanwhile, he shows up yet again and all of a sudden all the shit he put those kids through for the past five years is forgotten.
Yeah, that hurts a little.
At the same time though, I am so happy for the kids. No one should ever have to go through life wondering why their father didn't want them, why he didn't love them. I certainly am not accepting his reformation as permanent at this point; he's got a lot of negative equity built up he'll have to overcome first. But I hope he can do it. I hope he can stay on the straight edge. I hope he'll be the dad he's supposed to be.
I'll be okay with that because it's the best thing for my kids.
And if he's not up to the task, I'll be there. Just like I always have been.
I won't bore you all with the details, but it's been a couple of months now and he really seems to be a new man. According to reports, he's given up drinking and smoking. He moved back in with his parents and he's been the ultra-attentive father he should have been all along.
I am extremely happy for the kids. This is exactly what I had always hoped would happen. I certainly wish he hadn't waited so damn long to embrace the idea of having such wonderful kids, but he finally seems to be manning up. Good for him and good for them.
Of course, there is the other side of that tale.
I don't know if this will come off as selfish and I'm not sure it matters. But, if my kids are to someday read these words, as is my intention, I do want them to know how disappointed I am that I don't get to give them my name and make them legally mine. I have been the one man who has been there for them every single day for the past five-and-a-half years and still there are people who call me a "step-dad;" a mere fill-in for the real thing. Meanwhile, he shows up yet again and all of a sudden all the shit he put those kids through for the past five years is forgotten.
Yeah, that hurts a little.
At the same time though, I am so happy for the kids. No one should ever have to go through life wondering why their father didn't want them, why he didn't love them. I certainly am not accepting his reformation as permanent at this point; he's got a lot of negative equity built up he'll have to overcome first. But I hope he can do it. I hope he can stay on the straight edge. I hope he'll be the dad he's supposed to be.
I'll be okay with that because it's the best thing for my kids.
And if he's not up to the task, I'll be there. Just like I always have been.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Blending the Blended Family
It's been five years since Valerie and I moved in together. Five years since I met Lillian and Sebastian, who were then not yet three and two years old.
At that point, I was nothing more than a stranger to them, and I had no idea how to interact with these two little kids. There was rarely a comfortable moment for me, as I always felt I was doing something wrong with them. These weren't my kids and even though I had moved into their house, I really had no clue how to raise them, or even how to talk to them. To say this was a foreign experience would be the understatement of the century. I may as well been dropped into a strange household in China.
I'd like to tell you what a great time this was for me and for all of us, but that's just not the case. I couldn't be happier in my marriage and with my family today, but things were more than a little difficult at the beginning. For all of us.
In the beginning, bio-dad was still very much a fixture in our lives, so much so that he would come to our house to watch the kids each morning while Valerie went to work instead of her having to wake the kids and take them to him. That part stopped when I moved in, of course, but it may have been the last time he was really a dedicated father. I guess when I showed up, he no longer felt he had to be. I don't know.
Over the years, he's been less and less reliable. There is always an excuse as to why he doesn't show up, but those excuses are generally saved for the days or weeks after he disappears. On the odd occasion he actually does pick up the kids for his weekend, he coops them up in his apartment while he takes naps all day, only to return them to our house shortly after he wakes up. Most of the time, if he has them for five hours in his 48 hour weekend, he's done a lot.
More than once Valerie and I have openly wished he would just go away for good. Not having him at all would surely be better for the kids than constantly being lied to and having their hearts broken.
Last week, bio-dad announced via an unprovoked text message to Valerie that he was ready to sign the papers. He didn't want to keep being their dad. Lillian read the text before Valerie did.
Well, apparently signing over your rights as a dad isn't really a thing, at least not without an adoption. Of course, I was always going to adopt them if it ever came to it. I just didn't expect it ever would. And while I'm thrilled to be able to give these two my last name, my heart also breaks for them. I couldn't imagine ever having to try to figure out why my dad didn't want to be a part of my life. It's sickening to do that to another human being, let alone to your own flesh and blood.
He says it's the right thing to do. No, you selfish piece of crap, it's not. The right thing to do would be to put your children ahead of yourself. The right thing to do would be to spend as much time as possible, not as much time as convenient, being a real dad to your kids. And I'll give you a hint, you don't have to take 'em to the zoo or to get ice cream every day; all you have to do is show up and spend time with them. Hang out with them. Talk to them. Be a part of their lives. That's the right thing to do.
This isn't going to be easy for either of them. Of course, Valerie sat them down and explained what was going on. There were plenty of tears and both are dealing with a lot of emotion right now. Lillian stays strong on the outside, but I don't think you can just turn off a rejection like this. Sebastian has been a staunch supporter of bio-dad forever, always sticking up for him and making excuses for his behavior. Now he too has to face reality and he's always already been so emotional that adding what can only be the most difficult thing in his life will be even harder.
The process, from what I hear is expensive. It's not unlike adopting a child from outside the home, I guess. We have to go see a lawyer, Valerie and I both have to be fingerprinted and have background checks done, which is odd because she's their mom no matter what, but I guess that's the way the law is written. We also have to have an in-home study done by a social worker and there is a stipulation that the kids must live with me for six months from when we start the process. I guess they ignore the past five years. That means this process will take at least six months, but we've been told it could be up to a year. At the end of it, the kids will get brand new birth certificates that list me as their father. It will be as if bio-dad never existed, legally anyway.
The likely cost is somewhere in the neighborhood of $4000. And that doesn't even factor in the loss of child support. All in all, this is an expensive undertaking. We had earmarked our tax return to put siding on the house. Looks like that will wait another year. That's more than okay by me. The kids are a far better investment, anyway.
The other day we took the whole crew to Ft. Wayne to Build-a-Bear. Everyone had a blast of course. When it came time to fill out the birth certificates, however, we encountered a problem. They wanted the kids' first and last names. And here we were in the middle of a store swarming with happy, loud kids and suddenly we were faced with our oldest son and daughter having to choose whether to list their current last name, or the one they would be getting. They both handled it smoothly, but the moment struck me, probably more than it did them. That's not a decision any person should be forced to make, especially not at six or seven years old.
Last night they went out to play in the front yard. Shortly thereafter, they summoned Valerie to see what they had created. In sidewalk chalk, Lillian and Sebastian covered the front porch, the walkway and the sidewalk with "the Parents" over and over again.
We've come a long way in the last five years and since I got to know them, I have always considered those kids to be my own. I'm excited to be able to make it official. And I'm even more excited that both of them seem to want the same thing, even as hard as I'm sure this process is for them, and will continue to be.
Monday, March 11, 2013
A Different Kind of Writer's Block
I miss writing.
For those of you who don't know, as a hobby I spend my free time scouting and recruiting writers to join the FanSided sports network. Before a few months ago, my primary function at said network was as a writer. In order to devote more time to the non-writing stuff they need me to do, I gave up the writing.
Sure, I still have this humble forum, but I fear it has become something I never intended it to be. It's now a place where I can't write freely without worrying and over analyzing each word to see if it can be misconstrued in some way or another. People have been getting angry with me over what I write here, regardless of my intentions. This site was only supposed to be a way for my kids to look back on me one day after I'm gone, to get to know their dad and who he was; his inner-most workings.
Unfortunately, too often I've felt I need to apologize to the others in my life who also read these pages, though rarely has there been malicious intent. I guess I'm not allowed to be honest here, and if I can't do that, then there is no point. I don't want my kids getting a false impression of me.
So, I don't write at FanSided and I don't feel free to write here. But I do miss the writing.
I may have to start covering baseball again or perhaps I can start a new site and just keep the link to only myself. Of course, then if I were to drop dead or get hit by a bus, my kids wouldn't find it, so I guess I should tell someone where it is. Maybe just my wife.
Of course, if she were to be hit by the same bus that would do no good either. But if I tell more people than were back to the problems I have here.
I guess I just wish that people who know me would realize that I am, and have always been, direct enough to address any issues I have with them. I don't often talk in code (though I am doing so right now) and I don't mince my words. I certainly wouldn't openly write a piece calling someone out without actually doing so. I mean, look at the pieces I've written about Bio-dad. Sure, I don't mention his given name, but I'm not exactly hiding who I'm talking about. And those pieces have been hyper-critical.
This is all very frustrating to me, because I don't feel I've done or said or written anything that should have been taken the wrong way; nothing I should need to apologize for. Yet I don't think I can keep writing here without causing more drama.
I don't know. I'll think on it and see what happens I guess.
For those of you who don't know, as a hobby I spend my free time scouting and recruiting writers to join the FanSided sports network. Before a few months ago, my primary function at said network was as a writer. In order to devote more time to the non-writing stuff they need me to do, I gave up the writing.
Sure, I still have this humble forum, but I fear it has become something I never intended it to be. It's now a place where I can't write freely without worrying and over analyzing each word to see if it can be misconstrued in some way or another. People have been getting angry with me over what I write here, regardless of my intentions. This site was only supposed to be a way for my kids to look back on me one day after I'm gone, to get to know their dad and who he was; his inner-most workings.
Unfortunately, too often I've felt I need to apologize to the others in my life who also read these pages, though rarely has there been malicious intent. I guess I'm not allowed to be honest here, and if I can't do that, then there is no point. I don't want my kids getting a false impression of me.
So, I don't write at FanSided and I don't feel free to write here. But I do miss the writing.
I may have to start covering baseball again or perhaps I can start a new site and just keep the link to only myself. Of course, then if I were to drop dead or get hit by a bus, my kids wouldn't find it, so I guess I should tell someone where it is. Maybe just my wife.
Of course, if she were to be hit by the same bus that would do no good either. But if I tell more people than were back to the problems I have here.
I guess I just wish that people who know me would realize that I am, and have always been, direct enough to address any issues I have with them. I don't often talk in code (though I am doing so right now) and I don't mince my words. I certainly wouldn't openly write a piece calling someone out without actually doing so. I mean, look at the pieces I've written about Bio-dad. Sure, I don't mention his given name, but I'm not exactly hiding who I'm talking about. And those pieces have been hyper-critical.
This is all very frustrating to me, because I don't feel I've done or said or written anything that should have been taken the wrong way; nothing I should need to apologize for. Yet I don't think I can keep writing here without causing more drama.
I don't know. I'll think on it and see what happens I guess.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Tolerance and Acceptance and the Sad Lack Thereof
"There are only two things I can't stand in this world: people who are intolerant of other people's cultures, and the DUTCH!"
It's 2013. This isn't the 1960s when the civil rights movement was taking place. This isn't the Middle East where women have virtually no rights. This isn't the Colonial days when people could be murdered on suspicion of witchcraft; a clever cover used to persecute those who didn't adhere to the strict religious code of the era.
It's disturbing to me, therefore, at a time when we have just elected our first African American president to his second term, that I seem to see more hate and intolerance than I have seen before in my lifetime.
I live the heart of one of the most proudly conservative towns in the country, at least I hope there isn't this much blind intolerance in other cities. It frustrates me everyday to see and hear the things people say about others; the judgements they make based on nothing more than the appearance of another human being. At a time in our history when we should be more united than ever, it seems the divide is instead growing.
Did you lose your job and have to rely on government assistance of some kind? Given the devastating crash of the economy a few years ago, there were and are many millions of American affected that find themselves in such a predicament. Those people are faced with the choice of accepting the help that's needed to keep their families fed or to maintain their pride and refuse the help. No responsible adult would ever allow pride to prevent their children from eating or prevent the mortgage from being paid.
Yet, everyday there is another ruthless comment on facebook from another elitist who feels the need to judge the less fortunate and complain about waiting in line behind someone using WIC coupons at the grocery store. I got into an argument online the other day when someone referred to "THOSE" persons using food stamps. The woman insisted the offensive persons had enough money for their drugs. I guess the poor guy or gal at the grocery must have rolled up a joint right there while waiting for the cashier to process the order. Otherwise, I don't see how she could have known.
Of course, she didn't know anything and her comment proved her ignorance. Clearly, her husband didn't lose his job and she didn't lose hers. She is one of the lucky ones. It's a shame she doesn't realize how lucky she is. Instead, she takes pride in smugly judging others based on their financial situation and assuming she knows their problems based on nothing but how they look in line at Kroger.
Of course, even as I expressed my shock over this woman's comment, I knew I should have probably just kept my mouth shut. If I've learned nothing from my online writings over the years, I have learned to never feed the trolls. You just can't win an argument against stupid on the Internet. There is too much of it and it's too closed-minded. You can make the most coherent argument ever; one that would win debate awards, and the trolls will keep spouting their stupid. It's like trying to reason with a screaming two-year old.
If it was just a divide between the haves and the have-nots, I could probably deal with it. Unfortunately, the chasm goes much deeper and gets much uglier.
I do my best to keep my politics out of the faces of others. I don't routinely broadcast my beliefs because I know it's annoying and it won't change anyone's mind anyway. But it made me shake my head when I saw all those Romney signs in the yards in front of dilapidated houses. People who clearly should be supporting a Democratic leader based on their economic situation were staunchly supporting a Republican. I see people blaming the president for virtually everything; most of which he doesn't actually have the power to affect one way or the other. People are using politics to cover what is nothing more than racism. They didn't vote for Romney because he was the better candidate or because he had a better plan; they voted for him because he was white. And if they tell you otherwise they are probably lying.
No one likes to admit their intolerance, not even to themselves.
Then there are those who hide behind religion and blindly hate homosexuals. This, to me, is the worst kind of stupid. I won't even get into the idea of basing your life around a collection of stories that was told and re-told, copied and translated into 100 different languages, and altered (significantly) each time a new king took control of England. To assume all that is found within that book is true is more blind faith than even the most devout among us should reasonably have.
Nevertheless, you see all the time how God says homosexuality is wrong or the Bible says it's unnatural. The Bible also says that if a woman is raped, she must marry her rapist. It also says that blended fabrics are not allowed. If we are going to pick and choose which passages to follow and which to ignore, why decide to follow the one that creates hate for our fellow man? Because I'm pretty sure hating someone because they are different than you isn't very good, and isn't that what any religion should be about? Being a good person?
The biggest frustration I have had in my adult life is dealing with people who think they should have an opinion on the lives of other people and then thinking that opinion should matter. It shouldn't and doesn't. If two men or two women want to get married, how does that effect me? It doesn't. Not in any way. Whether they get married or not, I have to do all the same things in my life every day. Absolutely nothing changes for me. So why in the hell should I have an opinion about whether or not two people should get married? I shouldn't. And neither should you.
Live and let freaking live, people. It's not about you. Get over yourselves.
I don't know if I'll ever be a great father, but I can tell you that I will make sure that my kids will be raised to be tolerant and accepting of their fellow human beings, regardless of class, race, religious beliefs, or sexual preference. To me, that's the best way I can make sure I leave this world in a better place than I found it: to raise five open-minded, intelligent adults.
It's 2013. This isn't the 1960s when the civil rights movement was taking place. This isn't the Middle East where women have virtually no rights. This isn't the Colonial days when people could be murdered on suspicion of witchcraft; a clever cover used to persecute those who didn't adhere to the strict religious code of the era.
It's disturbing to me, therefore, at a time when we have just elected our first African American president to his second term, that I seem to see more hate and intolerance than I have seen before in my lifetime.
I live the heart of one of the most proudly conservative towns in the country, at least I hope there isn't this much blind intolerance in other cities. It frustrates me everyday to see and hear the things people say about others; the judgements they make based on nothing more than the appearance of another human being. At a time in our history when we should be more united than ever, it seems the divide is instead growing.
Did you lose your job and have to rely on government assistance of some kind? Given the devastating crash of the economy a few years ago, there were and are many millions of American affected that find themselves in such a predicament. Those people are faced with the choice of accepting the help that's needed to keep their families fed or to maintain their pride and refuse the help. No responsible adult would ever allow pride to prevent their children from eating or prevent the mortgage from being paid.
Yet, everyday there is another ruthless comment on facebook from another elitist who feels the need to judge the less fortunate and complain about waiting in line behind someone using WIC coupons at the grocery store. I got into an argument online the other day when someone referred to "THOSE" persons using food stamps. The woman insisted the offensive persons had enough money for their drugs. I guess the poor guy or gal at the grocery must have rolled up a joint right there while waiting for the cashier to process the order. Otherwise, I don't see how she could have known.
Of course, she didn't know anything and her comment proved her ignorance. Clearly, her husband didn't lose his job and she didn't lose hers. She is one of the lucky ones. It's a shame she doesn't realize how lucky she is. Instead, she takes pride in smugly judging others based on their financial situation and assuming she knows their problems based on nothing but how they look in line at Kroger.
Of course, even as I expressed my shock over this woman's comment, I knew I should have probably just kept my mouth shut. If I've learned nothing from my online writings over the years, I have learned to never feed the trolls. You just can't win an argument against stupid on the Internet. There is too much of it and it's too closed-minded. You can make the most coherent argument ever; one that would win debate awards, and the trolls will keep spouting their stupid. It's like trying to reason with a screaming two-year old.
If it was just a divide between the haves and the have-nots, I could probably deal with it. Unfortunately, the chasm goes much deeper and gets much uglier.
I do my best to keep my politics out of the faces of others. I don't routinely broadcast my beliefs because I know it's annoying and it won't change anyone's mind anyway. But it made me shake my head when I saw all those Romney signs in the yards in front of dilapidated houses. People who clearly should be supporting a Democratic leader based on their economic situation were staunchly supporting a Republican. I see people blaming the president for virtually everything; most of which he doesn't actually have the power to affect one way or the other. People are using politics to cover what is nothing more than racism. They didn't vote for Romney because he was the better candidate or because he had a better plan; they voted for him because he was white. And if they tell you otherwise they are probably lying.
No one likes to admit their intolerance, not even to themselves.
Then there are those who hide behind religion and blindly hate homosexuals. This, to me, is the worst kind of stupid. I won't even get into the idea of basing your life around a collection of stories that was told and re-told, copied and translated into 100 different languages, and altered (significantly) each time a new king took control of England. To assume all that is found within that book is true is more blind faith than even the most devout among us should reasonably have.
Nevertheless, you see all the time how God says homosexuality is wrong or the Bible says it's unnatural. The Bible also says that if a woman is raped, she must marry her rapist. It also says that blended fabrics are not allowed. If we are going to pick and choose which passages to follow and which to ignore, why decide to follow the one that creates hate for our fellow man? Because I'm pretty sure hating someone because they are different than you isn't very good, and isn't that what any religion should be about? Being a good person?
The biggest frustration I have had in my adult life is dealing with people who think they should have an opinion on the lives of other people and then thinking that opinion should matter. It shouldn't and doesn't. If two men or two women want to get married, how does that effect me? It doesn't. Not in any way. Whether they get married or not, I have to do all the same things in my life every day. Absolutely nothing changes for me. So why in the hell should I have an opinion about whether or not two people should get married? I shouldn't. And neither should you.
Live and let freaking live, people. It's not about you. Get over yourselves.
I don't know if I'll ever be a great father, but I can tell you that I will make sure that my kids will be raised to be tolerant and accepting of their fellow human beings, regardless of class, race, religious beliefs, or sexual preference. To me, that's the best way I can make sure I leave this world in a better place than I found it: to raise five open-minded, intelligent adults.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Seriously, Why Don't They Play More Social Disortion?
Last year I got myself a new (to me) GMC Envoy with enough room to hold my entire family. I LOVE this vehicle. Talk about loaded, this thing even has washers for the headlights, I shit you not.
My favorite feature, however, is easily the satellite radio. The fine folks at SiriusXM were kind enough to give me a free preview month and then offered my a six month deal at just five bucks per month. This is quite possibly the best $30 I have ever spent.
Those who know me well, or at least those who knew me in college or before are no doubt aware of my musical interestes. I often wondered when I was growing up how my dad could listen to all those oldies stations playing nothing but stuff from the 60s and 70s. I guess you kind of never really evolve after a certain age, because it's now better than 20 years since the Seattle sound exploded into the mainstream, but I am still very much stuck in the Grunge era.
Granted, there are no more chain wallets, no more flannels, no more Doc Martens, but I still cannot get enough of bands like Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden. I was never a huge Nirvana fan, but I feel like they have to be mentioned here as well. Bands like Candlebox and Blind Melon were, in my opinion, far better to listen to.
And while the early to mid 1990s were certainly defined by the bands I listed above, there were many others who came to prominence during that time who were wonderful in their own rights. That's why, when I tuned in my free XM radio this past summer, I was so overjoyed at finding channel 34 - Lithium - I channel dedicated to, in their words, "90s alternative and grunge." What could be better?
Unfortunately, I have noticed a very disturbing trend over the past month or so. It seems whomever is creating the playlists for this channel has a bit of a thing for three bands in particular, as their music comes up a disproportionate amount of time. The Smashing Pumpkins, Jane's Addiction, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers all see heavy rotation on Lithium while bands like Nirvana get relatively little airplay, especially their earlier songs. I find that particularly odd since Lithium is, in fact, a song title from Nirvana's iconic Nevermind album, an album that, along with Pearl Jam's Ten, ushered in the Grunge era and announced Seattle's presence as the new Mecca of alternative rock.
Now, I never loved the Pumpkins, but I did like a good number of their songs and while Billy Corgan's voice annoys the hell out of me sometimes, I can appreciate the music. I wish they didn't play the Pumpkins quite so often, but I can deal with it and I rarely wander off to a different channel when they come on the air.
Seriously though, there is zero excuse for the other two bands to be seeing anywhere near this much airtime. I mean, is Flea of the board of directors for SiriusXM or something?
Jane's Addictions was a short-lived, but talented band that featured guitarist Dave Navarro and frontman Perry Ferrell. I don't love Ferrell's vocals, but the he and the band had a unique sound.
Bassist Flea was a brief member of Jane's Addiction, though not a member of the original lineup. JA's success came as headliners of the first Lalapalooza Tour in 1991, years before Flea became involved. Unfortunately for the music-loving world (or at least me, as I recognize I may be alone in this opinion), Flea had gotten "big" (in quotations because he's actually very short) with the Chili Peppers, who, as best I can tell, did all of the exact same things Jane's Addiction did only not nearly so well as Jane's Addiction did them. This includes, but is not limited to, songwriting.
I mean honestly, is there a Chili Peppers song in which Anthony Kiedis does not spend at least one verse simply making incoherent mouth sounds instead of singing actual words? It's as if he wrote the song and realized he only had enough to cover about two-and-a-half minutes and needed to stretch it out to four. Instead of writing another verse, he decided just to throw in some ba-dinga-dong-dangs for a minute and a half.
If you've seen the Big Lebowski, and I assume all of you have or else we are very likely not friends -- or at least shouldn't be, there is the scene where The Dude catches a cab home from Jackie Treehorn's pad and winds up getting tossed by the cabbie for overzealous complaining about the Eagles, that's pretty much me when it comes to the Chili Peppers. I mean, I hate the effing Chili Peppers, man.
They are easily the most overrated, and over-played, band of all-time.
Which is why it pains me so much that the greatest musical discovery of the past 10 years of my life is so often tainted by not only the presence of the Chili Peppers, but the ridiculous number of times they are played. I even took into consideration that I may be overreacting a bit. Surely, it only seems like they are played too often because I despise them so much that I notice it more than the number of times Filter hits the airwaves, for example. Not so. I actually predict with a fair amount of accuracy when the next Chili Peppers or Jane's Addiction song will be played. I pretty much just guess they are mandated to play one of those two bands, in particular, in every five song block at least once. I'm rarely wrong. And I hate it each time.
There is not a single Chili Peppers song I like enough to not change the station when it comes on.
So, my six month deal is up in just five short weeks and I'm sure they'll try raising the price on me. I'm totally in love with the product excepting that whole playing-my-least-favorite-band-far-too-often thing. I just hope they give the Chili Peppers their own station like they did with Pearl Jam and Jimmy Buffet and Bruce Springsteen.
I mean, the Grateful Dead have their own station and they only ever had one radio "hit." The Chili Peppers, regretfully, had many, though all of them sucked. If they get their own station, maybe I'll get to hear some occasional Lithium on Lithium. What a novel idea.
My favorite feature, however, is easily the satellite radio. The fine folks at SiriusXM were kind enough to give me a free preview month and then offered my a six month deal at just five bucks per month. This is quite possibly the best $30 I have ever spent.
Those who know me well, or at least those who knew me in college or before are no doubt aware of my musical interestes. I often wondered when I was growing up how my dad could listen to all those oldies stations playing nothing but stuff from the 60s and 70s. I guess you kind of never really evolve after a certain age, because it's now better than 20 years since the Seattle sound exploded into the mainstream, but I am still very much stuck in the Grunge era.
Granted, there are no more chain wallets, no more flannels, no more Doc Martens, but I still cannot get enough of bands like Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden. I was never a huge Nirvana fan, but I feel like they have to be mentioned here as well. Bands like Candlebox and Blind Melon were, in my opinion, far better to listen to.
And while the early to mid 1990s were certainly defined by the bands I listed above, there were many others who came to prominence during that time who were wonderful in their own rights. That's why, when I tuned in my free XM radio this past summer, I was so overjoyed at finding channel 34 - Lithium - I channel dedicated to, in their words, "90s alternative and grunge." What could be better?
Unfortunately, I have noticed a very disturbing trend over the past month or so. It seems whomever is creating the playlists for this channel has a bit of a thing for three bands in particular, as their music comes up a disproportionate amount of time. The Smashing Pumpkins, Jane's Addiction, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers all see heavy rotation on Lithium while bands like Nirvana get relatively little airplay, especially their earlier songs. I find that particularly odd since Lithium is, in fact, a song title from Nirvana's iconic Nevermind album, an album that, along with Pearl Jam's Ten, ushered in the Grunge era and announced Seattle's presence as the new Mecca of alternative rock.
Now, I never loved the Pumpkins, but I did like a good number of their songs and while Billy Corgan's voice annoys the hell out of me sometimes, I can appreciate the music. I wish they didn't play the Pumpkins quite so often, but I can deal with it and I rarely wander off to a different channel when they come on the air.
Seriously though, there is zero excuse for the other two bands to be seeing anywhere near this much airtime. I mean, is Flea of the board of directors for SiriusXM or something?
Jane's Addictions was a short-lived, but talented band that featured guitarist Dave Navarro and frontman Perry Ferrell. I don't love Ferrell's vocals, but the he and the band had a unique sound.
Bassist Flea was a brief member of Jane's Addiction, though not a member of the original lineup. JA's success came as headliners of the first Lalapalooza Tour in 1991, years before Flea became involved. Unfortunately for the music-loving world (or at least me, as I recognize I may be alone in this opinion), Flea had gotten "big" (in quotations because he's actually very short) with the Chili Peppers, who, as best I can tell, did all of the exact same things Jane's Addiction did only not nearly so well as Jane's Addiction did them. This includes, but is not limited to, songwriting.
I mean honestly, is there a Chili Peppers song in which Anthony Kiedis does not spend at least one verse simply making incoherent mouth sounds instead of singing actual words? It's as if he wrote the song and realized he only had enough to cover about two-and-a-half minutes and needed to stretch it out to four. Instead of writing another verse, he decided just to throw in some ba-dinga-dong-dangs for a minute and a half.
If you've seen the Big Lebowski, and I assume all of you have or else we are very likely not friends -- or at least shouldn't be, there is the scene where The Dude catches a cab home from Jackie Treehorn's pad and winds up getting tossed by the cabbie for overzealous complaining about the Eagles, that's pretty much me when it comes to the Chili Peppers. I mean, I hate the effing Chili Peppers, man.
They are easily the most overrated, and over-played, band of all-time.
Which is why it pains me so much that the greatest musical discovery of the past 10 years of my life is so often tainted by not only the presence of the Chili Peppers, but the ridiculous number of times they are played. I even took into consideration that I may be overreacting a bit. Surely, it only seems like they are played too often because I despise them so much that I notice it more than the number of times Filter hits the airwaves, for example. Not so. I actually predict with a fair amount of accuracy when the next Chili Peppers or Jane's Addiction song will be played. I pretty much just guess they are mandated to play one of those two bands, in particular, in every five song block at least once. I'm rarely wrong. And I hate it each time.
There is not a single Chili Peppers song I like enough to not change the station when it comes on.
So, my six month deal is up in just five short weeks and I'm sure they'll try raising the price on me. I'm totally in love with the product excepting that whole playing-my-least-favorite-band-far-too-often thing. I just hope they give the Chili Peppers their own station like they did with Pearl Jam and Jimmy Buffet and Bruce Springsteen.
I mean, the Grateful Dead have their own station and they only ever had one radio "hit." The Chili Peppers, regretfully, had many, though all of them sucked. If they get their own station, maybe I'll get to hear some occasional Lithium on Lithium. What a novel idea.
He Is Who We Thought He Was
Yeah, about that...
So, in my last post, I extolled the virtues of Bio-dad and how he had seemingly turned a corner. Not shockingly, he has reverted to old form. I've delved into the gory details far too often on these virtual pages already and frankly, this guy isn't worth the time to devote to writing about him.
Suffice to say that we'd all (Bio-dad included) be much happier and much better off if he'd simply renounce his rights so Valerie, the kids, and I can move on as the family we already are, but with matching last names.
That's really the only way this ends well for the kids.
So, in my last post, I extolled the virtues of Bio-dad and how he had seemingly turned a corner. Not shockingly, he has reverted to old form. I've delved into the gory details far too often on these virtual pages already and frankly, this guy isn't worth the time to devote to writing about him.
Suffice to say that we'd all (Bio-dad included) be much happier and much better off if he'd simply renounce his rights so Valerie, the kids, and I can move on as the family we already are, but with matching last names.
That's really the only way this ends well for the kids.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Credit Where It's Due
I have spent a decent amount of time on these virtual pages pointing out the flaws of Bio-Dad. In the near five years that Valerie and I have been together, he has shown himself to be pretty darn close to worthless. If he's breathing, he's lying and he has made a habit out of telling the kids he's be there to pick them up, only to go days or weeks without so much as a phone call.
In fact, it's far more frequent that he doesn't show than he does. It's well past the point where we expect him to disappear; it's damn near shocking when he actually spends more than six hours a month with his kids. That is not an exaggeration.
So last week he contacted my wife and told her that he was really going to try to see the kids and spend time with them. As if it's some kind of chore. Of course, this is the same guy who also said, the last time he was going to try, that he would "give them a chance." The guy has a lot of nerve. I'm not sure what a seven and six year old have to do to be worthy of his time, but I can't imagine thinking something like that, let alone saying it. This guy is a winner.
Anyhow, so he tells her that he's planning to pick the kids up from school to spend an hour with them before he goes into work. Sure enough, to my shock, the kids didn't come home from school on Monday because he actually showed up to get them. Then Tuesday came and the same thing happened. And Wednesday. Thursday the kids came home, but he called immediately apologizing to them saying he had some errands to run and didn't make it back in time. The next day, he got them from school again.
Of course, the weekend would be different. This is a guy who actually brought them home at 1 am on a Saturday one weekend. He has prioritized his social life (drinking mostly) over his kids and he's flat out told Valerie that he has no intention of making any sacrifices in his personal life to accommodate them.
But he did, in fact, show up on Saturday and he didn't call saying he needed to go jam with his band or anything silly like that. Instead, he kept them overnight and then did the same on Sunday, taking them to school, on time, on Monday morning. If that wasn't enough, the kids spent an hour after school with him before he went to work again.
It has been just a week, but he has finally followed through on something he said he would do. I know Sebastian couldn't be happier. He idolizes that man, and I will never come close. That's not his fault and I'm not mad about it. It's just something I have to accept. The fact is that I am not the biological father of those two kids and no matter how much Bio-Dad lies or disappoints the kids, he'll always be number one.
I doubt this little phase of his will last. If he's shown anything in five years it's that he isn't terribly interested in being a dad. I hope, for Sebastian and for Lillian, that this phase becomes habit.
I just have a lot of trouble believing it will.
In fact, it's far more frequent that he doesn't show than he does. It's well past the point where we expect him to disappear; it's damn near shocking when he actually spends more than six hours a month with his kids. That is not an exaggeration.
So last week he contacted my wife and told her that he was really going to try to see the kids and spend time with them. As if it's some kind of chore. Of course, this is the same guy who also said, the last time he was going to try, that he would "give them a chance." The guy has a lot of nerve. I'm not sure what a seven and six year old have to do to be worthy of his time, but I can't imagine thinking something like that, let alone saying it. This guy is a winner.
Anyhow, so he tells her that he's planning to pick the kids up from school to spend an hour with them before he goes into work. Sure enough, to my shock, the kids didn't come home from school on Monday because he actually showed up to get them. Then Tuesday came and the same thing happened. And Wednesday. Thursday the kids came home, but he called immediately apologizing to them saying he had some errands to run and didn't make it back in time. The next day, he got them from school again.
Of course, the weekend would be different. This is a guy who actually brought them home at 1 am on a Saturday one weekend. He has prioritized his social life (drinking mostly) over his kids and he's flat out told Valerie that he has no intention of making any sacrifices in his personal life to accommodate them.
But he did, in fact, show up on Saturday and he didn't call saying he needed to go jam with his band or anything silly like that. Instead, he kept them overnight and then did the same on Sunday, taking them to school, on time, on Monday morning. If that wasn't enough, the kids spent an hour after school with him before he went to work again.
It has been just a week, but he has finally followed through on something he said he would do. I know Sebastian couldn't be happier. He idolizes that man, and I will never come close. That's not his fault and I'm not mad about it. It's just something I have to accept. The fact is that I am not the biological father of those two kids and no matter how much Bio-Dad lies or disappoints the kids, he'll always be number one.
I doubt this little phase of his will last. If he's shown anything in five years it's that he isn't terribly interested in being a dad. I hope, for Sebastian and for Lillian, that this phase becomes habit.
I just have a lot of trouble believing it will.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Here We Go Again
It wasn't all that long ago, now that I think about it, but it seems like a lifetime has passed between then and now.
I have written previously about what Dr. Suess referred to as the most useless of places: the waiting place. For a full year I was stuck there, waiting for a job at Proctor and Gamble to come through. I filled out their application and completed their online questionnaire. I waited two months to hear back from them, then went to and passed their two hours worth of tests. Another month or two passed and I was interviewed. A week later, I was informed that I'd be placed in the hiring pool, where my name would stay for up to one year. If a need was there, I would be called.
A year passed. That call never came.
It was a year that I wasted, personally and professionally speaking. I was maniacal about checking my email, badgering others in the pool (I knew of two in my same predicament) if they had heard anything. Rumors floated around about the company adding 40 jobs within a month or 60 within a year.
Nobody actually knew anything.
All I knew was that P&G was my lottery ticket. People who work there retire in their fifties. It's the kind of money that can change a life, especially for the patriarch of a struggling family of seven.
My year was up last April. In June, I lost my job at the car dealership I had worked at for the past six years. Since then I have raised my kids and looked for work that hasn't been found.
A month ago, I got an email.
Proctor and Gamble was hiring again, it said, and they had extended a special early offer to those of us who had run out of time in their pool. We would be the first group invited to apply again.
So, once again, I applied and then I completed their online questionnaire. I heard nothing back from them, not even a confirmation that they received my assessment. Not even a thanks but no thanks letter. Days into weeks into a month passed. P&G is great at leaving you twisting in wind, it would appear.
At quarter past seven tonight, I got another email. It didn't even talk about the process to this point; only directed me to see the attachment for instructions on how to schedule the test.
Once again, I'll chase the job. It's not that I necessarily even want the job at all. I love being able to raise my own kids instead of trying to find a sitter and having them raised by a stranger. But I also like the idea of getting siding on the house, getting new windows, maybe even renovating the kitchen. I like the idea of being a family that has enough money to tell my children "yes" instead of "maybe someday."
At the same time, I'm ever hopeful that my role with the network will become something more than a hobby. There are several indicators that such a dream could be reality within a matter of months, if all goes well. Imagine being able to work from home and make a decent living without having to waste a 30 minute commute or drop the kids at the sitter's house.
So, of course what will happen is that I'll wind up having to choose one over the other; it's always the way these things happen. It's like when you're single and no woman will give you the time of day, then, as soon as you're seeing someone, there are suddenly three hotties that are trying to catch your eye.
The situation will hopefully resolve itself and I'll wind up landing a job with one of the two companies. Given the speed with which P&G has moved in the past, we are still months away from anything happening there, if it ever does. Unfortunately, it's the same timetable for the network, I think.
Until then, I'll make myself comfortable, enjoy my kids, and try not to drive myself crazy wondering when, or if, I'll land one of my two potential life-changing jobs.
Sooner or later it has to be my turn to win, right?
I have written previously about what Dr. Suess referred to as the most useless of places: the waiting place. For a full year I was stuck there, waiting for a job at Proctor and Gamble to come through. I filled out their application and completed their online questionnaire. I waited two months to hear back from them, then went to and passed their two hours worth of tests. Another month or two passed and I was interviewed. A week later, I was informed that I'd be placed in the hiring pool, where my name would stay for up to one year. If a need was there, I would be called.
A year passed. That call never came.
It was a year that I wasted, personally and professionally speaking. I was maniacal about checking my email, badgering others in the pool (I knew of two in my same predicament) if they had heard anything. Rumors floated around about the company adding 40 jobs within a month or 60 within a year.
Nobody actually knew anything.
All I knew was that P&G was my lottery ticket. People who work there retire in their fifties. It's the kind of money that can change a life, especially for the patriarch of a struggling family of seven.
My year was up last April. In June, I lost my job at the car dealership I had worked at for the past six years. Since then I have raised my kids and looked for work that hasn't been found.
A month ago, I got an email.
Proctor and Gamble was hiring again, it said, and they had extended a special early offer to those of us who had run out of time in their pool. We would be the first group invited to apply again.
So, once again, I applied and then I completed their online questionnaire. I heard nothing back from them, not even a confirmation that they received my assessment. Not even a thanks but no thanks letter. Days into weeks into a month passed. P&G is great at leaving you twisting in wind, it would appear.
At quarter past seven tonight, I got another email. It didn't even talk about the process to this point; only directed me to see the attachment for instructions on how to schedule the test.
Once again, I'll chase the job. It's not that I necessarily even want the job at all. I love being able to raise my own kids instead of trying to find a sitter and having them raised by a stranger. But I also like the idea of getting siding on the house, getting new windows, maybe even renovating the kitchen. I like the idea of being a family that has enough money to tell my children "yes" instead of "maybe someday."
At the same time, I'm ever hopeful that my role with the network will become something more than a hobby. There are several indicators that such a dream could be reality within a matter of months, if all goes well. Imagine being able to work from home and make a decent living without having to waste a 30 minute commute or drop the kids at the sitter's house.
So, of course what will happen is that I'll wind up having to choose one over the other; it's always the way these things happen. It's like when you're single and no woman will give you the time of day, then, as soon as you're seeing someone, there are suddenly three hotties that are trying to catch your eye.
The situation will hopefully resolve itself and I'll wind up landing a job with one of the two companies. Given the speed with which P&G has moved in the past, we are still months away from anything happening there, if it ever does. Unfortunately, it's the same timetable for the network, I think.
Until then, I'll make myself comfortable, enjoy my kids, and try not to drive myself crazy wondering when, or if, I'll land one of my two potential life-changing jobs.
Sooner or later it has to be my turn to win, right?