So on 10/14/10, I became a father. Writing it and saying it out loud, it still seems surreal. He still didn’t even feel like mine at first. I KNEW he was, given that I saw him emerge, but he looked like a cone-headed blue skinned smurf. It’s a wonder more people don’t say....umm...are you sure he’s mine? I mean, he’s blue.
Anyways, It's not until you're actually a father, someone who is entirely responsible for another person, that is sort of takes you aback. It's daunting, knowing that for the rest of this kids life, you need to guide him every step of the way. At the same time though, there is nothing more rewarding. I can't remember a time when I've smiled or laughed this much. He brings a joy to my life that is so different and yet so perfect.
The first couple weeks are nuts. You literally can’t even cry yourself to sleep, because there is no time for sleep. Sleep is a distant memory, which you can barely comprehend in the stupor you’ve succumbed to. I think I got about 12 hours of sleep the first WEEK after he was born. My wife got even less. How she could possibly function, I have no idea. I hate sleeping, as I think it’s a waste of time. I quickly changed that tune when I found out how little sleep one could get and how close I was to the borderline of what an insomniac feels like. Insanity crept in at multiple times hoping to devour me, but somehow I survived, so I could continue to take care of my mini-me.
After about 3-4 months, things started to get much easier. My little guy was sleeping through the night and gaining some solid weight. He was recognizing and smiling at me all the time. It’s interesting how nowadays, it’s so hard to bring that much joy to anyone. You’ll never see a brighter smile than that of a baby. It’s so pure and real....there is no way to describe it. The laughing is even more so that way. When your child truly laughs, it’s with his whole being and it’s amazing at how stress relieving it can be after a hard day at work. Everything bothering you just melts away.
I have to say though, dressing a kid should be an Olympic sport. I thought my dexterous, video gaming hand/eye coordination skills would aid me in this quest of dressing my boy, but I've never seen legs move so erratically and fast! There's no rhyme or reason, no discernible pattern in hopes of trying to understand where the legs will show up next. It's like two King Cobra's on speed, striking repeatedly at invisible prey. Who knows, maybe my dexterity is helping, but I can't even fathom what it would be like if I wasn't blessed with it...let's just say it would be a massacre.....Brandon ∞, Dad ZERO. It just seems like it would make more sense to duct tape the socks to his pants. Problem SOLVED.
However, day in and day out, I think of our future, the games we’ll play (much to my wife’s dismay), the talks we’ll have, the jokes we’ll enact to torture others with...all these interactions just make me smile, of a future that I believe will be absolutely hilarious as I make this boy into the man I am, with some minor adjustments of course. (I can hear the cringing and utter fear emanating from thousands of people all of a sudden...) People say that they don’t want their kids to grow, they want to keep them in the baby stage, but I’m looking forward to enjoying each stage for what it is and what we’ll be able to do together.
I know I may sound like a sap, but you can’t really understand it until you’re a father. That crap doesn’t bother you anymore. There only thing that matters is your wife and children. The rest is just smoke in a brisk wind.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Deception's Finest - Part 1
Revan heard the door open behind him; a little bell jingled, hanging from the inside of the door's glass window. It was almost closing time and it had been a grueling day at the bakery. The people of Sage Marsh sure did love his bread.
Revan was sweeping up the last remnants of the day; the flour and yeast, a contrast to the dark slate colored floor, found in front of the large coal oven, laid in a pile at his feet. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to get into his bed, which was purposely propped up against the wall that separated his room from the oven, which conveniently gave it a nice toasty feel in these cold winter nights.
He turned around to greet the customer, as there were a couple pies and loaves of bread leftover for sale, but was met with the front door, slowly swinging itself closed. Revan thought nothing of it, thinking to himself that they must have changed their minds, as he swept up the pile of flour and yeast from the floor, dumping it into the garbage. He walked over to the front door and locked it, yawning deeply and smiling, thinking only of his warm bed to come.
Revan headed over to the oven, to blow out the couple of remaining lit candles, when suddenly, a dark form seemed to materialize out of the shadows! The dark form came closer, coming out from behind the side of the now open oven, to stand in front of Revan. Revan's mouth dropped open when he saw who this dark form was.....it was...well..HIM! The dark form's face was the spitting image of Revan! Fear crept through his body, but he wouldn't let it paralyze him. He darted for his storage closet, hoping to escape through the secret door within and when he reached it, he slammed the door shut behind him. He immediately leaped up onto the large shelves, which contained all the supplies a baker could ever need. His hand fumbled around, trying to find the lever that was designed to look like a wooden spoon handle, but instead knocked over a bag of flour, which covered the lip of the shelf and the front of his apron. He tried to pull himself up again, but his fingers kept sliding on the soft flour. He looked back to see his twin standing behind him, with a wicked looking scythe in his hand...Revan hadn't even heard the door open. Like lightning, Revan's life poured from him, as the scythe gutted him like a pig. His entrails spilled out, like some sick sausage stew, coating the floor in a pool of blood and guts.
The doppelganger picked up Revan's limp corpse, walked back into kitchen and threw the body into the large oven, which immediately started to melt the skin on its face, arms and hands...sizzling like bacon.
The doppelganger closed the oven door and began cleaning up the bloody mess. His mind reeled at what was to come; Now was time for his revenge...revenge on those that thought it wise to torture, murder and defile his race for their own personal gain. He was the new Revan now and it was time to play a game.
To be continued...
Revan was sweeping up the last remnants of the day; the flour and yeast, a contrast to the dark slate colored floor, found in front of the large coal oven, laid in a pile at his feet. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to get into his bed, which was purposely propped up against the wall that separated his room from the oven, which conveniently gave it a nice toasty feel in these cold winter nights.
He turned around to greet the customer, as there were a couple pies and loaves of bread leftover for sale, but was met with the front door, slowly swinging itself closed. Revan thought nothing of it, thinking to himself that they must have changed their minds, as he swept up the pile of flour and yeast from the floor, dumping it into the garbage. He walked over to the front door and locked it, yawning deeply and smiling, thinking only of his warm bed to come.
Revan headed over to the oven, to blow out the couple of remaining lit candles, when suddenly, a dark form seemed to materialize out of the shadows! The dark form came closer, coming out from behind the side of the now open oven, to stand in front of Revan. Revan's mouth dropped open when he saw who this dark form was.....it was...well..HIM! The dark form's face was the spitting image of Revan! Fear crept through his body, but he wouldn't let it paralyze him. He darted for his storage closet, hoping to escape through the secret door within and when he reached it, he slammed the door shut behind him. He immediately leaped up onto the large shelves, which contained all the supplies a baker could ever need. His hand fumbled around, trying to find the lever that was designed to look like a wooden spoon handle, but instead knocked over a bag of flour, which covered the lip of the shelf and the front of his apron. He tried to pull himself up again, but his fingers kept sliding on the soft flour. He looked back to see his twin standing behind him, with a wicked looking scythe in his hand...Revan hadn't even heard the door open. Like lightning, Revan's life poured from him, as the scythe gutted him like a pig. His entrails spilled out, like some sick sausage stew, coating the floor in a pool of blood and guts.
The doppelganger picked up Revan's limp corpse, walked back into kitchen and threw the body into the large oven, which immediately started to melt the skin on its face, arms and hands...sizzling like bacon.
The doppelganger closed the oven door and began cleaning up the bloody mess. His mind reeled at what was to come; Now was time for his revenge...revenge on those that thought it wise to torture, murder and defile his race for their own personal gain. He was the new Revan now and it was time to play a game.
To be continued...
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