Somebody asked me today if it was very different being a dad as opposed to before I was a dad… yes and no.
While I was out to lunch with my wife today, I spent the whole time looking at the cute little critter in her arms instead of at her. It was kind of weird. I felt a little rude. I couldn’t stop looking at my little girl. I caught myself a couple of times and my wife was pretty cool about it. She was like you can look at whoever you want, so I spent the rest of time while we were at the restaurant staring at my Clover, even though she was sleeping the whole time. I just can’t help it. It is the same with when I am at work, or driving to work, or ever not with Clover. I just can’t stop thinking about hanging out with her. So being a dad has kind of shifted my thinking from what it was before. I can’t tell if I am more excited to hang out with Kristin because she is Kristin, My beautiful wife whom I love dearly and would love to be married to forever, or because I know she has Clover with her.
This is one of the things that I was never warned about. I used to just always think about how excited I was to get home and hang out with my beautiful wife. Not the case anymore… kind of. I am excited to see my beautiful wife… and Clover. I just want to go Clover, and I am a happy guy. Another thing…I love holding her (Clover) as much as I love holding my wife’s hand. I love kissing Clover’s forehead as much as I love kissing my wife’s. I was not prepared or expecting for such a complete, and instant, love. I spent a couple months getting to know my wife before I asked her to marry me (about 5), and I have only spent about a week with Clover, but I feel pretty much the same because I am as devoted to her as much as I am devoted to my wife. And to top it all off, I am afraid that if she were in a room with like 30 other babies and I would not be able to tell her apart from the rest. I am pretty sure that I would be able to… but she is changing so fast that I think I am noticing it. Like looking at the difference between my 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th grade pictures, but over the course of a week, that and she hasn’t even said one word to me in English. But when she stares at me it is like a tractor beam, and I cant focus on anything else except for how totally precious this little girl is.
Nobody warned me about that.
Today one of my friends asked me of I was going to miss living in California, or if I was excited to get out and live somewhere else. I will miss my friends dearly; I will not miss California that much. I have over the last year been able to connect with people on a personal level more than I have in the past. I have not been anybodies boss for almost a year now. I have more friends now than I have had in longer than I can remember. It has been a real treat to be able to share my life with people in a setting aside from a business. I will miss my friends. I am, however, equally excited to give myself an opportunity to grow that I would have never had in California. I am excited about being able to reconnect with my family… not like I am a prodigal son or anything, but I have spent many of the last 15 years trying to put distance between me and my family. I have spent all of the last 5 years trying to bridge the gaps and bring close those relationships that I neglected. I am excited for the opportunity I will have to be close to my family once again. California cannot compete with that, ocean and Sombreros and all, cannot compete. Thanks for asking me the question though friend, because I hadn’t really thought about it before.
I have never in my life had anything that could wind me up faster than Clover. While in the hospital, she was a happy, healthy, nursing baby. When she came home… she was not.
The first day we came home, Clover decided that she didn’t really want to nurse. She was sick of mom’s colostrum, and was ready for mom’s milk. The only problem was that we didn’t have any of that yet. As a result, we had a screaming, not nursing, very hungry baby. I have never in my life, repeat, never in my life, felt so frustrated. I was helpless. We had everything we thought we needed, but Clover didn’t agree. I was so frustrated that I was literally about to start pulling out my hair. After a couple hours, we called a nurse. We ended up mixing up a bit of formula that the hospital sent us home with. This was never our plan, but we were desperate. It worked. Happy Clover. Kristin and I both cried when she attacked and devoured her 15mL of formula like a great white shark that found a wounded seal in the open sea. It was unreal the amount of relief that came over me.
I have never before felt both such strong emotions as well as such a fluctuation of emotions. I can completely run the spectrum of emotion which had previously (pre-Clover) been reserved specifically for life and death situations, and the resolution of said situations… and I run the whole spectrum between her not stopping crying until after I pick her up and say “It’s okay Clover, I’m here.” It is blowing my mind. I can only imagine what my wife is feeling. Just by looking at her I am thinking I can take any of what I feel and multiply it by like 15 or so and maybe that is what it is like for her… at least for the bad things… I have a hard time imagining anybody, my wife included, loving (good thing) my Clover bear more than I do. I mean I know she does, but really, how can that be possible? Anyway, side tracked… My wife is currently on an emotional rollercoaster like she has never been before because of the great change of hormones in her body. The amount has changed by over 200% inthe last four days, and the content of the amount I have no idea, but I am sure it is both quite a bit, and quite the opposite of what she had been getting her body used to over the last nine months. I at least have the luxury of a bit of hormonal balance at this time... I think… maybe that is what I should do my doctorate study on… sympathy pains, and if they change the hormonal makeup in the fathers to mimic the mothers.
Whatever. I am going to express a couple of my goals over the next couple weeks, months, and hopefully, years, as far as the idiotbook is concerned.
First, I intend to not make every post about Clover. I mean I understand that she is now as much a part of me, or at least my life, as my fingers and toes, but I am still a sentient being, and as I feel like I should be able to think about things besides my precious daughter occasionally. This book is in fact for me a record of me. I feel like anybody who knows me and has read any of this book, knows that this is me. I aim to keep the integrity of the idiocy, for my sake. Maybe this is a silly and vain goal. I am not going to delete it.
Secondly, I wish to make clear that this is for my posterity now. When I started the idiotbook, I didn’t imagine having children who would one day want to learn about their father. That has changed. I want Clover, and her siblings when they join our family, to be able to look back and know what I thought… about anything, them included. I don’t think that will be too hard, I think I just felt like I need to get that off my chest. I am kind of afraid that I may change the way I write or post just because I know that this is now officially becoming family history. Maybe it should be more like: Secondly, I understand that this will become available to my posterity now. In spite of that… whatever… it’s getting too wordy.
Another goal of mine is to record some of the little things I notice that have changed since I became a father. Not like the huge priority shifts or life altering things that I have been warned about, but the more subtle things that I did not know would happen… Like the beginning of this post… and the paragraph directly after this one.
Today when I got home from work, and after Clover was all fed she was very awake. I took her so that mom could get a few things done, like pick up the room a little and change a load of wash… all things that I would have done had they been asked… but Kristin has such a huge sense of duty, that she feels obligated to take care of everything, and as a result, seldom asks. Sometimes I wish she would, and sometimes I am glad she doesn’t, I will be honest about that. (side note for posterity) Tonight however, I wish she would have. Any way, I took Clover and we hung out. I laid her down on the bed then got in her face. I was kneeling and bent over, kind of like I was praying to the east, but instead I was staring into my precious daughter’s eyes as she lay on her back with her face maybe six inches from mine. I stayed like that for about ten minutes just staring at my pretty girl and thinking about how I should write a poem or a song about how phenomenal she makes me feel. I imagined her looking at me and thinking the same thing. I imagined her thinking about how she loves this man looking at her. She feels safe. She feels loved. She feels important. She knows that this is her place; she can come here anytime for the rest of her life and just know this is a safe place, in my presence and my care. I will take care of her needs, and fight for her wants. I am her advocate and protector. She is my inspiration… not for a poem or song yet, but for imagination… or something… maybe inspiration isn’t the right word… let me try another way to explain it… If I had a flag I could fly, just for me, for the world to see it would be Clover’s flag. She is my team, my club, I am her fan. I don’t want a new Utah hoodie for my birthday, I want a Clover hoodie.
Nobody warned me about that.
-p
PS. I think I am going to put together a lexicon… I am not sure if it is going to be part of the book, or an appendix to the book but a separate project… any suggestions on where or how to start would be appreciated…Jake…just sayin’… this would have been number four on the list of goals.
Born: December 22nd 2009 @11:28pm 7lbs 5oz, 20 1/2 inches.
Current Status: Totally awesome.
Last night my wife had our baby. She started labor at 3:30am yesterday morning, and continued through until about 11:30pm last night. Yep. You did the math right. 20 hours of labor.
When I woke up for work, at 3:45am, that morning she was on her side of the bed in the “cow” yoga position breathing in a pattern we learned a couple weeks ago a Lamaze class. I asked her if she was okay, she said yes. According to her it was just another cramp. I explained to her that she was pregnant, not menstruating, and these were not cramps, they were contractions, and cramps make me feel like something is going wrong. She said “Okay, it’s a contraction, I’m fine.” I gave her a hug and kiss and went to work.
It was raining this morning. I always like the rain. When I was kid, anytime I had an experience which resulted in a visit to the emergency room, it was always either raining already, or started raining on the way there, for as long as I can remember. For me, rainy days are good days, especially when hospitals are involved… not like a visit to hospital could make a rainy better in any case except this one, but like rainy days make hospital visits okay for me. I also realized, while talking about the weather to my boss at work, that most of my pets had their litters on rainy days. I remember one day in particular that it rained cats and dogs at my house… literally. Anyway, the rain was a good way to start my day.
While I was at work I was talking to my boss during the wee hours, before the crowd wakes up and needs coffee, about the scene before I left for work today, I explained about how the day before (Monday) Kristin went to the doctor and had no change from the week before, 1cm and 0% effaced, and therefore, I should be able to finish out the schedule this week, and maybe Clover will come on her due date, December 26th. My boss later joked that maybe since it was my wife’s’ first baby, she would be late. I explained that according to my wife’s research, only about 10% of first time babies come late, and only about 3% of all babies come on their due date. She (my boss) said “hmm.” I thought about it for a minute, and realized that there was about an 87% chance that my little Clover bear would come early… My mother in law called my store about 15 minutes later… 100% chance my Clover bear was coming early.
The phone rang literally at least 25 times. When it was finally slow enough, business wise, boss lady sent Tito to go answer the phone. I was in the Drive thru and someone hadn’t shown up for work yet so it was busy… Real busy, due to the rainy morning. Tito came out of the back and said:
“Pete, your mom (Kristin's mom) is on the phone.”
“Hang on a sec.”
“Want me to just take a message, and have you call her when we get a second?”
“Sure.”
He went back in the back and came out a minute later with the message:
“Your mom says that your wife is bleeding (it was just the plug, not a complication, but I did not know it at the time), and they are going to the hospital.”
“That is not funny Tito. That is not a funny joke. You better tell me that is not what just happened.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Not funny Tito.”
“That’s what the phone call was”
“If you are screwing with me I will break your legs Tito.”
At this point Kristi (my boss) piped in and was like “Amy will be here in 5 minutes Pete, can you hang on till she gets here?”
Sure… It still hadn’t quite hit home yet. I can keep working. It took a minute to sink in. It wasn’t until one of my customers came in and was like “No baby yet?” My reply, that made it all hit home was “I just got the call.” (repeat silently in my head: “I just got the call… I just got the call… holy crap my wife is on the way to the hospital… I just got the call… I am having a freaking baby… Clover chose this rainy morning to come say hello… I just got the call. Holy crap I need to go.”) Right when the adrenaline rush hit home and I realized that today was the day, and I needed to leave, Amy walked in. Thank you Amy for coming to work on time, even a couple minutes early so I could leave when I finally realized and acknowledged that it was time to go. I went home. I called my mom on the way to start the reverse 911 to let the planet know that today was the day. It was about 6:30 am.
We got to the hospital, and checked in around 7am. This was it. I was so pumped my face hurt from grinning ear to ear. After the first inspection, 1cm, 30%... still. Hmmm. We waited an hour and it was 1cm, 40%... time to go home. We stopped on the way home got a Big Carl combo (for me), Broccoli and cheese soup (for Kristin), and gas (so I could make it back to the hospital when it was time… I was planning on filling the tank after work… that didn’t happen.)
We went home, had some food, and then sat down to let pregnancy move forward. We watched “A Knight’s Tale.” I mean, I watched “A Knight’s Tale” and Kristin had contractions. I was just the timer and back massager, Kristin was doing most of the work. Pretty much all of the contractions were holding steady… about 2:50 apart, and about 1 minute along. At about noon, the movie got over and we started another one. I can’t even remember what it was… not important… the contractions were getting stronger, and I was having trouble paying attention to anything else besides the time. I decided that if things kept going steady as they were we would call the doctor around 1pm. At about 12:30 in between contractions Kristin grabbed my shirt with both hands and asked with tears in her eyes, “CAN WE PUHLEEEESE CALL THE DOCTOR NOW??!!” I called the doctor; we went back to the hospital.
On the car ride on the way there, Kristin said that she didn’t know if she would be able to handle it… She was planning on doing a drug free birth. I told her that if she chose to get an epidural, I would not have a problem with it. She would not be a failure, which was her main concern. I didn’t care how she had the baby, I just wanted her to have it safely, and judging by the way she was shaking and crying and in utter pain told me that this was not the safe way. After explaining to her that having a baby without getting any sort of medication would be like finding a payphone to make a phone call instead of using my cell phone, we have the technology, maybe it would be best for us to use it. She agreed to have medication, to my greatest relief.
We were readmitted around 1pm. Awesome. They didn’t even send us to triage. Sah-weet. 2cm, 90% effaced… phenomenal progress. My Clover was on her way. Amy, the nurse, not the Amy that came into work earlier, but a new one,was super good about getting the anesthesiologist in ASAP, and within half an hour of getting checked in, Kristin was a happy, baby having mommy.
Fast forward to about 3pm… 3cm… cool stuff… the water broke… meconium… not cool stuff, but not a horrible problem either… 5pm… still 3cm… borrrrring… Fast forward to about 7pm: 7cm… awesome… new Amy goes home, and Dawn is now our nurse. 9pm: the epidural is no longer effective. Mom is getting upset… 9cm… so close… but not quite… 10:30pm: call for another bolus, mom is starting to push as well as appear to be in phenomenal agony. Her mantra in between contractions and sobs is “I just want her out, please get her out, owie owie owie, I just need to be done now.” 11:00pm: call the doctor, cancel the bolus, Clover is coming out.
One of the worst things for me about this is that Kristin actually pushed harder and faster than was expected by anybody, nursing staff included. As a result I could see the tip of little Clover’s head poking out, but Kristin was not allowed to push her out yet because the doctor was not here yet. The contractions were still coming, but she had to just do little baby pushes and try to breathe through it. I was crying my eyes out. I could see Clover’s little head, my wife was in pain, and I was helpless.
The doctor came. WOOT WOOT!!! The doctor suited up, Kristin started to push, and after breath in, push, breathe in, push, breath in, push, breath in, push, and there she was. Just that fast. Seriously, the first contraction after the doctor entered the room was the only contraction the doctor got to see. I was sobbing, Nylene (Kristin’s mom) was in Kristin’s face keeping her focused (I had lost the ability to do so about an hour before that) and Paul (Kristin’s dad) was photographing the whole thing. I sent a text to my older brother Jake. I really appreciate him being there the whole time in spite of the distance between the two of us. I felt like he was there too. It was 11:28pm. I rounded it to 11:30 when I initially told everybody, but then I found out that that was the wrong thing to do, it was 11:28pm.
I lost it. I am a dad. Clover Anna Marie came to earth. She was here, and looking precious. I still cannot find the words to describe what I felt… feel… anything… I feel like it would be easier for me to explain trigonometry to a gold fish, in an understandable fashion, than explain the complete flood of emotion that came along with Clover. It was wonderful, she is wonderful, her mother is beautiful, and I am truly joyful.
Because of the meconium, Clover was running a temperature and breathing a little too fast… Kristin was also bleeding a little worse than the nursing staff felt like she should have. As a result, we did not get to leave the delivery room to our post-natal suite until about 1:45am. We got settled in, and I promptly fell asleep… facedown, half off the chair, still wearing my shoes. I was only planning on taking a small breather then going with the nurse to do a post inspection and bath with our baby. I crashed. Kristin thought it was so funny she had her mom take a picture; mind you the picture that she took was after I had rolled over and was given a blanket, and is also posted on facebook.
Clover is fine, her mother is fine, and we are good. We are expecting to be able to take our family home around dinner time on Christmas Eve.
With the story told, I would like to make a few acknowledgements. My heavenly father, thank you for providing a way for me to experience the joy of bringing one of your children into this world. Thank you for having the faith in the combined parenting skills of my wife and I, to place a perfect soul in our charge. My beautiful wife, thank you for growing Clover. Thank you for taking care of yourself and our child. Thank you for being patient with me over the last nine months, as well as trusting my judgment and respecting my opinions and requests. My parents, thank you for providing me with the love and support and example of a path one can take through life. Thank you for loving me and supporting me through my own journey even if it wasn’t at times anywhere near the journey you would have liked to see me on. It is my sincere desire to be as inspirational and as good to my child, and future children, as you have been to me. My brothers and sisters. I love you all so much. Thank you for being with me even though you weren’t with me. I felt a strong presence of family in the delivery room last night, and I know it was because you all love and care about me, and my new family. Thank you. My Everybodies, Thank you so much for the support, both spiritually and physically that you have offered over the last year in general, and the last couple days specifically. I have felt your prayers, and thoughts, and am grateful for all your presence in my life. My Clover, thank you for choosing to come to earth. Thank you for choosing me to be your dad. Thank you for doing your best to be alive and healthy, and not being sick in spite of your adventure of swimming around in your own poop for awhile inside of your mother. Among the spirits I felt in the room with me the other night, I felt some of my family who are no longer walking on the earth. Thank you for staying in touch. Thank you for providing me with such a powerful lineage, and presence on this earth. Thank you for taking care of my parents, and my parents parents, and my family, and watching over me as I begin my own small branch on our family tree.
As I write this right now, I think of putting that I could not be happier man… I don’t do it because I know that this is just the beginning. As I follow the births and lives of those near to me, I know that all I feel right now will only grow with every day I get to spend with my beautiful child… I will say that I never imagined that life could ever be so good.
Good night, I love you, thank you, merry Christmas, good night,
Have I ever told you about the guy that ordered the bacon shake in an attempt to kind of stump me as a cashier? No? Okay then, here it is.
I was working at the ol’ Arptic Cirpcle one night, when a couple of high school kids came in and one thought he was really funny, and ordered a bacon shake. I promptly called the side of bacon into the microphone, and asked if there was anything else he wanted, like his order was no different than any other I had to deal with in my job. He just kind of looked at me like he didn’t understand. I asked him again, if he wanted anything else, and he was like “Dude, I didn’t really want it man.” And I was like “Dude, than why did you order the stupid thing bro?” In the kind of tone of voice you a parent would use on a kid who had to go to the bathroom now that they were in the car in spite of the parent asking them if they had to go before they left.
Anyway, it was pretty funny to me because the kid didn’t know what to do, and his friends were all laughing at him because nothing had gone as he planned, and now he didn’t know if I was going to demand that he buy the bacon shake or what. In order to encourage him to follow through with the gag, I told him I would give it to him for free if he would eat it at the register so I could see. He refused. I then told him I would buy the shake, and give him 5 bucks if he would eat it in front of the register, and he still said no.
I explained to him about upset I was by his lack of commitment to what could have been a pretty good joke, and then proceeded to eat the bacon shake that I had one of my worker bees make to show him how it was done, and what he should do if he felt like doing something silly in the future. After a couple parting shots and laughs and whoa’s from his friends they all left without buying anything.
The shake wasn’t that bad.
I tried it once with a corndog shake, at another store, and as the customer, because the joke definitely did have potential if carried out correctly in my mind.
It worked. The expressions on the faces were priceless.
The shake… (hissing inhale like “kshhsshsss”)… not so good.
I am starting to get a little nervous about this whole everything. I am realizing that there are so many things that can go wrong. I am moving across two states, over 600 miles… with a one month old baby. No, I have not even had the baby yet… I mean I know that I am not having the baby, but my wife is, so I kind of figure myself as having the baby by proxy… as the birthing coach… I am going to be a dad… that makes it my baby too… even though my wife is having it… Ohhhh man. Less than two more weeks until the due date. Sheesh. I have been having nightmares lately… about everything that can go wrong. After everything goes wrong, or at least doesn’t go right in my dreams, I usually have a drink or smoke, in my dreams to finish off the night. *sidenote: I have not done either in over four years, since July 2005* The last time I was so stressed out I had get drunk in my dreams was when I found out I was going to lose my position at work. Sometimes I am a little shocked by how my body handles stress. When I was a teenager, I would just get an upset stomach, same with pretty much up until the last couple of years. Now I am getting drunk in my nightmares and breaking out all over the place and not sleeping and getting heartburn and all that crap. If this is growing up, I don’t know if I am ready for it… or at least my body anyway. It seems like there is giant fader in my life that has been moving from the EXCITED side to the NERVOUS side over the last nine months. I mean I am still excited, but it is getting harder and harder to ignore the parts of me that are worrying about the future, and I know that this is something that happens regularly, having a baby, but all the same… it kind of reminds me of like when I was a teenager and I would be like “You don’t understand, you can’t understand, you aren’t me, you are just my dad. You don’t even know what its like.” Hah ha, yeah right. Wow! I am so glad I got that out… This has really put it in perspective. I am excited, and I do know that it is all going to be all right. I know that my wife and I have been planning very carefully the events about to unfold in our lives; I guess it is just human of me to kind of be scared of it all. I also realize that I have not completely mastered my fatalistic imagination. Phewf. If you were here, I would say, wow this has been a really nice chat. Thanks for being there and letting me voice my concerns, and ultimately realize some of the absurdity about what is going through my mind. You’re awesome… thanks. -p
I just really love to make noise. I don’t get it. When I am at work I just bang things around. Mind you, this doesn’t happen just at work, I make noise pretty much wherever I go. Why? I don’t know… for the heck of it? Whatever. Anyway, tonight I was working with a borrowed partner, and I was just slamming something against something. (At least half of the time I am not even aware of what I am doing until somebody tells me to knock it off before I get knocked out) And I am sure she was thinking something along the lines of “What on earth is going on… is this dude special needs or something?” When I saw the look on her face I looked her in the eye and yelled “I JUST LOVE MAKING NOISE!” as I dropped whatever I was banging and walked into the back to do some dishes. While I was washing the dishes I was thinking about how I would have to put this in the book. So there it is.
I don't remember my chee chee having a hat. Shopping for a little baby grrl. Wow. So have you ever seen the little blankets with the little animal heads coming out to of the middle? It is kind of like half stuffed animal half blankie. I really want to get one for Clover, but I kind of don’t at the same time. Like… I imagine her getting attached to it, and I will have to buy like 5 of them and pack 4 away to be used as replacements when the first one gets left on the bus or whatever, but then I am also thinking what about if she doesn’t get attached to it, and ends up loving a little rubber frog bath toy that has to everywhere with her instead? And then I’m thinking about my Chee-chee. I don’t think I got him until I was a bit older. And, yeah I loved my little stuffed monkey, but I don’t think he went everywhere with me… I may have to verify this with my mom… I don’t know. Anyway… long story short, how do I shop for a precious little person that I haven’t met yet? Do I do it the same way that I shop for my little nieces and nephews? Do I just try and visualize lil’ Clover being like “Oh man dad, that is the coolest rhinoceros head blanket I have ever seen… ever… no joke.” I don’t know. Maybe I am kind of jumping the gun a little bit. I guess it depends on who you talk to, but how old until she starts having likes and dislikes? Is it just my treat to be able to dress my little punkin up however I want with no consequences? Ohhh man. Then I imagine when she is going to be like “Dad, I am going to wear my ballet princess dress… again.” I know that that time is at least 3 years(maybe?) away and then my head starts to smoke out the ears imagining what kind of jeans are going to be in vogue when she is like a teenager and what if she grows up faster than I want her to, and she starts acting like a teenager when she is only 9 and has a boyfriend and all I really want is for her to like the rhinocerous head blanket that I look at like 100 times and don't buy because what if she wants a dump truck instead? Phewf. I think that one of my character flaws is that I have to take in everything as a whole. I know that I need to just take it one step at a time, but how do I do that whe I don’t even know where the first step is?
A comment on *this post* by JLooney, after clicking the link on *this post* by TheMrRogers
As a survivor of a self inflicted, and very intentional, drug overdose: I never really talked about this. I never really listened to peoples reactions to my choice either. I just wanted an end. I only remember a few things from that night. First, when I felt that I was beyond the point of no return, I could not stop crying… because I was sad. I would miss everybody, and imagined everybody not missing me. I knew I was wrong, but it was too late. I remember my sister trying to talk to me because I could not stop crying. I wanted to tell her what was happening, but I couldn’t. I had made my choice, and I wasn’t about to fail at something else. I think that was part of it, was that I felt like a failure, like I could not get anything right. I was finished failing. I was going to succeed in spite of my hope that the failure fairy would come down and save me. I guess that’s why I wrote the note; it was my nature to create failure as an option. I also remember my oldest brother yelling the question “How could I be so selfish?” After my sister found and showed him the note I scribbled. I can’t remember how I responded. By this time I was so out of it that all I remember is just laying in the back seat of the Wagoneer on the way to the hospital, and in spite of feeling guilty, being thankful that my choice was no longer my secret. The events leading up to the night I tried to end my existence on earth… It has been a while. I was 12 years old. I remember not being clear about my belief system, and being done trying to figure out how to get along with the world. I hated school; I never really connected with my friends… I mean I had them sure, but I found out that when I shared some of the things on my mind or how I really felt, there was a disconnect. I felt alone. I was in counseling. I would go on a walk with a doctor to make my mom happy, but I never really opened up to him. I am pretty sure both he and my mom knew as much. I remember also, feeling like the teachers in school from kindergarten to grade seven had never really given me a chance. They all thought I was artistic and talented, but it seemed like was never allowed to share a table with the other kids. I was usually in a desk that faced the wall to inhibit my distractions or whatever. Whatever. It made me feel like a bad guy no matter how hard I tried… like I didn’t even get a chance to show anybody that I could be a good kid, and my teachers never did anything to show me that they thought other wise. Pretty much from day one I was a nuisance, ready or not. *sidenote* Something I have found out since then is that many of the social and emotional problems I had as a kid were directly related to ADD. I guess these perceptions and feelings are what prompted the emotional response in *this idiotbook post.* It was like the speech had validated my perspective on the world in some way. *end note* I guess I was a pretty negative kid in response to all this. I mean, not on the outside, I woke up everyday, went to school, and went home, whatever. I just didn’t ever see a point. I was mad that I wasn’t given a chance… in my opinion. I was too “crazy” for most of the kids in my social circles from church and school. My best friend was not allowed, by his parents, to come over to my house… ever. I never got a good explanation, but I could feel the reason. I have thought a few times in recent history about writing his parents a big “I think you were jerks, and you really messed me up, but I got over it” letter. I don’t think I ever will write it. Let me get back to the point. I would like to say thanks to JLooney for sharing, and unintentionally prompting me to share… Like I said, I never really listened to the responses of those around me, or even really thought about what I did. I read his article and thought to myself “strange… I felt pretty much the same emotions he did, in spite of me sitting on the other side of the table.” I remember getting a lot of cards while I was in the psyche ward of the primary children’s hospital, from all my friends, and about how they missed me and all, but I also know that I don’t even really talk to any of them anymore, and haven’t for a large number of years. There are a few that I would like to reconnect with, I know I will have the opportunity to do so pretty soon, and plan to take full advantage of it. I guess the primary thing is that I had a problem. I suffered from chemical imbalances in my body that made it so I did not see the world the same way that others did… I am talking about depression as well as the previously mentioned ADD. I felt like there was no way I could cope with the weight of the world. I felt like I could not communicate, and even when I tried, it wasn’t getting through. There was, in my mind, nothing that anybody could do to change the choices I made that day, and it was never personal for anyone but myself. I also read MrRoger’s comment. I think he has some pretty good insight. The one thing that he made me think about was that it all begins with being honest with yourself, or in my case, myself. I think that’s where it all starts. There have been times when I have never even wanted to acknowledge the things that I hate most about me, let alone share them with somebody else. That, in my opinion, is key. I appreciate those who are around me, and who do support me. I know that at times I can be pretty hard to read or predict, and as a result I guess pretty hard to support. I guess I just appreciate the positive atmosphere I have managed to surround myself with. Pretty much my peeps have faith in the faith I have in myself and that is good enough for me. I know that I have chosen life. There has only been one time since the 7th grade that I have been close to changing my choice, I was however in an artificially induced state of mind at the time, and have never allowed myself to be so close to failure at life again. I am writing this as much for me as for those who have been in situations like J, and for those who may feel like death is a better option. Let me tell you, it isn’t. I know. -p
I have been working in customer service for the past 10 years of my life more or less. I really have a problem with the holiday season. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy some of what happens during Christmas time, but seriously people. Seriously. How come the season that is supposed to bring out the best of us as Christians or Americans or humans or whatever, brings out the worst in us?
Today was a Saturday. A weekend. A day of relaxation. I typically enjoy working Saturdays just because of the crowd that comes through my store; it usually helps me feel like work isn’t so bad. Not during the holidays. It seems like everybody is in a worse mood on the weekends than on a Monday morning. What the heck?
This is the season of giving, of charity, of forgiveness, I don’t care who you are. Everybody does something this time of year even if it is as passive as enjoying the lights or the smells or the weather. Hate to break it to you, but comfort food was not invented during the summer. Why in spite of so much visible charity and crap do people have to be such jerks? Seriously, I can’t understand it.
I appreciate all the large things that happen during this time of year. At a school meeting a couple weeks ago, we raised $60 just by passing a brown paper bag around the room and explaining it was for a service mission. Cool stuff. There are Christmas trees with ornaments in our lobby at work that with Christmas requests from needy families. The requests are being filled. Way cool. I am sure I am going to be bombarded with reports over the next couple weeks saying things like “We were able to collect $xxxx for xxxxx during the month of December. Thank you everybody, good job us.” I can get behind the spirit of the report. But think about it, why does everybody have to be so epic? Why are we so focused as a general population that we have to focus on what can physically be documented as good will, as opposed to just having good will and being okay with that? I enjoy a pat on the back as much as anybody else, but c’mon.
I was cussed out today by at least four different customers, one of them a steady regular, who even went so far as to say “I only go to this store because you guys are the only ones who can do it right” after lighting me up for putting whipped cream on top her drink. I had somebody I didn’t know yelling at me demanding to talk to my manager and my district manager before she would even consider leaving the store because I was being so idiotic, especially after pointing out to her the sign, on the back of the register, which said we do not do what she was asking me to do. Today I had a 400% increase of inappropriate and disproportionate angry customers in realation to the last six months combined. Why? It was a Saturday… during the holidays. How retarded.
I went to Costco and watched an older middle age (does that make sense?)lady literally ram another middle aged lady out of her way with the cart. The rammed lady turned and flipped the rammer off. The rammer simply rammed again. Keep in mind; I was in the same traffic jam, caused by a spontaneous line forming in front of a free pizza sample, as if none of these people ever had pizza before, or at least Costco pizza, which is inherently the best because it can be purchased at Costco. (I shop there, I like it, I appreciate the values and offers and everything,but I think people can get a bit carried away sometimes) Anyway, the rammed lady just stood there for a minute, then said “F*** lady, do you want a piece or what?” and while stomping off. It blew my mind. These were literally grandmas, (I saw representatives from all 3 generations of the rammed ladies family in the same line) duking it out over waiting for 25 seconds to get from point A to point B and a small sample of pepperoni freaking pizza. holy crap.
Anyway, the point of this is: it would be nice if everybody did, but you do not need to buy everything on sale so you can give it all away to make other people happy to feel the holiday spirit. Just be polite. Do what you do every other time of year. Don’t be a jerk. Don’t be epic. Just be patient. In fact, enjoy yourself. Have fun waiting in line. Understand that you are making a choice to put yourself in these situations, don’t make everybody else pay because it wasn’t what you imagined. Please. Please. Please. If all else fails, be glad you are alive. That has to mean something doesn’t it? Team humanity? C’mon guys, same team. Don’t let the holidays ruin it. Don’t let the only happy moments and simple kindnesses of the season be stolen away to only exist in the movies that are so characteristic of this season. Live them. Make your own happy movies and quirky and therefore memorable shopping trips. Don’t leave it to someone else. This one starts with you.
My favorite part of this picture is that I managed to get the construction sign saying please drive safely, which I was by the way. Phewf. I totally spilled the beans. It was on purpose, but the beans have been spilt. The shroud of secrecy has been lifted. We are moving to SaltLake. I put my transfer papers in today. Funny thing about the migration back to Zion (zy-un, not zy-on), I never really planned on going back. When I left, I left, and that was that. I mean I didn’t really have a plan for anything, but of all the plans I didn’t really have, moving back to the 801 was never even conceivable.Some of the places I have imagined living since leaving include Nevada, California, Alaska, Virginia, New York, Australia and Arizona.
I think I have changed a bit since I left though. I know that I did not really value the concept of family. I have since then changed my opinion somewhat about what is valuable and what is not as far as associations go. The fact that I will be close to my family is one of the many driving factors for the move. I am kind of pumped about the idea of having barbecues with my siblings, and woot woot, our kids. Yep. I am going to be dad and Uncle Pete. I remember liking my uncles when I was growing up. I mean I still do and all, but I have some pretty vivid memories of things like Thanksgiving and family reunions and other parties when I was still a little kid. I am pretty pumped about being one of those cool memories for my sibling’s kids.
I am excited about experiencing familiar surroundings with a different mindset. I am not going to be visiting many of my old haunts, and the ones I do visit will be with a different goal in mind. I am curious to see what sort of emotions I experience as I reacquaint myself with my hometown.
I am going to miss San Diego… kind of… I think I am going to miss the people I have met more than the city. It has been a rough couple months because I have finally started making friends and now that I am developing a social life outside of my marriage I am leaving it all behind. I have been part of a management team for most of my tenure in SD, and as a result I have not really been able to get too close with pretty much everybody that I work with outside of work. I have worked on breaking down my isolated mentality over the last year since the layoff, and have had some pretty cool results. I am not excited about starting all over.
Anyway… our family will be moving to Utah in February. Cool. Not as cool Jason, but still pretty cool. I have many thoughts on the subject, but am having trouble organizing them. I am sure there will be plenty more to read on this subject over the next month or so.
