Blog Daddy

I've had a number of people tell me recently that I need to dive headlong into the world of "Dad Bloggers," elbowing my way in and throwing-down what I know with how I write. I'm debating it, somewhat 'FOR' the notion of doing so. While I hesitate to dive in, having only been a dad for a year and a month now, I am also wholeheartedly devoted to Dad Life. Prior to that I started my foray into Husband Life. As I've learned that "My Life Is Best Not Lived For ME" I still believe that solitude has many benefits to the human condition/migraine. I love my wife and my son more than I can ever explain without decimating a threatening horde of illegal immigrants or whatever is evil right now. Truth is, however, I am still learning what it is to be a Dad to a son, to a walkaboutz-talkaboutz Toddler guy, and how to be a Husband to a Wife and Mother. Every day, something new. I mess up, frequently, verbally, and sometimes, gastrointestinally.

I am far from perfect, and perhaps perfect from far. But when it comes down to it, I read a few other Dad Blogs and get that deep-rooted feeling that a few of these guys are pandering to the Oprah-watchers who went to college to end up with their "Mrs." degrees. I honestly feel like many of them are just "cute"ing it up on their ad-bannered blog. If I do DadBlog, you can bet my sponsors won't be Alberto-VO5 and the Venus Razor. Probably be some sort of banned fat-burner and a prostate massager.

Being A Man isn't easy. I don't mean the biological travel with testicles and what is, technically, a penis. I am not talking about being the not-Woman in the relationship. I'm talking about Strength, Courage, Heart, Integrity, and Leadership, combined with Love, Tenderness, Intellect, and The Ability To Love-Make upwards of 16 consecutive minutes. The more I study and read and discuss the role of the Man in His Own World, the more I realize we're just people with expectations thrust upon us by society and Tyler Perry movies. How we respond to our own expectations and our own impulses and Life, now, that is totally up to us as Men. Being a Man is NOT a "role" to play, such as Dad or Husband or AdultBaby. It is the overall Being Man, who happens to be... Father, Husband, Worker, Comedian, Philosoraptor, Student of Life, and the like... which intrigues me.

So that's my quest for the moment. To DadBlog, or Not To DadBlog?
Any thoughts?

Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad


MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT

Dad About You

I had no idea that I would appreciate being a dad, nor my parents, as much as I do. Blessed I was to be raised by people who truly did the best they could with what they had to work (me)... I really put them through some sheeeit. If they knew the whole story, wow...

WOW....

I mean that in a Federal sense.

Wow.

So as I move forward in my life with the intent of being the best father I can be to my son, and maybe another kid in the future (homemade or off-shored), I'm learning a lot about the wounds we suffer as we grow. Science tells us all that before about 3 years of age our minds are incapable of hard-coding as much detail to memory as we have now. Do YOU remember all of today? No. Because it was snore-inducing, and that ridiculous excuse for a manager/man-ager/JCPenney shopper should have been kicked in the hamstring until his leg purpled up like his neck sores. And if you remember THAT, you need to get thee to a new job.

There's no real pause in parenting. I'm probably hovering too much - a Helicopter Dad - when I'm around The Boy. I like watching him, playing with him, and discussing what he did today, and what tomorrow's plans hold. (ayayaayayyaaayaaayaaaayaSHISHISHISHAYAAYAAAA! for the record) And anytime he's not in his crib asleep, you better be on your damn toes. I lost sight of him for 7 seconds tonight. Count 'em off....

I found him with lifting wiggling his hand under the toilet seat (With lock in place!) and splashing the water. I had only to hope that it was NOT yellow, and was NOT left to mellow.

There's no rest until he rests. For now. And I'm cool with that. It takes involvement and energy and intent. I can see where parents go nutlog during this time. I can see how people thrive in this pattern. I can see a bottle of Blueberry Vodka waiting for me in Salem, OR in a few weeks when I hit it for a road gig. I can see 5 years from now really missing the time when Graham "was" this age and how easy it was then.

I'm not a benevolent being in all this; I'm a human being trying to do what I think is the best I can with what I have. I didn't take parenting classes for this. I can change diapers and feed him By The Book, but everything else is gut-reaction. When it stinks, get rid of it. Choking is bad. Fire is worse. Spiders are everywhere and are all trying to kidnap the baby. So are Eastern Bloc immigrants, looking for a facial mole antidote.

I don't expect an award or some bullsh*t mug declaring ME as "The World's Greatest Dad." It's incredibly subjective as a competition that shouldn't even be taking place, and scoring is always biased to the older guys who are emotionally detached from work, and multiple kids and distant wives. All the same, there's a different kind of satisfaction in getting my son laughing than there is getting 500 audience members laughing. A bigger one. A better satisfaction unlike anything.

Then again, I haven't made a baby with Salma Hayek.

Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad


MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT

Where's The Sugar, Baby?

(secret surprise at the end!)

My son Graham turns his first year-young on Sept. 23rd. It's been a really interesting year, to say the least. His journey towards being frustrated with the public education system began in March of last year when we were told Graham's due-date was September 19th. I immediately did the right thing, got on the internet, and found that to be the day that the legendarily crooked USC Trojans were visiting the vaunted, hallowed UW Huskies in Seattle. And I prayed. I prayed to God that Graham would be born healthy, happy, and 3 days late. And God answered that prayer! As a bonus, God threw in a 16-13 win by the Huskies. Take THAT, Stephen Hawking.

In the past year I've found that a lot of people share a lot of their wisdom about raising and caring for a child. Many of whom have decades of experience without ever being a parent. Oh sure, they've kept a couple of parakeets alive through a cold winter or two. Or they are an Aunt/Uncle to a few nieces or nephews. And that's, hey, that's a solid foundation for making the childless look like an asshole by offering non-comedic parenting tips. No, we're not going to let him try wine again. Thanks for your input. Enjoy sterility.

I've also heard a number of people say that they don't like babies. Or specifically, they "hate" babies. Wow. Not that they hate MY son, just babies in general. Everyone knows the grave demands babies place on people who never interact with them, so I can see where the roots of that hate have taken hold. I never hated babies, I just was scared that I would break one. A year in, no breaks, minor fears, and all's great.

What's also side-F'ed is that some people feel that they can do things while holding a baby that somewhat endanger the baby, because a mis-hap wouldn't officially KILL the child, but it seems like it should entertain your baby. Like get them to touch a ceiling fan. Or swing them around by their tiny hands. Or hold them aloft with one hand while lighting a cigarette off the grill.

Won't KILL the baby? SHOULDN'T EVEN MAKE ME THINK THE BABY MIGHT BE EVEN A BIT UNCOMFORTABLE. There is no official Baby Police, but nobody has the right to endanger your child for their own attempt at entertaining themselves by trying to get the kid to smile near a snarling pit-boxer mix. This secret hate of babies is more bothersome than the outright hatred. Old women in a grocery store are the worst. Keep your dirty nails away from his face, Bernice.

So as Graham nears the One Year mark, we are gearing up for the Birthday Party, and a number of people have asked me what kind of cake we're getting him. My wife, foremost, has done a great job of introducing healthy food to Graham as he grows. We don't feed him sugary stuff or ice cream (maybe a tablespoon here and there) or a lot of processed food. He eats a lot of fruit, loves avocados, and digs salmon. Washes it down with a nice chug of jasmine green tea. He won't turn down a Mum-Mum, either. For a kid who eats a lot of healthy, whole food we're not going to jam a huge cake in his face so we can laugh at the mess and the sugar-rush. I think it's actually pretty cruel to jack a kid up on that stuff just for a few pictures. "Tradition" can eat my Bavarian ass. Maybe a little cupcake to have fun with, but 500 calories of sugar and fat, I just can't do that to my guy.

He'll have to wait for public school.

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Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad


MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT