Several months ago, one of my friends posted something about sleep regression on Facebook, as it related to her infant. She graduated from the newborn stage, and her baby had finally begun to sleep with some degree of regularity. Then inexplicably, the baby started being a pain in the ass again. When I read about that, part of me sympathized, but a bigger part of me was relieved that young Nyles had seemingly evaded that dreaded part of being an infant. Clearly the joke was on my wife and me.
The past couple of weeks, the wife and I have abandoned swaddling and begun sleep training young Nyles all at the same time. His post daycare routine is as follows:
5-6pm: Eat, be happy, spit food on Mommy and Daddy
6-7: Have a violent mood swing from happy to evil, cheer up momentarily in the bathtub, then revert to angry man
7- 7:30: Drink a warm bottle, go to sleep, cry, sleep, cry, sleep, cry once more, then sleep
11-12a: whimper, toss and turn, fool Mommy and Daddy into thinking you're going to wake up, and then go back to sleep
2am: Wake up and scream bloody murder
3am: See 2am
4am: See 2am
5am: Trick Mommy into letting you in the bed (Daddy has given up sleep at this point and a)goes to workout or b) goes to work)
530am: Fall into a DEEP sleep until 6:45, when Mommy is already awake and pissed the f**k off
6:45am: Wake up smiling, joking and looking cute, just completely shunning the fact that he kept his parents up all night
The wife and I are sleep deprived, cranky, too tired for (regular) sex, and if this goes on, someone at our respective jobs will feel our wrath. As angry as this little boy makes me, when someone at work asks me how Nyles is doing, I smile and instantly start bragging about him, like he didn't cause me hell the night before. It's as if he's strong in the ways of the Force, and I have no power over him. I love him, but I'm not against crushing Ambien tablets in his bottle...
This song you see below has become my guilty pleasure song of the month. I've always appreciated Usher, but his recent material is boring. I don't like Rick Ross all that much, because he's just an average lyricist most of the time. But put them together, and for some mysterious reason I'm hooked...
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
About three weeks ago I was on Facebook, when I noticed that one of my "Suggested friends" was an ex-girlfriend of mine from 2005. I ignored it at first, then I decided to click her page to see what she was up to. Instead of seeing pictures, corny status messages and a bunch of superfluous stuff that litters the facebook pages of everyone (present company excluded of course), I saw something much different.
The facebook had been started by her mother, because the ex died in her sleep back on June 3rd at age 43. Her mother wanted to start the page to keep her memory alive via her friends and family. I hadn't spoken to her in awhile, but her death still gave me pause for a few reasons.
One, it is always a little weird and creepy when someone you knew and lost touch with passes away. You expect your exes to disappear to move on, not die. Two, I remember breaking up with this ex back in April of 2005, because I had met another woman who I felt was way more promising. That promising woman ended up breaking it off with me in June of 2005, being my friend again in 2006, and my wife in 2010.
**sidebar*** My ex was a born again virgin who hadn't had sex in over 15 years, and initially I didn't care because she was cool people, and it was October, which meant football season had just started. While I prefer not to, I can go without sex during football season. But when the spring came around, and she still didn't seem to be giving it up, I became antsy. She went on a cruise with her girls for 10 days. On the fourth day she was gone, I met a girl (now my wife). On the sixth day she was gone, she called me to say hi, and I told her it was over, and then her phone cut off because she was on a cruise. On the 9th day she was gone I got a letter in the mail that she had written on the 1st day of her cruise, telling me how she was ready to "give it up". I felt terrible. **sidebar off**
I found it weird that in the midst of this beautiful life I have, I happened to read about the death of an ex who I dumped two days after meeting my wife. That is weird, which is why I didn't write about this until almost an entire month later. 90% of the time, you want your exes to go away forever, and you really don't care whether you speak to them again or not. They can find out about you through mutual friends, facebook or by reading your blog once or twice a month, but you'd rather not deal with them directly. But you really don't expect to read about their untimely demise..and definitely not at the age of 43.
Not trying to be morbid here, this was just on my mind today. The wife and I talked about this when it first happened, I'm just now getting around to writing it...
The facebook had been started by her mother, because the ex died in her sleep back on June 3rd at age 43. Her mother wanted to start the page to keep her memory alive via her friends and family. I hadn't spoken to her in awhile, but her death still gave me pause for a few reasons.
One, it is always a little weird and creepy when someone you knew and lost touch with passes away. You expect your exes to disappear to move on, not die. Two, I remember breaking up with this ex back in April of 2005, because I had met another woman who I felt was way more promising. That promising woman ended up breaking it off with me in June of 2005, being my friend again in 2006, and my wife in 2010.
**sidebar*** My ex was a born again virgin who hadn't had sex in over 15 years, and initially I didn't care because she was cool people, and it was October, which meant football season had just started. While I prefer not to, I can go without sex during football season. But when the spring came around, and she still didn't seem to be giving it up, I became antsy. She went on a cruise with her girls for 10 days. On the fourth day she was gone, I met a girl (now my wife). On the sixth day she was gone, she called me to say hi, and I told her it was over, and then her phone cut off because she was on a cruise. On the 9th day she was gone I got a letter in the mail that she had written on the 1st day of her cruise, telling me how she was ready to "give it up". I felt terrible. **sidebar off**
I found it weird that in the midst of this beautiful life I have, I happened to read about the death of an ex who I dumped two days after meeting my wife. That is weird, which is why I didn't write about this until almost an entire month later. 90% of the time, you want your exes to go away forever, and you really don't care whether you speak to them again or not. They can find out about you through mutual friends, facebook or by reading your blog once or twice a month, but you'd rather not deal with them directly. But you really don't expect to read about their untimely demise..and definitely not at the age of 43.
Not trying to be morbid here, this was just on my mind today. The wife and I talked about this when it first happened, I'm just now getting around to writing it...
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Friday, August 17, 2012
I've had plenty of jobs where the concept of working home was a complete joke. I would have my laptop out for work, but it was entirely possible that I'd also have a glass of wine on hand, ESPN on tv, and music blaring through the speakers. 20% of me was working, 75% of me was chillin', and 5% of me was lost (as is always the case).
This current job takes my previous notion of working from home, and it shoves it all the way in my face. I'm at home now, but I feel like I am right in the office. People are sending me work IMs, I'm answering emails, I'm writing reports, making calculations, I'm eating onions and spotting dimes. I sat down to work at 8am, and I looked up, and it is now almost 10am, and there's still plenty of work to be done (which is why I'm blogging right now). Complaining about work is like complaining about fantasy sports..no one cares and no one has sympathy for you. I'm a bit overwhelmed but I am fully aware of the alternative, and I have no desire to be without employment. So I power thru.
This really wasn't worthy of an entry, but sometimes it feels better to vent. I thank you for reading. Plus no one wants to read about the terrible things happening in Nyles' diapers this week.
This current job takes my previous notion of working from home, and it shoves it all the way in my face. I'm at home now, but I feel like I am right in the office. People are sending me work IMs, I'm answering emails, I'm writing reports, making calculations, I'm eating onions and spotting dimes. I sat down to work at 8am, and I looked up, and it is now almost 10am, and there's still plenty of work to be done (which is why I'm blogging right now). Complaining about work is like complaining about fantasy sports..no one cares and no one has sympathy for you. I'm a bit overwhelmed but I am fully aware of the alternative, and I have no desire to be without employment. So I power thru.
This really wasn't worthy of an entry, but sometimes it feels better to vent. I thank you for reading. Plus no one wants to read about the terrible things happening in Nyles' diapers this week.
Monday, August 13, 2012
This past weekend I had the pleasure of visiting Ohio for my grandmother's 80th birthday and my uncle's marriage--on the same day. I saw lots of family, got lots of love, witnessed lots of questionable wedding attire choices, and I had an overall great time. It was also my first road trip with the wife and young Nyles, and to say the little fella tested our patience would be a supreme understatement.
First off, in order to leave D.C., we had to pack the car with our entire house. A portable crib, bottles, diapers, formula, a stroller, and this was before we got to our own stuff in the damn car. Then, the drive from D.C. to Cleveland usually takes me around 5 and a half hours with one or two stops at the most, but with a seven and a half month old, that just isn't possible. My trip took seven and a half hours there, and seven hours home, and I couldn't even complain about it. As my uncle said, "With infants you have to take your nice, efficient plans and throw them out of the window. And that's exactly what I did.
Anyway, one of the more depressing sights this weekend was my grandmother--specifically the effects dementia is starting to have on her. The last time I saw her was during her husband's funeral, and I couldn't see the dementia, because sadness seemed to be the prevailing emotion. But this weekend, there was nothing that could hide the dementia. Not even her birthday and the marriage of her son could hide what I saw. At one point, I saw her open the fridge, then open about 6 cupboards, close them all, open them up again, then scratch her head for about 5-7 minutes. Finally, I put her and the situation out of its misery, and I asked her what she was looking for, and she said she had no clue.
This went on the entire weekend. There were moments of clarity, like when she told me about her first husband (my grandfather) leaving her for a white woman in 1962 (this wouldn't be a big deal today, but when a black man left his black wife for a white woman in the heart of the Civil Rights movement, that took balls as big as church bells). But there were more moments of her rambling, talking about things that made no sense, and getting caught mid-sentence or mid-thought without knowing how to finish. It was sad to see, but millions of elders (and their family members) are going through this. My other grandmother battled this and cancer for about six months, and then she said enough is enough, and passed away on her own terms. Things don't always get tied in a neat little bow like that, but I wish there was a way to avoid this. Not to mention, this is taking a toll on my mother, who has taken on the yeoman
task of trying to take care of her (along with a caregiver, who is there while my mother works).
I'm stopping now, because this shit is absolutely depressing, but I wanted to at least get a partial thought out on the subject. I'll end on a high note
First off, in order to leave D.C., we had to pack the car with our entire house. A portable crib, bottles, diapers, formula, a stroller, and this was before we got to our own stuff in the damn car. Then, the drive from D.C. to Cleveland usually takes me around 5 and a half hours with one or two stops at the most, but with a seven and a half month old, that just isn't possible. My trip took seven and a half hours there, and seven hours home, and I couldn't even complain about it. As my uncle said, "With infants you have to take your nice, efficient plans and throw them out of the window. And that's exactly what I did.
Anyway, one of the more depressing sights this weekend was my grandmother--specifically the effects dementia is starting to have on her. The last time I saw her was during her husband's funeral, and I couldn't see the dementia, because sadness seemed to be the prevailing emotion. But this weekend, there was nothing that could hide the dementia. Not even her birthday and the marriage of her son could hide what I saw. At one point, I saw her open the fridge, then open about 6 cupboards, close them all, open them up again, then scratch her head for about 5-7 minutes. Finally, I put her and the situation out of its misery, and I asked her what she was looking for, and she said she had no clue.
This went on the entire weekend. There were moments of clarity, like when she told me about her first husband (my grandfather) leaving her for a white woman in 1962 (this wouldn't be a big deal today, but when a black man left his black wife for a white woman in the heart of the Civil Rights movement, that took balls as big as church bells). But there were more moments of her rambling, talking about things that made no sense, and getting caught mid-sentence or mid-thought without knowing how to finish. It was sad to see, but millions of elders (and their family members) are going through this. My other grandmother battled this and cancer for about six months, and then she said enough is enough, and passed away on her own terms. Things don't always get tied in a neat little bow like that, but I wish there was a way to avoid this. Not to mention, this is taking a toll on my mother, who has taken on the yeoman
task of trying to take care of her (along with a caregiver, who is there while my mother works).
I'm stopping now, because this shit is absolutely depressing, but I wanted to at least get a partial thought out on the subject. I'll end on a high note
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
Tuesday, August 07, 2012
So last Thursday night, I worked a little over a 12-hour day, and I decided that I deserved a nice bottle of red wine. My father-in-law was staying with me still, so I was a little leery about him seeing me drink (I'm lying), especially since he's been sober for quite some time, but I powered thru that pseudo-guilt and bought the wine. I was getting ready to venture back in the house, when I remembered that the wife requested that I buy some formula for young Nyles, so I headed into Rite-Aid to do just that.
***Sidebar*** I can readily admit that there is a bit of guilt involved when you buy wine AND baby formula on the same run. The wine cost me $15 dollars, the formula cost me $21, and part of me thought that I should be spending that money on TWO bottles of formula, instead of wine and formula. Then I went to the-grown-ups-need-to-have-fun-too card that adults use to rationalize bad behavior and child neglect, and I bought that f**king wine with no regret with one caveat. Usually I shun the purchase of the bag when I buy wine because a) the liquor store is right across the street from my house (and I don't live in a "black" neighborhood, so picture that. and b)bags are five cents. This time I bought a bag, because I couldn't be seen purchasing wine with a bottle in my hand..that's just bad business right? right.***sidebar off**
So as I was looking for formula, I saw this familiar looking older man bending over and looking at dog food. I stared for a few seconds and wondered if it was who I thought it was, but I said nah, and kept walking. I went to pick up some deodorant, then I headed to the counter, and the old man was in front of me once again, and THIS time I knew exactly who it was. Former Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld. We had the following conversation:
Me: Mr. Rumsfeld?
Him: Yes sir
Me: I don't want to bother you and ask for a picture, but then again, there's no way in hell anyone will believe me if I say I saw you in a drugstore buying dog food
**big hearty laughter by both of us..more him though***
Him: Ah its ok
Me: No that's ok, I just wanted to say hello and shake your hand
Him: Oh ok
**We shake hands**
Me: Take care sir
Of course five minutes later, these two girls begged him for a picture, and he played along, smiled and took the picture (with dog food in his hand), but I could tell he didn't like it. Now I don't agree with the man's politics, and I'm sure he's masterminded some things that would downright piss me off (and vice versa). But this was a man who held a pretty political office, and that alone commands my respect.
I should have taken a picture...anyway, more Nyles:
***Sidebar*** I can readily admit that there is a bit of guilt involved when you buy wine AND baby formula on the same run. The wine cost me $15 dollars, the formula cost me $21, and part of me thought that I should be spending that money on TWO bottles of formula, instead of wine and formula. Then I went to the-grown-ups-need-to-have-fun-too card that adults use to rationalize bad behavior and child neglect, and I bought that f**king wine with no regret with one caveat. Usually I shun the purchase of the bag when I buy wine because a) the liquor store is right across the street from my house (and I don't live in a "black" neighborhood, so picture that. and b)bags are five cents. This time I bought a bag, because I couldn't be seen purchasing wine with a bottle in my hand..that's just bad business right? right.***sidebar off**
So as I was looking for formula, I saw this familiar looking older man bending over and looking at dog food. I stared for a few seconds and wondered if it was who I thought it was, but I said nah, and kept walking. I went to pick up some deodorant, then I headed to the counter, and the old man was in front of me once again, and THIS time I knew exactly who it was. Former Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld. We had the following conversation:
Me: Mr. Rumsfeld?
Him: Yes sir
Me: I don't want to bother you and ask for a picture, but then again, there's no way in hell anyone will believe me if I say I saw you in a drugstore buying dog food
**big hearty laughter by both of us..more him though***
Him: Ah its ok
Me: No that's ok, I just wanted to say hello and shake your hand
Him: Oh ok
**We shake hands**
Me: Take care sir
Of course five minutes later, these two girls begged him for a picture, and he played along, smiled and took the picture (with dog food in his hand), but I could tell he didn't like it. Now I don't agree with the man's politics, and I'm sure he's masterminded some things that would downright piss me off (and vice versa). But this was a man who held a pretty political office, and that alone commands my respect.
I should have taken a picture...anyway, more Nyles:
Thursday, August 02, 2012
Yes I realize this video is 55 minutes long, and yes I'm aware that youtube may not let you watch it from my blog, because they want you to go their site directly. But this is a great documentary on Stevie Wonder's "Hotter Than July" album (back when you could call them albums without dating yourself). This wasn't Stevie's best album, but it had one of my favorite songs on there entitled "All I Do" (Mr. Michael Jackson sings background on it). But I digess..watch the video please:
Monday, July 30, 2012
What Love Is..
Top of the muffin TO YOU!!
Love is when you sit in your living room and watch the Fox Show, "Hell's Kitchen", with your wife and father-in-law. Sure you just poured a glass of wine so you could watch the Olympic Games, which are nice enough to come into Your life every four years for two entertaining weeks. And sure you told your wife to "go ahead" when she asked if you could turn the channel, and sure your black ass should have been honest and said, "hells no!". But because you love your wife, and you (allegedly) have enough manners to relinquish control of the remote and the television to your hard-working wife and your father-in-law (who is a guest at your apartment watching Nyles because daycare is closed this week). And yes you agreed to change the channel even though you and your father-in-law seemed to be having a bang-up time watching synchronized male diving (don't judge me) before the wife changed the channel. But because there is love, you shut the hell up, you take it and you don't complain (but you do write about it, because writing is what you do). You also know (and strongly urge) that your wife will put out like a champ sometime in the near future to right this horrible wrong..
And now, I will end on a high note..Nyles got his first high chair yesterday...
Love is when you sit in your living room and watch the Fox Show, "Hell's Kitchen", with your wife and father-in-law. Sure you just poured a glass of wine so you could watch the Olympic Games, which are nice enough to come into Your life every four years for two entertaining weeks. And sure you told your wife to "go ahead" when she asked if you could turn the channel, and sure your black ass should have been honest and said, "hells no!". But because you love your wife, and you (allegedly) have enough manners to relinquish control of the remote and the television to your hard-working wife and your father-in-law (who is a guest at your apartment watching Nyles because daycare is closed this week). And yes you agreed to change the channel even though you and your father-in-law seemed to be having a bang-up time watching synchronized male diving (don't judge me) before the wife changed the channel. But because there is love, you shut the hell up, you take it and you don't complain (but you do write about it, because writing is what you do). You also know (and strongly urge) that your wife will put out like a champ sometime in the near future to right this horrible wrong..
And now, I will end on a high note..Nyles got his first high chair yesterday...
Thursday, July 26, 2012
So last night, my boss asked me to put something together in Microsoft Visio, which is a program that I have extremely limited experience with (so limited in fact, I don't even try to be slick and put it on my resume as something I'm "proficient" in). If anyone else I work with asked me to complete this task, I would have hit them with the Double XX Posse logic. But since my boss asked me to do it, and since she needed it done before I left last night to deliver to HER boss, I foolishly said I could handle it. That was at 4pm.
Four hours later I completed the task, and luckily for me, my boss was working late anyway so it was no big deal. Around 7 or so, I went to her office and assured her I was still working, but it was going slow, and she gave me this look like that said, "You're still working on this?" (if you watch The Office, think of the time when Charles asked Jim why he was working so hard on the rundown):
When I got home, young Nyles was sleep, my wife fought sleep long enough to imbibe with me for 30 minutes or so, and then she crashed too. Around 11:45 I finally went to sleep after a 14-hour workday, and then the sleep gods decided to f**k me by waking me up at 3:30am. The wife and son were fast asleep, and I was laying awake watching woman's soccer for two and a half hours. I have little to no patience today, which means it is entirely possible that I will be asked to tackle another impossible task on just 3 hours sleep. I'm not complaining, I'm merely giving a three-paragraph long excuse for me taking a nap in my office and/or leaving early today is definitely an option.
Four hours later I completed the task, and luckily for me, my boss was working late anyway so it was no big deal. Around 7 or so, I went to her office and assured her I was still working, but it was going slow, and she gave me this look like that said, "You're still working on this?" (if you watch The Office, think of the time when Charles asked Jim why he was working so hard on the rundown):
Charles: You started on that rundown yet? [Looks at Jim's screen.]Anyway, I told my boss that I was powering through, and I could still handle the task at hand. But man I was struggling, and everyone who I called on for help either a) blew me off b) didn't know what Vision was or c)was unavailable (as an aside, another one of my friends told me later, that Visio was for lames, and it's all Mac-related design programs..she can kiss my ass). I felt like a jackass for biting off more than I could chew, but I felt a bit of vindication when I finally got it done to her liking (with some help from a lone IT guy who was still here too).
Jim: Oh, this is just something I'm taking a break with.
Charles: Oh.
Jim: I will get back to the rundown, uh, right now.
Charles: Okay, great.
Jim: Hey you know what? Do you have a rundown that I could take a look at, just so I know what type of rundown you're looking for ?
Charles: Just keep it simple.
Jim: Keeping it simple -that's what I'm doing. But I am working hard on this one. Real hard.
Charles: You're working hard? On this?
Jim: No. Not too hard. Not harder than I should.
Charles: Right. I mean why work harder than you should.
Jim: No, I...
When I got home, young Nyles was sleep, my wife fought sleep long enough to imbibe with me for 30 minutes or so, and then she crashed too. Around 11:45 I finally went to sleep after a 14-hour workday, and then the sleep gods decided to f**k me by waking me up at 3:30am. The wife and son were fast asleep, and I was laying awake watching woman's soccer for two and a half hours. I have little to no patience today, which means it is entirely possible that I will be asked to tackle another impossible task on just 3 hours sleep. I'm not complaining, I'm merely giving a three-paragraph long excuse for me taking a nap in my office and/or leaving early today is definitely an option.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
First of all, I would love if you would read the article that my colleagues and I slaved over by clicking right here.
Second, I would like to send a special, special shoutout to young Nyles who has given my wife and I his cold for the second time in a little over a month. I'm learning now that when your child is sick, short of living in a bubble and wearing masks, it is impossible to avoid getting that same cold..with one caveat. The cold my son has involves intermittent sneezing and coughing and mild congestion. Once it morphs into an adult cold, it picks up strength like a hurricane in the Atlantic, and it hits harder, faster and with way more impact. I stayed home with the little fella yesterday, and today I needed to stay home, but I'm back at work. So the big middle finger to that kid who gave the cold to my son.
And thirdly, my oldest son has started rapping, and he's dropping curse words and "N" words like he's Kool G Rap. His mother and stepfather don't seem to mind, which makes me look like the villain in this scenario..which is perfectly fine with me, but still. A 14 year old high school kid should not be posting his profane rhymes on facebook, soundcloud or anywhere, he should be trying to graduate and go to college. That's just my opinion, but it doesn't seem to be shared by the other adults his life, which is infuriating to say the least. I would post the link to the page with his music on there, but I can't do that right now...I'm not spreading that filth. I can't decide whether I'm offended as a parent or a fan of rap music..but I am offended. Clearly he's influenced by the cadences and rhymes of Drake, Lil Wayne and Rick Ross. If you were to scan my ipod, you may see 5-10 songs combined from those artists. I respect (kind of) their work, but I'm not a big enough fan to by their entire album. Plus they aren't talking about anything worth getting excited about.
Anyway, my son did record his last three songs profanity and "n" word free, so maybe I'm getting through to him. I know he curses and all that when I'm not around, which is fine (kind of). But you CANNOT put that b.s. up on the internets for all to see, because it stays with you...like herpes or Bob.
Second, I would like to send a special, special shoutout to young Nyles who has given my wife and I his cold for the second time in a little over a month. I'm learning now that when your child is sick, short of living in a bubble and wearing masks, it is impossible to avoid getting that same cold..with one caveat. The cold my son has involves intermittent sneezing and coughing and mild congestion. Once it morphs into an adult cold, it picks up strength like a hurricane in the Atlantic, and it hits harder, faster and with way more impact. I stayed home with the little fella yesterday, and today I needed to stay home, but I'm back at work. So the big middle finger to that kid who gave the cold to my son.
And thirdly, my oldest son has started rapping, and he's dropping curse words and "N" words like he's Kool G Rap. His mother and stepfather don't seem to mind, which makes me look like the villain in this scenario..which is perfectly fine with me, but still. A 14 year old high school kid should not be posting his profane rhymes on facebook, soundcloud or anywhere, he should be trying to graduate and go to college. That's just my opinion, but it doesn't seem to be shared by the other adults his life, which is infuriating to say the least. I would post the link to the page with his music on there, but I can't do that right now...I'm not spreading that filth. I can't decide whether I'm offended as a parent or a fan of rap music..but I am offended. Clearly he's influenced by the cadences and rhymes of Drake, Lil Wayne and Rick Ross. If you were to scan my ipod, you may see 5-10 songs combined from those artists. I respect (kind of) their work, but I'm not a big enough fan to by their entire album. Plus they aren't talking about anything worth getting excited about.
Anyway, my son did record his last three songs profanity and "n" word free, so maybe I'm getting through to him. I know he curses and all that when I'm not around, which is fine (kind of). But you CANNOT put that b.s. up on the internets for all to see, because it stays with you...like herpes or Bob.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Thanks to my main man John for finding this audio clip about introverts
And shoutout to Nyles for this:
And shoutout to Nyles for this:
Thursday, July 19, 2012
So today I am home with young Nyles, thanks to a kid at daycare who made it their business to give my son some type of bug. He's congested, he's coughing, he has a low-grade fever, and in the 2 hours since his mother left, he has kicked my monkey ass. He's clingy, he's cranky, and he's looking at me like "Oh you thought you were going to work from home today buddy? Hells no!".
Speaking of working from home, the new job is challenging but in a good way. When you're new, you have to delicately toe that balance between learning the ropes and being assertive, and I think I've navigated that successfully. I'm the only black man in the office, which has never happened since I started working at 23. Virtually every race is represented in my office (including some black women), but there are no black men--and it isn't even a big deal, which is all the more surprising. Unlike my last office, where my boss and others seemed to be preoccupied with everything BUT work, my new colleagues are all about work, production, proposals, etc. In essence (and ebony), I made the right decision...plus I get to be involved with the writing, editing and organization of proposals which is what I've wanted to do for a minute now.
But the bad part of my decision to leave my old office involved the commute. My commute has gone from a 10 minute walk to a 60-75 minute train/bus ride, which tests my patience in every way you can imagine. People get in my face on the train, the crazies invade my personal space, and the train seems to be delayed daily. And the sad part is, if I drove back and forth, my commute would be even longer--that's the bad part about living in DC and working in Northern Virginia. But that's a minor complaint, other than that I'm happy. Why does this feel like I'm typing an email to a penpal in jail? Why, because I'm rusty that's why...
As I'm typing this email, I just got text from wife that read, "I'm fairly certain they didn't do it in his bottom though". In context, her text makes perfect sense because we were trying to figure out how Nyles' daycare took his temperature yesterday. Out of context, it looks an email from the Jerry Sandusky files....
Too soon?
I haven't bought the Nas, but everyone tells me it is epic..
Speaking of working from home, the new job is challenging but in a good way. When you're new, you have to delicately toe that balance between learning the ropes and being assertive, and I think I've navigated that successfully. I'm the only black man in the office, which has never happened since I started working at 23. Virtually every race is represented in my office (including some black women), but there are no black men--and it isn't even a big deal, which is all the more surprising. Unlike my last office, where my boss and others seemed to be preoccupied with everything BUT work, my new colleagues are all about work, production, proposals, etc. In essence (and ebony), I made the right decision...plus I get to be involved with the writing, editing and organization of proposals which is what I've wanted to do for a minute now.
But the bad part of my decision to leave my old office involved the commute. My commute has gone from a 10 minute walk to a 60-75 minute train/bus ride, which tests my patience in every way you can imagine. People get in my face on the train, the crazies invade my personal space, and the train seems to be delayed daily. And the sad part is, if I drove back and forth, my commute would be even longer--that's the bad part about living in DC and working in Northern Virginia. But that's a minor complaint, other than that I'm happy. Why does this feel like I'm typing an email to a penpal in jail? Why, because I'm rusty that's why...
As I'm typing this email, I just got text from wife that read, "I'm fairly certain they didn't do it in his bottom though". In context, her text makes perfect sense because we were trying to figure out how Nyles' daycare took his temperature yesterday. Out of context, it looks an email from the Jerry Sandusky files....
Too soon?
I haven't bought the Nas, but everyone tells me it is epic..
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Ok so I'm back after a brief hiatus. My friend Janelle asked me about the blog yesterday as did my brother. My main man Sabin asked about it today, and the wife constantly asks me. To be honest, I actually have had things to say over the past few weeks, I just brushed them aside. Not to mention, if I'm being honest with myself, writers write no matter what, no matter how difficult it is, and no matter who is or isn't reading. I fancy myself a writer, so I'm must put my head down and power through any slump that may come (u)pon me.
That's all for now....
Oh and guess who's saying da-da now?
That's all for now....
Oh and guess who's saying da-da now?
Saturday, June 23, 2012
When I started this blog six years ago, I was just a few months into my job at the Department of Justice, and I had lots of free time. And this past Friday, several promotions later (less free time too), I worked my last day at that job. Partly because my boss is a jackass, partly because other opportunities came about, and partly because six years was enough, I decided to take another job with more money--however I'm not going to mention this new place of employment because Google is a powerful thing. I can no longer walk to work which sucks, but the piece/peace of mind I will have at the new spot, will make it all worth. At least that's what I'm telling myself.
When I got that job I was basically single, I was reckless, and this blog was probably much more fun to read. Since then, I've had a fire, I got married, had a son, and I am allegedly more responsible, but definitely more boring. I almost decided that this would be a good stopping point for my blog, especially I will have less time to dedicate to it. But I figure longer spans of time between entries is much better than just eliminating it completely. So it lives to see another day...
When I got that job I was basically single, I was reckless, and this blog was probably much more fun to read. Since then, I've had a fire, I got married, had a son, and I am allegedly more responsible, but definitely more boring. I almost decided that this would be a good stopping point for my blog, especially I will have less time to dedicate to it. But I figure longer spans of time between entries is much better than just eliminating it completely. So it lives to see another day...
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