Calli's One!

The first pictures are at home, when we got speghetti & lasagna from Andrea's favorite restaurant.

Tuesday the 21st was our darling girl's first Birthday. As Andrea said, “Somebody, on some plane of existence, thought it would be a good idea for us to have a child.”

She's started walking, though crawling's faster, so, in the spirit of efficiency, I'm sure, she still crawls when there's somewhere she really wants to be. She's also started imitating speech. Her current favorites are “Ha ha ha” from a story we read her, and “Oh Yeah.” Awesome. Occasionally, we'll get “Poopy,” “Allah” and “Buday” (Spell Check isn't helpful on that one. It's that toilet-fountain meant to replace shit-tickets.) We've decided that it's time to retire the “F-Bomb,” and other offensive words, 'cause you just know she won't repeat them until she's in the situation that would most embarrass us. Like meeting one of my super-sensitive bosses and saying “Fucktard” or “Oyster Rose.” Oh yeah, I went there.

On Sunday, we had her first Birthday Party (Thanks again mom-in-law for hosting), and she got her own cake. We were sure she would make a mess of it, and she did, but not half as bad as we would have expected. Still, it was easier to just strip her down and take her to the tub. And Calli learned that she loves cake & icing. A lot. When I tried to dress her after her bath, she was literally bouncing. I'm sure every parent before me has already learned this, but cake is like speed for babies. The cats are concerned; after a year of successfully staying out of reach, they suddenly don't have a chance.

It turned out to be a lovely time and more of an adult social & photo op. As Andrea said, it takes a village, and we were glad to have so many family & friends in attendance. There were two conspicuous absences though. Can you guess who? It was the two ladies who said “Oh, you just HAVE to have a chocolate cake. Don't worry, I'll bath her and help clean up.”

I Haven't Literally Messed Myself. However...

It's been a week and a half since I've posted, and I'm sure that the parents among you know why. With Andrea back to work, the chores don't go away. Getting used to this has really taken a toll on all of us.
Calli and I had some great Daddy/Daughter days that left my just exhausted. Trying to take up my share of what Andrea was doing when she had more time has been a learning experience. I've always given my wife due credit for the effort she makes, but now I see that I barely had an inkling of what she did.
By the time I got Calli ready for Daycare, did some chores, made food for her, put the house in some semblance of order, then worked a shift, I was just done for! Even with my vitamin B and copious amounts of coffee, I'd get home, and just collapse.
I noticed this trend last year; the Blogesphere slowed down in September as parents got back into the swing of getting their kids off to school. Now, I'm one of them, and I totally appreciate when parents can squeeze a few extra-curricular activities into their day. Some of the more clever parents I know take the week off to get into the swing of the new school year. I've got next week off, but it's gonna be hairy.
You see, our daycare provider backed out. I get to spend my week off finding someone else to watch Calli so we can continue making an income. yay.
The previous paragraphs were written last Friday. It's been that kind of week. With Calli's Birthday party on Sunday (more on this on Friday for the Birthday Blogfest hosted by Michelle at Southern City Mysteries)we have again been crazy-busy.
Anyhoo, our daycare provider quite because our little angel was unable to settle. Like a lot of 1-year-olds, she was quite confused and distraught with the situation. Now, I'm losing my mind trying to find another provider. This brave soul gave her notice with a Facebook message. Twit.
So, sorry for the delay, but I'm sure you understand (even those who don't relate). If you're reading this, thanks for not giving up on me! And thanks to my wonderful mother-in-law who took pity on me and gave me the afternoon off!

Back to work.

Like a million other things, the fear of a thing is worse than the thing itself
Yesterday was Andrea's first day back to work after a year. The day before (Labour Day), she had some butterflies and twitches. God love her, she handled it in true Italian fashion: she made brownies. If any single guys are reading this, try to find a woman who vents-out her anxieties in the kitchen. I know, it may seem that you want a woman who blows-off steam in the bedroom, but don't think for a minute that you'll always be able to keep up with that. Then, you'll have a woman that's anxious and frustrated.

Anyway, she had a better day than she was expecting. A few things have changed, but nothing she can't keep up with, and they went easy on her, not overwhelming her at all.

I spent the day with Calli, and asides from her not getting a proper nap, it went well. I got a lot done, and Andrea came home to a pasta dinner, wine and flowers. I was absolutely spent, and pretty witless. I've always honored stay-at-home-moms, knowing full-well that they have a huge job. Now I've got a glimpse of it, and boy-howdy, it takes a lot out of you.

Today is Calli's first day at Daycare. I thought I'd drop her off a few hours before work so I could get some stuff done. I'd heard that it would be hard to leave her the first time, but assumed that the time to write, play bass, vacuum, what-have-you, would be great, not worrying that I had to tend to her at any given moment. Well, I was fine, until I slowed down, and went into her room. Yeah, I'm a little emotional about it. I'm sure it'll get easier, but today, I miss her.

Thanks for all the great comments! I'm glad to hear that autumn is so popular, I thought Spring & Summer were the popular times, so it's nice to hear that I'm not alone. And yes, I think Blogging can go towards a word-count, unless you have a contract, and people are waiting for your work. (I'm looking at you, George RR Martin!)

"Fall" or "Rise?"

The temperature has dropped, and thus begins my favorite time of year.

There are several reasons why I love Fall. For starters, all my favorite clothes are long-sleeved. This is probably conditioning from when I was a chubby kid, but even now, I'm happiest in jeans and either collared shirts or long-sleeved cottons.

This ties in nicely with another favorite aspect of autumn. Two of my favorite holidays are Thanksgiving and Halloween. One for socializing with family over huge dinners. One for dressing up and gallivanting about the neighborhood. As a child, I'd get a pillowcase full of treats – Huzzah! And I got to dress up like a Jedi or Ninja to boot. Nothing could go wrong with that plan, until the year I got egged by high-schoolers. I was getting too old for it anyway, but a new friend had talked me into it.

Believe it or not, this time of year still triggers my back-to-school mentality. It's time to buckle-down, and devote my energy in whichever direction I'm committed to, usually some form of study. After a few years of establishing my family, my natural inclinations have bubbled to the surface again. My commitment to music has found an expression. After a couple of jam sessions with my friend Kyle, formerly of Breach & Entry, we decided to work together on shows. Once he gets the recording done, he's gonna shop it around, and it won't be long before we're taking to the stage. It's been a very long time since I've played a live show, but I have no doubt that I'll settle into it like a pig in whatever it is that makes pigs happy.

And, of course there's the flip-side of my creative drive: I'm writing almost daily now, though I've yet to reach 1000 words a day. I've taken the advice from several of you to heart (Hart? Cheers, Sister!), that it's more important to have a daily practice than to push myself to an arbitrary goal. I would rather not run the risk of making it a chore, and then making myself so sick of it that it becomes tedious. Naturally, there's a time to wrestle with it until the words come, but that doesn't necessarily mean I need 300 words of shite just to reach a particular number.

What does help, however, it to switch scenes. I may be able to push a thread for 350-500 words before I run out of steam, but then I can pick another character, and see how far I can push the story from their point of view. Does anyone else work this way? What are your tricks to move things along without producing filler?

The End Is Near

Shortly after getting up today, I realized that it's been a week since I've posted. I've noticed that before; after a Blogfest, I seem to take a bit of a breather. Not that they take a lot out of me, but I guess that all the reading involved afterwards, and the subsequent Following (and being Followed – thank you kindly!) is more time-consuming.

If I'm not posting, odds are that I've gotten caught-up in Life Happens. Nothing extraordinary, nothing tragic, just the day-to-day stuff. This week, however, there's been a bit of a cloud hanging over the house. Next week, after Labour Day, my sweet wife is going back to work. By Gar, it's been a year already! And boy-howdy, is she ever excited about it! If you've got a moment, I can lay it on even thicker.

In preparation, we've been leaving Calli with the 'sitter for half-days on Thursdays. We figure that an acclimatization period was wise, so it isn't such a shock to her system when it becomes three days a week (Gramma takes her on Mondays, and I have Tuesdays off). All was going well, until Thursday night (about 1:30 AM), she woke up in a tizzy. Then, again on Friday night, another nocturnal tantrum. Either she's getting separation anxiety, or the new teeth coming in are giving her grief. Sadly, her language skills aren't up to giving us a clear answer on the trouble that wakes her. On Saturday, we had the 'sitter and her family over for a BarBQ, because it would help Calli to get used to them, and they're just good people, and fun to spend an afternoon with. The day of cleaning and yard work was nearly enough to put me to sleep right there at the grill, but it's all worth it to flex our hospitality muscles and enjoy friendly company.

Has anyone out there had to start daycare for a 1-year-old? Can you enlighten me as to what kind of distress we're in for? I'm aware that kids are a lot more resilient than we tend to give them credit for, but I'm wondering what kind of misery our house has in store.

Rainy Day Blogfest.

Welcome to the Rainy Day Blogfest. Feel free to leave honest feedback (I'm sure I need it), and swing by and see Christine, our gracious host at The Writer's Hole. Enjoy!

To set the scene' Gemei (and a friend, Radian) are draft-dodgers in a fantasy world. They had to stop for help at a farm when Radian became deliriously ill.

It was very late, well past midnight, when Abe decided it was time to go home. From a forgotten barn on the property of the swill-brewer, they stumbled along wagon tracks and cow paths by the light of the moon. Abe, who had said maybe twenty words in the four days Gemei had worked with him, now slurred bawdy songs and praise for his beautiful wife in turn. Gemei had slept in a corner most of the evening, after throwing up the alcohol that was better suited to dissolving boots. When he came to, he found some ale, as rain thundered and whispered on the old roof in turn. Finding no one his age, he spent much of the evening by a minstrel with his lyre. He now enjoyed a nice glow.

“When I met Merill, she was fine. Dressed plain, see, in her father's fields, picking...OOF!”

“Abe?” Gemei looked up to where he'd been, walking beside him, but Abe wasn't there. He heard him laughing, though. A laugh that cut short in a disgusted noise.

“Aw, bear spawn, was it raining?”

Looking up, Gemei said “I think it still is.” Among the trees, it was hard to tell.

“Well, plainly it was. Plain as the puddle soakin' my breaches. Help me up.” Clasping each other's wrists, Gemei tried to pull the big farmer to his feet. Next thing they knew, they were both in the puddle, Gemei gasping at the cold, and Abe laughing at his effort.

“Yer a good'un Gemmy.” He was as surprised by the arm over his shoulders as the kind words, “but ya ain't no fisherman.”

“Not yet, I...”

“No one'd send lads your age alone to Manos. No one who's been there would trust farm boys to find their way without getting' cheated or conned or worse. And anyone who hasn't thinks if half the stories are true, you's have your eyes stolen by ogres and sold to witch's. No, if your mam and paps are alive, they don't know where you are any more than you do.”

Speechless, Gemei opened and closed his mouth, hoping his story would come, but only a drunken fog filled his head.

“Boy, ya look like one o' them fish you keep talkin' 'bout. No, my guess id it's the Garrison's you're fleein' They'll get ya, sure as sunrise, if it's just the two of ya.” Gemei felt like he was half the age of his fifteen summers as Abe measured him. Looking away, he continued. “By next full moon, the Gypsy's will be passin' through. I'll have a word with 'em. No reason they won't let you travel with them for a season. They're beneath the contempt of the Garrisons, and it'll be easier to stay hid.”

“But, Gypsies? They're...”

“They're decent enough, if they got no cause to take exception to ya.”

Gemei could no longer spin yarns. He'd been laid bare, and the relief was palpable. “My thanks...”

“Pah. Let's get home. Mornin' comes early, and I'd rather work with a head ache than listen to a lecture.”

Born a Ramblin' Man...

Thank you all for the well-wishes on my first Blogaversary. I'm still having a lot of fun with it, and will carry on as long as I have an Internet connection and at least one finger to type with.

Speaking of fun things I do with my fingers, last Sunday I did something I haven't done in WAY too long. You may remember me writing about going to see the local metal band Breach & Entry, who have since disbanded. Shit happens, eh? Being in a band can be a lot like a romantic relationship, making it subject to all the volatility that entails. Anyhoo, I work with the vocalist, and we decided to get together for a little jam. Nothing serious, just showing each other what songs we know, but it was good times all around. We're not establishing a band, but who knows what the future will bring, eh? It would be pretty sweet though if I was the first person to grace the covers of Writer's Digest and Bass Player in the same month :)

At work, we did our inventory last night. I got home at 11:20, bragging about how our store manager made us a steak-and-roast-potato dinner. Never one to be out-done, Andrea told me that Calli had taken three steps without support. “Oh! Oh, WOW!” Our little girl's growing up so fast! Well, she is 11 months, it is about time, but as much as we're encouraging her, we're trying to let her develop at her own pace. I think that it's gonna be a life-long struggle to encourage her growth while giving her the space to do it in her own tempo. Neither of us are terribly patient, either, but we're both pretty clever.

Dammit, why didn't Andrea brew-up a manual to go with this child? Well, she's pretty healthy and happy so far, and she hasn't choked on a clump of dog hair yet, so we can't be doing too badly. I'm confident enough when I'm actively parenting, it's just when I step away for a minute that I start fretting. Is this common among parents?

Stay tuned Tuesday for the Rainy Day Blogfest, where fiction that features (wait for it...) rain will be posted by some mighty talented writers. If you'd care to get involved, stop by and see Christine's site, The Writer's Hole.