Saturday, September 22, 2012

Timeout Boy's first time in Hawaii.

When Timeout Boy first went to Hawaii, he was still in his mommy's belly.  We went down there for a baby shower just after Christmas in 2008.  It was also my first time there.  I had only met a few relatives in the extended family before then, so it was a good opportunity for everyone to meet the baby daddy.

It was fun, of course.  It was good to have family there and save on food and lodging.  We stayed in the guest room of Gail Forcewind's aunt's house.  Her uncle joked at first that I would be sleeping on the couch because we weren't married yet then.

For the baby shower, most of our gifts were cash, since we would be travelling back to New Jersey.  Of course, we weren't going to be taking along a crib and a stroller on the plane.  But the money really helped when it was time to buy those things.  I mean, I knew having a baby wouldn't be cheap, but I was shocked at how expensive baby things actually were.

I only had a week off of work, while Gail had two.  (I wanted more time off work, too, but that's another story.)  So I had to leave her and Timeout Boy after a few days there.  I didn't really want to.  I had such a great time with the family that I seriously considered just giving up everything and just staying there.  We would just forget our jobs, and I would probably work at Wal-Mart or something, I guess.  (Since, the low-paying jobs at the pineapple plantations have been shipped off to even lower-paying labor in foreign countries, Wal-Mart stores have sprung up all over the islands to take advantage of the labor force.  But I digress.

Gail was smart enough to talk sense into me.  I was all like, maybe we can do this until this, and if this, then this.  And she was all, no because we need this, and if you do this, you can't do that and so on.  And I was like, I guess so.  But I kept trying to convince her until my last day there.

On the plane from Hawaii, I had a bit of a Santonio Holmes episode.  I didn't take off my headphones before take off, and the flight attendant had to come back and ask me again.  I reluctantly removed them.  I was depressed.  I didn't want to overhear the surfer dudes behind me talking about the righteous waves or whatever the heck that was about.

Even when we were finally allowed to turn on electronic devices, I couldn't get into my music anyway.  I watched "It's A Wonderful Life" over and over again while I was trying to sleep.  When I finally woke up - or give up trying to sleep - I watched "The Duchess" until I had to turn it off for landing.  I hated travelling across the continent and just sitting there on a plane and not being able to do anything but think.

I was just so depressed.  I was so afraid of bad things happening.  I was terrified of not being there for my wife and baby.  Thoughts like that entered my mind, and I just wished the week would be over and we would be together again.  And of course, I missed them like freakin' crazy.

I kept myself occupied by moving our things from the old basement apartment to the new place.  I still had a tough time sleeping.  I spent my nights on the futon mattress on the floor with movies playing on Gail's laptop.  They were DVDs I made of the trip, and when I couldn't stand them anymore, I played "Hellboy" on a loop all night.  There wasn't any particular reason why I chose it; it just happened to be the one I had from Netflix at the time.  After a few days, I switched to "Hellboy 2" on a loop.  It's kind of funny but now I don't remember any of it.  From either movie.

I was so relieved to finally pick up my wife from the airport.  All that bad stuff I went through kind of disappeared and I became me again.  It was snowing that day she arrived.  It snowed off and on for a few days, actually.  The cable guy came in the morning, and her flight came in the afternoon.  We sat together on the futon mattress and watched the Ravens beat the Dolphins, if I remember correctly.  After a few days, we bought the stroller and the crib and assembled them.

I feel for those parents who serve in the military and those who have to work overseas, and even those who have to go on business trips regularly.

Friday, September 21, 2012

A bad dream and some regrets.

I had another bad dream last night.  It wasn't a nightmare or anything.  But what was terrible about it was that I was yelling at my son.

It's kind of vague now, but he was trying to take a shirt from me and I wouldn't give it to him.  I was cutting off the sleeves, and I guess I didn't want him to be so close and get hurt.  After a moment, he finally gave up and went away.  And then I noticed that one sleeve was already cut off.  So I wanted to show it to him and say, look, this is what I'm trying to do.  And then that was around when I woke up.

I think what brought that dream on, is that lately I've been kind of feeling guilty about some moments in the past.  Like now, he is almost fully potty trained, and I kind of feel bad about the times I've put him in timeout and yelled at him for not going to the toilet.  Not all of the times, but some of the times, maybe I could have been more patient.

There was also a time when he first started to walk that I refused to carry him.  We were in the park walking to the car, and sometimes he would just stop and wait for you to carry him.  I guess I wasn't having such a great day that day, and I refused.  I just kept walking and he kept walking after me and crying.  I don't know, I kinda feel bad about that now.

There was also a time when he started noticing the noises from our neighbors.  We had this one guy who used to always run up or down the steps for no real reason.  So every time he would go out or come home, we would hear him rumbling on the staircase.  Around ten months, Timeout Boy started to notice this and would run up to his mom or me in fear.  Me, mostly, actually.  (Which is one of the reasons why I lost patience in that walking incident; every time he wanted to be carried, it was by me.)

So anyway, around that time when he started noticing noises from neighbors and from cars outside etc., he started to be real clingy.  For about a week or two, when I would give him a bath, he would want to hold onto me and I kept holding him back so I could wash him and not get myself wet.  He got over that phase after a while, but every now and then, I still think about it and wish I comforted him more instead of just disregarding it.  Maybe I should have explained to him why I didn't want him close.  Or maybe I should have just jumped in the tub with him.

When he first started walking, we would take him to the playground almost everyday.  He would bravely explore, and run and climb, and we had to keep up with him.  One day, I got real mad because I kept calling him back to me and he didn't listen.  So we went home and we never returned for months.  It was near the end of summer, and then it got too cold to go there.  So I feel really bad about that.  When we finally came back, it seemed almost as though the place was foreign to him.  He was very cautious and scared.  He would crawl on the structures instead of running carefree like he used to.  He still does that sometimes nowadays, about two years later.

So these are some moments that I wish I could do over.  Overall, I'm happy with my parenting though.  Timeout Boy is a really good kid who wants to please his parents and teachers.  He is known as the helper in his day care.  And we have a lot of fun and inside jokes together.

I guess I've just been noticing that Timeout Boy is growing.  I think that's why I'm thinking more about when he was little.  Or more little.

I love every phase.  It's hard to explain.  I want him to be a baby again.  And I want him learning to crawl and walk again.  I want him learning to talk and eat again.  And at the same time, I'm glad that he is potty trained, dressing himself, knowing the sounds of letters and practicing writing.  It's like I can't wait to see him grow but at the same time I don't want it to happen so fast.

I guess I just gotta try and enjoy the moment more.