I once saw an interview with Billy Joel in which he explains how inspiration for his music would rouse him in the middle of the night, almost as if it came to him in his dreams.  He’d wake up with melodies in his head and he’d scramble to feverishly write them all down so they would not be lost.  You can say the inspiration for this blog came to me in the middle of the night following an evening of Mexican food and margaritas; an evening that left me stumbling into the bathroom frantically searching for antacids and reading material.  I thought to myself how my sleep interrupted is one of those little “life lessons”, and as such I decided to capture some of the educational experience that have recently come my way.

 

I will begin with the most recent lesson I’ve learned.  Never try to engage in rational thought after having just woken up following an evening of Mexican food and margaritas.  Case in point: I was reading an article in Newsweek that was written by one Sharon Begley.  I thought the name sounded familiar.  I realized the only Begley I know of is the actor Ed Begley, Jr.  I wondered if Sharon and Ed are related, perhaps married even.  But if that were the case, she’d be Sharon Begley, Jr., not just Sharon Begley.  I paused a second to absorb that statement, then I mentally kicked myself in the head for being so idiotic and went on my merry way.

 

Another thing I’ve learned recently is that cats just love having their foreheads pet and their bellies rubbed.  They do not, however, like the base of their tale grabbed, touched or looked at in any shape, way or form.  This segues to the next learning experience which is there are few things in life faster than the claw of a cat who is having the base of his tail squeezed ever so slightly.  Granted, this is something I already knew.  But when you take into consideration the fact my blood had been thinned out by the tequila in the aforementioned margaritas, you’ll understand why it takes more than just a little band-aid to stop the bleeding.

 

On a grander scale, I’ve learned – or should I say was reminded – that change in life is constant.  In many ways, our lives are like rivers that flow mightily on their own yet remain dependant on so many other factors in order to survive.  And not unlike a majestic waterway, our life meanders over time.  The banks on which we once found friendship and security may no longer exist today because the passage of time has caused our lives to shift is a new, sometimes more necessary direction.  We may try to contain our momentum towards change and force our personal rivers to flow in neat, straight lines. The fact of the matter remains we are never in complete control of this direction, and to resist change is like to refrain from breathing.  You can do it, but you won’t survive long.

 

I’ve learned to let go, for the most part, of the “why’s” that cause to the meanders in my life.  That’s not to say that analyzing the factors and circumstances that lead to the change in the first place isn’t important.  This is, after all, a blog about lessons learned.  Rather, I try to focus on the “what’s next” aspect of a recent change.  It’s in looking ahead that we continue to grow and develop, and that’s one lesson it took me a long time to learn. 

 

So I sit here with a roll of Tums next to my laptop, my finger wrapped in gauze and a pulsating numbness in my head that is screaming for water, Advil and just maybe a little hair of the dog. I think about the last time I over did it at our local Mexican place and why I didn’t remember that particular lesson last night.  I contemplate what I will do the next time the cat rolls on his back and gives me that ‘puss-in-boots’ pout that begs for his tummy to be rubbed.  More importantly, I drift down my river taking in all the glories that have been thrown my way, not consumed by the recent changes in current, but instead focused on what’s around the next bend.  

Chaos is a word that makes me cringe.  I hate the idea of things being out of place, unorganized or not following some logical flow.  I am comfortable with IF/THEN statements.  I thoroughly enjoy seeing things that are supposed to happen happen.  This can be a problem in the IT world, but that’s a separate entry.

 

For some time now, I have dreamed of trying stand-up comedy.  Every time I see an ad for open-mic night, I internally resolve to put together 15 minutes of material and give it a shot.  But given that I am terrified of crying myself offstage, I instead live vicariously through the many stand-up comedians I enjoy watching on a regular basis.  Specifically, I was a big fan of the show Last Comic Standing.  The winner of the first season was a comedian by the name of Dat Phan.  Not only did he pour himself into his material, he trended his jokes by the responses he received on stage.  He segmented his jokes by time so he could build a routine to fit a time constraint.  His notes were meticulous and he continuously tweaked his material until he felt it was just right.  When he won the overall contest, I felt there was a sense of universal validation where the most prepared person ended up on top. 

 

This past Saturday, my daughter received her First Holy Communion.  For Catholics, it’s a pretty big deal.  For Hispanic Catholics, it’s the biggest event outside of a wedding.  The process of getting Natalie ready for her First Communion was two years in the making.  It began with me getting the information on CCD classes, registering with our Parish, and ensuring she made it to her classes every week.  It also involved completing projects and prep work with her at home, ensuring all the administration (baptismal certificate, etc.) was done, and making time at home to talk to her about Jesus and what we believe as Catholics.

 

To say the least, it was a rather drawn-out process.  When it came time for the actual event, there were seating logistics to deal with as well.  The first several rows of pews were reserved for the children receiving the sacrament (there were about 50 or so kids).  The next several rows were reserved for the parents and family of the kids.  Seating was on a first come, first served basis and only four family members per child were allowed in the parents’ reserved area.  Having been to the rehearsal, Alex – Natalie’s mom - and I knew whereabouts Natalie would be sitting during the ceremony.  We made it a priority to get to the church early and stake our seats in the first row in the parents’ section. 

 

As luck, and preparation, would have it, Natalie ended up sitting right in front of us during the ceremony.  This was especially nice since it allowed us to better share the ceremony with her, and it allowed me to get really great, up close pictures of her as well. The whole ceremony turned out to be just beautiful, and we were like Bob Uecker in the front row for the whole thing.

 

They say that life is what happens in between making plans.  It is said even the best laid plans can go to hell in a hand basket for no apparent reason.  Sister Hazel will tell you that life got in the way.  I’m cool with that, and for the most part, that’s been my experience in life.  Still, there is that inner control-freak that just loves to see logic rule the universe and isn’t happy unless ‘A then B then C then D’ is a true statement.  Every now and then, it’s nice to have the pieces fall into place and the planning turn out the way it’s supposed to.  All too often we’re busy reacting to life and accepting that everything happens for a reason.  Like this past Saturday, it’s really nice when life simply goes as planned.

When I was in high school, my dream was to make movie trailers.  Talk about a great job.  Sit around all day, take a movie and compress it into 30 seconds so that people will want to go see it.  Not just want to go see it, but HAVE to go see it.  I think we’ve all been there, sitting in our comfy theater seats or even our sofas at home and seeing a movie trailer that brings a tear to our eye and makes us say, “I’m SOOO seeing that.”

 

So I’m sitting here on my comfy sofa with the TV on in the background as I go through e-mail and IM’s and ponder what I want to do for lunch.  Then comes the trailer for a movie called Martian Child.  It starts out typically enough with soft music and a montage of scenes and the characters providing voice over.  It caught my attention and I sat back and watched.  What happened over the next 30 seconds just captivated me.

 

Long story short, the premise of the movie is a man who takes in an eccentric, little kid who thinks he’s from Mars. In addition to the fact the movie co-stars Amanda Peet (hubba, hubba), the movie looks like it will be an emotional ride that will make you cry and smile and cry some more. What grabbed my attention was a line in the trailer. “I don’t want to bring another kid into this world, but how do you argue against loving one that’s already here?”  This got me to thinking about how there are so many kids out there who don’t experience all the joys and pleasures of childhood because they are either in foster care, or they’re in a family environment that simply doesn’t foster love for them.

 

I’ve written over and over of how fortunate and blessed my life is.  I know this good fortune spills over into the lives of my kids, and I thank God that He has allowed me to provide for Natalie and Daniel in the way I capable of providing.  We had a cook out yesterday, and in addition to our friends coming over, we had 11 kids running around, playing in the pool and around the house, and just having a great time.  There was laughter and giggles and moments when an adult would turn to the kids and ask them to keep it down.  After all, isn’t that what being a child is all about?

 

I watched the trailer over and over – one of the many glories of a DVR – and just absorbed what I think is the intended message of the movie.  “There’s no harm in being a little eccentric.”  The trailer cut to the little boy hanging upside down from a rail as John Cusak indifferently reads his newspaper.  Flash back to yesterday and a houseful of kids who are, after all, little individuals waiting to blossom into the adults they are destined to become.  There were tomboys and princesses, coy little kids and explosive extroverts, and I think about how they are all special and beautiful and eccentric in their own way. 

 

I think about my two children and the little characters they are.  I think about how they provide me with a daily, emotional ride that brings a smile to my face and a tear to my eye.  I think about how watching them as kids is a preview of the grown ups they will eventually become.  I think again about how lucky I am to have them in my life, and how much I love being abel to see them on a daily basis.  Sitting around cutting film and making trailers may be a dream job.  Running around, acting silly and being a dad, however, is living the dream.

Today is my son’s 6th birthday.  Has it really been six years?  Six years since I sat in the O.R. at St. Joseph’s Women’s Hospital and watched him be delivered?  Six years since I introduced my daughter to her little brother?  Six years since I had that almost biblical moment of looking down and thinking, “This is my son!”?  Where has the time gone?

 

I almost always try to avoid clichés in my writing, but kids really do grow up fast.  I see it in my daughter all the time.  A little girl who’s 7 going on 17.  She stopped being a little girl a while back and has, for some time now, been this mini-teenager who talks about clothes and friends and stuff that I thought would still be foreign to a seven year-old.  Daniel, however, has always been just a kid.

 

I had a friend who used to always affectionately refer to Daniel as “the goofy one”, and if you know my son you know what she meant by that.  Daniel has always been the personification of “a little kid”.  He’s always been easily consumed by cartoons, toy cars and any kind of ball he can kick.  He’s a black-belt in his own mind.  He’s can have long conversations with people that aren’t there, and his mind is his private movie set where he writes, directs and stars in his own the animated, action film.

 

Yet I can’t help but think of six as being one of those turning point ages.  He’s closer now to being a young-adult than to being that infant I held when he was born.  He’s more likely to jump a ramp than jump a rope, and I am more and more likely to be a regular at the after-hours pediatric center.  I can see it in his eyes.  His big, expressive, speak a million volumes eyes.  He’s growing up and I need to learn to start letting go.

 

I always thought the idea of my daughter growing up would be the toughest thing for me as a dad.  After all, no father wants to see his baby girl grow up.  We have a unique perspective on women, and being a dad reminds us guys that all those women we chased, harassed and partied with all have a daddy of their own, too.  It’s a sobering reminder.  Yet, Natalie’s sense of maturity and wisdom is comforting and reassuring to me.  It’s almost exciting to think of her getting ready for high school and then college.  There’s a vicarious thrill of watching her learn, grow and succeed.

 

With Daniel, I think what weird’s me out about him getting older is that it means I have to grow up, too.  Having a son is a build in excuse for acting like a little kid.  Wrestling on the carpet, cannon balls into the pool, spontaneously farting – these are all things I get to do with him because he’s a little kid.  And even though I know he will still be a little kid for some time, I am reminded today that it’s all slowly coming to an end.

 

The truth is I look forward to the seeing my children grow and mature into responsible and respectful adults.  Yet I want them to immediately stop aging and remain my baby girl and my little goofball for ever and ever. I like to think I’ve done a good job with them so far, and I try to remain focused on them in everything I do.   I look back at the past six years and I think about all the wonderful times I shared with them and all the spectacular memories we created together.  I look back and see nothing but happy memories and the smiling faces of my son and daughter.  I have been a little kid because of my little kids.  As they say, time flies when you’re having fun.

 

Happy birthday, buddy!