One Year Later...

Day 366:

What a ride, Conor.  This being my 366th post in a 365 day year (Leap year Boy'O.  Still, I don't typically do math in public.)  On this day at 7:45am, 2011 you were brought into this world a whopping 3 pounds 11 ounces and 16.5 inches long.  You came into this world a solid 8 weeks ahead of schedule.  You came into this world as what is otherwise considered a 'preemie'; a less than technical term referring to your being born prematurely.  Never the less, despite the close to three weeks we would spend in the NICU at Virginia Hospital Center in Arlington, VA, despite the risks involved in the development of your lungs, despite the herculean effort in "teaching" you how to 'suck, swallow, breathe' - a function most, if not all, full term babies are born with providing them the ability to feed direct from womb to breast - despite machines and gavage tubes and bilirubin levels and maintaining body temperature and frankly, anything else that comes along with being born two months ahead of schedule and confined to a hospital isolette in a neonatal intensive care unit... Despite any of that, you had heart, Son.  The heart of a lion.  You ARE the Lion Heart, Boy'O.

I am by no means a perfect person, Son.  I am in no way infallible.  I have my flaws like anybody does.  Some of those I own and some I even embrace.  Others I remain blissfully unaware of.  It's the human condition, Conor.  But if there's anything I have, it's heart, Son.  You see, Conor, the Lion Heart is a self fulfilling prophecy in many ways.  In those long and confusing days early on, the time spent simply staring at you through a glass box, I needed something to hang on to.  I needed to KNOW you would be okay.  I needed something, anything that would assure me you would not only push through the trials that lay ahead of you, but that you would thrive, Son.  That you would be the stronger for it.  That you would be exceptional in spite of those trials...  And in the knowing that you're quite literally equal parts Mommy and me, I could only look inward to find that "thing" I needed to believe.  You see Son, I am the Lion Heart...

I've believed of myself that I can get through even the most difficult of trials because I've long since convinced myself that I have the heart of a lion.  A heart that doesn't quit.  A heart that loves recklessly and with no sense of consequence.  A heart that beats hard for the best of what life has to offer.  And in no way would I ever be so bold as to flatter myself, Conor...  I am a humble man; even more so now that you're in the world.  But as I stood there in those early days, I was reassured you would be okay because you had a heart like mine.  The heart of a lion.  The Lion Heart.  And thus the REAL Lion Heart, you Son, was born...  Literally and figuratively.

The term of your mother's pregnancy with you was difficult to say the least.  Mommy was considered 'high risk', seemingly from the word "Go!" seeing specialists and OB's weekly throughout more than two-thirds of her time carrying you.  Though the constant in that was always one thing, Conor.  That constant was, and still is, your beating heart.  The first time I heard that tiny rapid heartbeat through the doppler machine at Mommy's OBGYN, I staggered.  And then, after catching my breath, I listened.  I listened hard.  The steady, heavy droning of a strong and consistent heartbeat was the sweetest song these ears have ever heard.  And each visit back was nothing more than another opportunity to hear the same song again.  And again.  And again.  Always constant, rhythmic, paced, and strong.  So very, very strong.  The heart of a lion.  The Lion Heart.

I began this blog as a way to maintain my sanity, Son.  The written word provides me an outlet to evacuate my worries and articulate my thoughts.  It's an opportunity for me to get what's in my head, out of it.  It's quite literally my consciousness in command, Conor.  And again, in those early days, needing something to hang on to while utilizing an outlet and satisfying a request for information from family members as close as 10 miles away and as far away as Vietnam, this blog to you became that thing...  And after doing it for 19 days I figured there's no reason I can't keep it going for the whole year!  A daily journal.  A diary of sorts, though public to those who would read it.  Very early on, "The Lion Heart" was born.  More than a moniker, a belief.  And here I am, one year later writing the final post - for this blog anyhow - and you have in no way disappointed, Son.  What was once a moniker of hope, then turned belief, is now a common theme.  An expectation.  A standard.  It's you, Conor.  Only you.

The year has absolutely flown by, Son.  I can remember every breath of where I was this time last year.   I'm sure your mother would say the same...  And then, after three weeks, you were home.  And then you were 2 months old and thriving.  And then you were four months old and in need of hernia surgery.  And then you were six months old and smiling, happy, lively, and viable.  And then you were 8 months old and talking, albeit gibberish.  And then you were 10 months old with a bout of pneumonia, unfazed by an otherwise crippling illness.  And today you're one year old... Crawling.  Pulling yourself up.  Tormenting the dogs.  Eating anything we put in front of you.  And it went by in an instant...  Hard to believe.

Through this blog I've been able to "talk" to you, in a manner of speaking.  I've been able to encapsulate the events of the year.  The milestones, the setbacks, the amazement, and the love.  I've had many posts that were simply an opportunity to say hello to you.  Others contained what I perceive to be a lesson.  Something you can take with you through life and ever after.  And yet others that detail the events of the day so as to understand exactly where you were in that time and place.  Be it the nine states you've travelled to in your first year.  Be it your first word.  Or maybe the hilarious stumbling of first time parents managing "blowouts".  Whatever it was on that day, it was worth it... All of it.

Perspective is defined as the state of existing in space before the eye.  Nothing provides more perspective than a child, Son.  For everything I ever saw before you were in the world changed completely.  And frankly, it continues to change.  You've given me quite the perspective, Boy'O.  And not a second to soon.  Personally speaking, though I know full well I could say this for many others, life is just better now that you're in the world, Son.  And from here, well Conor, we're just getting started, Boy'O.  You are an exceptional child.  A perfect boy.  And one day you'll be a man.  And when that day comes your exceptionalism will shine brighter than the Sun to anyone who would be so bold as to stand in your light.  I know this to be true.  I know this as I know you as the Lion Heart.  I know this completely.  Epic things await, Son.  Truly.

Before signing off, I leave you with this; a poem written in your name.  And know this, Conor... No matter where I am in the World; be it by your side, a world away, or watching you grow and thrive and be the exceptional human being I know you'll always be from Heaven above, I will keep you safe, Son.  No matter what.

The Boy--

The cool night comes and wraps around the empty sound of silence,
though in the dark I see the light and peer into it's blindness.
There's no more peace than seeing love alone in silent slumber,
alive again I breath it in, let no man put us under.
For his eyes sparkle in the dark and open oh so sweetly,
the World to him is all brand new and innocent completely.
While lying there all cuddled warm the boy knows not how safe,
the ends for which I'd ever go to protect from those who take.
The boy then once again would look to me and softly smile,
my heart is his forever more and I'll protect him all the while.
For to and through my end of days I've sworn to God above,

Embrace the forever promise to keep safe the boy I love. 

And so this concludes "Conor Year One"... Though I'm in no way through, Boy'O.  No, No... As I mentioned, I write to stay sane...  And I write to you.  And while I'm opening another blog in your honor in a few short days (more a periodical than a daily), I'll be sure to notate the happenings and events of my most special boy!  After all, we wouldn't want to miss anything, would we?

Check out:
http://goconorgo.blogspot.com

But gimme a few days, okay?!

I love you, Conor...  So very much.
-Dad

Eve of the Greatest Day

Day 365:

Wow Conor... "Surreal" is not a word that begins to describe what I'm feeling right now, Boy'O.  This time last year, December 13th, 2011, was like any other... It was an average Tuesday and, aside from it being your Uncle Justin's birthday, it was a day just like any other.  On that evening Mommy and I decided to head out to meet Uncle Justin, Aunt Marti, Uncle Gil,  and many others for a drink and to share in the celebration of it being your Uncle Justin's birthday... On the way we decided to grab a quick meal at a local Chinese restaurant, then make our way to the bar where all our friends were gathering... Little did we know, you would soon be on the way.

The evening was fine, nothing incredibly memorable about it, and brief as it was it was still good to see Uncle Justin and friends for a small celebration.  And then home we went.  Several hours later we welcomed you into the world.  All 3 lbs 11 oz of you...

Tonight we followed the same pattern.. As best we could at least.  Me, Mommy, Grandpa K9, Memeow, and of course, you, made our way to that same Chinese restaurant, Son.  We had a veritable Chinese FEAST, Son!  Enjoying the meal, reminiscing on what it all meant only a year ago.  Brevity that gives a man pause, Conor.  Truly.

And here we sat enjoying the evening and reflecting.  Thinking about all that's transpired in the almost full year since you were brought to us by God.  And ever learning, Boy'O.  Ever learning.

Most interesting thing about this night was, I discovered, as did you, that oranges are maybe the thing you've liked the most in all the foods we'd been feeding you!  You couldn't get enough!  When the server brought over a full plate of orange wedges as an after dinner treat for us adults, I decided to give you one to see how you'd take to it.  Three wedges later I had my answer!  You took to it like a fish to water, Son!  And right then and there, another wave of perspective swept over me, Boy'O.  A realization of so many things to come.  Not that I hadn't considered it before, but given the night, what it meant, seeing you enjoying an orange only hours ahead of your birthday, I felt a great many emotions, Son.  And I'm not afraid of them... Not one bit.

After dinner I dropped you and Mommy and your Grandparents off at the house and headed out to see some of the very best friends this life can provide, if for nothing else to simply wish a happy birthday to your Uncle Justin and complete the circle of this day, one year ago...

In a few hours you're one year old, Conor.  One year!  A blip on the radar of time, Son.  Though more significant and in more ways than anything you could possibly imagine.  And quite frankly, it's just what I needed, Son... A little bit of you, forever and ever.

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

It Was the Best of Times

Day 364:

Conor my boy, when you look at the whole of each and every year you have to weigh the good and the bad... The low points and the high points... The positives and the negatives...  And in the end what you really must come to realize is, the good will ALWAYS outweigh the bad.  And it's so easy to focus on the bad, Boy'O.  Those times seem exponentially larger than the string of good days that precede it or the great days that follow.  The bad always seems heavier.  But it's not, Son.  It's not at all...  In fact, those days or periods of time are designed to do one thing; provide a lesson, Son.  You learn how to manage the bad times, you learn how to move through the tough times, you learn how to navigate the seas of emotions that can so easily drag you down if you let them... And then you think about the good times, Son.

Today was one of the good days, Son.  Today your Grandpa K9 and Memeow offered to take over Conor duties for the night and give Mommy and me the night out for the first time in I can't remember how long.  And you know, Son, we could have done something epic!  We could have gone someplace we've never been before!  We had Carte Blanche!!  But we decided we'd head to a local steak house, Ruth's Chris, to see my dear friend of 25 years, Pete Maxwell...  Always a good call.  Pete takes such excellent care of us and is sure to suggest the best of what they offer while providing exceptional service to compliment the finest steaks and wines...  A great night indeed, and an opportunity to catch up with your mother on all the things we otherwise miss through the day to day trials...

Now home and punching away on this keyboard, watching a bit of a live concert being provided for the victims of Hurricane Sandy... Bands like The Who, and the Foo Fighters... Bands that will long since be extinct around your coming of age, but rest assured Son, you'll know about them if your dear old Dad has anything to say about it...

I bid you goodnight, Boy'O... Time to turn in.  And tomorrow's a very big day.

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Day 363:

Well Conor, I didn't make that flight last night... I ended up staying in Tampa at a local Sheraton, so sadly I was unable to tuck you in. Still, it wasn't so bad I suppose.  I managed to get an early night's sleep which I was apparently badly in need of because I went down at around 10:30pm (internet and television were both knocked out as a result of a bad storm, so I had nothing else to do), and when the alarm went off at 6:30am, I was sure I could have stayed in bed another couple hours...  Never the less, I was booked on this morning's flight and so that would be my ticket home.

I finally arrived home around Noon to an empty house in need of some picking up ahead of your Grandparents getting here.  See Boy'O, as I was flying over the Eastern seaboard, Grandpa K9 and Memeow were rolling up on the Amtrak out of Savannah, Georgia.  So I literally flew directly over the train they were on while on my way from Florida!

When they finally made the DC area it was a little after 7:00pm and I was there to meet them in our truck, Son.  Very nice to see family coming to town to celebrate your birthday!  And so in they come, Boy'O.

I'm wiped out, Son.  Traveling takes it out of you, and so I'm going to bid everyone good night and make way for the bedroom.

I love you, Son.
-Dad

The Traveling Salesman

Day 362:

Conor, there are two things in this world I'll advise you to never become; one being a lawyer, the other,  a salesman...  It's a tough living, Boy'O.  Certainly feast or famine.  And when things are good, they're really good... Though when they're bad, they can be the absolute dregs, Boy'O.  And today is one of those days...

I've been dragging a couple of would be customers along for some time now, Son.  Both happen to be in Florida and so I've been spending an awful lot of time down here, traveling to client sites.  And you know, that's not so bad!  I like to travel and be out in the World!  But what I'm engineering towards is a signed deal before the end of the year, and nothing can be more frustrating than having delay after delay because one person or another can't make a meeting, or availability is lacking, or a resource is sick, or whatever it is... And it's always something.

It's safe to say that just about every job you'll ever have is dependent upon somebody else doing their job just as well.  Though in sales it's a contrarian effort, because unless there's some unknown entity sitting on your prospect's neck to get something done, the people you're working with are also working against you.  Frustrating to say the least, but that's the job.

Like I've been standing on ceremony about the last few days, you just can't let it bother you, Boy'O.  There are much bigger things on the horizon, and those things are steeped in what life is all about; the good times, Son.  And we're gonna have 'em, Conor. We're going to have EPIC times.

I'm on standby for a flight out of Tampa tonight and hopefully I'll make it home... Fingers crossed.  And if so, I'll kiss you goodnight, Son.

I love you, Son.
-Dad

Lion Heart on the Prowl

Day 361:

Well Son, you've gone from a feeble crawl to a full on cruise in a matter of only a couple of days!  It's now to the point where setting you on the floor and turning around to grab a cup of coffee means you're undoubtedly going to get your hands on something you shouldn't.  Case in point, I spin around to grab the afore mentioned coffee, and by the time I'd spun back around you'd moved three feet, grabbed the power cord for my MacBook, and started to shove the 'hot' end into your mouth.  Needless to say, I'm pretty pleased that Apple employs a magnetic power source thus rendering it useless docked to the appropriate receptor.  It was truly a lesson learned and we're all lucky it wasn't the hard way...

Aside from your Lion Hearted-ly quick reflexes developing into something to recon with, the other news of the day, at least as far as you're concerned, is that you've turned the corner from how you felt yesterday.  Though a raspy cough did manage to take its toll and has left you with a bit of a hoarse, raspy voice.  Regardless, it's not bothering you at all, that's for sure!

We're staying steady with the breathing treatments and they're doing their job.  You're breathing easier though, like any cold, it's gonna take a couple days to work its way out of your tiny little system.  Still, better to be a sickie now than on your birthday!

As for the day itself, well, it was certainly a good one, Conor!  Your Uncle Justin came over to watch our Washington Redskins beat the dreaded neighboring Baltimore Ravens, and in overtime no less!  And on top of that, Mommy used left over fried turkey to make the most ridiculously delicious turkey chili I could have ever imagined!  Fried turkey, okra, onions, green chilies, white beans... Mmmmm GOOD!  A perfect concoction for a day such as this... That's to say rainy, overcast, and cold... Nothing like a good authentic home cooked chili to take the chill off while celebrating the Redskins four game winning streak!

Now I'm off to pack because I'm flying out, yet again, to Tampa for some more business meetings.  Though I'll be home on Tuesday, Boy'O.  Along with your Grandpa K9 and Memeow!  Gonna be a fun week for you, Conor...   My big little birthday boy...

I love you, Boy'O.
-Dad

A Thousand Points of Light

Day 360:

Well Boy'O, talk about an eventful day!  Last night was virtually sleepless, Son.  And not because of anything fun... Quite the opposite actually.  No sooner had I made my way to bunk down for the night, call it 11:30pm, you were up and crying to beat the band.  Mommy jumped up to look after you, though realizing you were congested, feeling yucky, and all but inconsolable, she figured the only way to get you to sleep would be to bring you to our bed.  And to her credit that worked!  For a while...

When you woke up around 4:00am you were worse congestion wise, and so the only solution would be to get you back on albuterol, a nebulization drug, to help you clear your lungs and breathe easier, maybe get a bit more sleep.  Well, it worked for you, but not for me.  Once I'm up, I'm up.  And so I laid awake shushing you back to sleep when you'd stir...

It's not so bad I suppose.  I'm not a man who needs much sleep, Boy'O, so I'm all to happy to do it.  Though the day would be quite eventful and the lack of sleep is finally taking its toll.

When the pediatrician opened at 8:30am I was ringing them every 5 minutes 'til they answered.  We got a 9:30am appointment and, given the recent bout with pneumonia, the doc was all to happy to see you. So we brought you in and let them get a look at you, and so the medicine called for more nebulizer treatments every four hours complimented with two doses per day of budesonide, a steroid to help strengthen your little lungs.

Of course, through all of this you're as smiley as you've ever been, astonishing even Dr. Howell who, for having children of her own as well as being a long time pediatrician, commented repeatedly about how amazing you are for being so sick; a nasty gurgling in your lungs accompanied by a pretty good cough.  Though still, when we finally left, she seemed pretty sure that, as long as we stuck with the medicine regiment, you'll be turning the corner in no time.

By this point you'd already had a full day, Son!  But I was just getting started...  Upon returning home I started pulling all the Christmas lights out and getting things ready to signal Santa Claus for my good boy.  And so up they went!  Over a thousand of them!  Around the door, the rail, in the plum tree... It's a veritable Winter Wonderlund outside!  And Santa's sure to hit this house, Boy'O...  And I know he will.

Though believe it or not, our twinkling lights were not the highlight of the day.  No sir, tonight's highlight came in the form of my motorcycle club's Christmas / Anniversary party.  And what made that all even better?  Ziggy was there!!  Surely you'll remember the blog entries about my friend Chris "Ziggy" Ziegler and the motorcycle wreck he was in last Summer.  Well, after 2 months in the hospital and what's already been, as well as what will be, months and months of physical rehabilitation, Zig and his wife Carrie made the long drive form his home in Fredricksburg to the bar in Gainsville to be there.

Conor, it was SO GOOD to see our dear friend, Ziggy.  Easily the highlight of the day!  Still wheelchair ridden albeit mobile and upbeat, Ziggy was as refreshing a site as any of us have seen in six months.  And to be sure, Boy'O, it's the little miracles, and sometimes the big ones, that make you appreciate all the important things; all family, all friends, all loved ones... Ziggy came as close to death as anyone I've personally ever known and the fact that he's here, with us, smiling and being himself, is again a lesson of humility in holding close to us that which matters, and letting go that which does not...

Get well, Conor... You' have a big week ahead of you, Son.

I love you.
-Dad

The Poo-Tastrophy

Day 359:

Okay Son, this evening was made far to interesting far to quickly...  I've been battling yet another 'condition' since before Thanksgiving and the meds I'm taking make me feel pretty awful.  Lethargic, tired, achey, and ready to be done with these horse pills, I was more or less puttering around the house and doing not much of anything when I heard your mother screaming for help from upstairs!  No matter how bad you feel, Son, when called to action a parent is expected to respond as though the house was on fire.  And while we weren't being engulfed in flames, we were a bit engulfed in poo...

By the time I'd made it to the top of the stairs Mommy was holding you out in front of her screaming something to the effect of "oh my God, it's EVERYWHERE!"  Still not knowing what she was talking about and expecting there to be seven deadly ninjas for me to fight off, I stopped stunned and said, "What is?  What's everywhere?"  Mommy just kinda looked at me as though I should know exactly what she was hollering about and then said "POOP!  It's everywhere!  All over him!"  Not knowing exactly what to do I just reached out and grabbed you by whatever area I could that was not poop covered and then calmly said, "Okay, no problem... Just take off his onesie as carefully as you can and I'll get him directly into the tub..."  Well, it was the right call, but things didn't happen that smoothly...

Mommy tried to remove your clothes as carefully as she could while I'm holding you up in the air, when all of the sudden the stench of a fresh poop hit me square in the nose like a boxer's jab... Makes me start to give some validity to your Grandpa K9's theory on men raising children... That being, the proper way for a man to father a child is to be in the room for the delivery, then head out for 18 months to fight a war...
It all makes sense now, though I digress...

All the while you're laughing and smiling and just having a time!  Not a care in the world.  And that's when it happened, Son.  The onesie came off, poop smeared all through your hair, up your back, in your fingers, and then it hit me.  Literally.  With the last tug of the outfit over your head, SPLAT!! Little Conor turds smacked me right in the face...
So gross, Dude.

Unable to react and having to take it as though nothing happened, I moved swiftly to the tub, dropped to my knees, and started trying to rinse you off under the running water, drain plug open so as not to turn the bathtub into a septic tank.  And off it all came... I'm not quite sure how it happened, Son, but you had poo in between your toes!  It was on your neck!!  It was all OVER!  This mad scramble persisted for about 5 minutes until I could get you generally rinsed down and then flush the rest of the undesirable-matter from the tub to bathe you proper.  All the while with a smear of crap squarely on my cheek.

When the job was done, I didn't even pass go, Boy'O... Straight into the shower!  I couldn't even begin to guess where else this disaster was lurking on my skin... Face, arms, fingers, UGH...

That was a bit more of an adventure on a Friday night than either me or your mother have had in some time, Conor.  I can honestly say that, to the best of my knowledge, I've never had poop on my face.  Not ever.  So thanks for that less-than-memorable experience, Son.  Just add it to the resume...

Needless to say, considering my state of mind before all of this I am now WIPED OUT.  Turning in early, Son.  So sleep tight, my extraordinarily clean Son.  I'll see you in the morning.  Just keep it in the diaper, okay?

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

The Parenting Thing

Day 358:

You know Conor, as an expecting parent everybody has some playful anecdote or terrifying tale of the thing that happened with their best friend's mother's ex-dog owner's 2nd cousin on their father's side, child.  Be it about the pregnancy, the birth, the rearing, or the letting go as they make their way out the door to college or into the world to practice a craft.  The fact is, adults have been raising children for thousands of years and there is no 'right' way, though there is certainly a wrong way.

Whether it by tribe, a village, both parents, or even a single parent, there is only one thing needed to raise children.  That thing is Love.  The rest is simply a matter of style.  What I've learned since you've come into this world is that before you, I knew arbitrary things.  I imagined love, I thought I had so many answers, but then in you came and everything I ever knew became slightly, shall I say, skewed.

A parent's love is unwavering and the connection between child and parent is palpable.  By you gracing our lives I've taken a great deal of stock in that and for more reasons than I could possibly explain.  It's something that is literally impossible to understand until you become a parent, but knowing what I know now, it's so glaringly obvious how much I was loved by my parents.  A thing so easy to take for granted because you know inherently your mother and father will love you, no matter what, and they would protect you at all costs.  Even sacrificing their own life, both mortally and emotionally... There's no questioning it.  It just, is.

So now that I'm an expert in all things parenting after not even having been one for a full year, I can tell you this; parenting is easy with love, Son.  It's emotional, it's taxing,  and it can be both difficult and easy at the same time, a perplexing duality, but through love there's no part of the journey that's not worth it...

In life there are a great many things you can second guess, Conor.  You'll make many choices and decisions that will affect you and those around you, and there's no measure for how far reaching the ripples of those decisions will go.  Though in parenting a child the most noble thing a parent can do is make a decision and own it, stand by it, and defend it, come what may.  And I will, Son.  Your mother too, no doubt.  And someday, if you're as blessed as we are, and I can only hope that to be the case, you will too...

I love you, Son.
-Dad

Pull Yourself Up by your Bootstraps

Day 357:

Exciting things happen when you least expect them to, Conor!  Mommy had an event to attend after work today and so I would make my way to Merrifield to pick you up from daycare and then head home for a little play time...  And that's when the fun started, Boy'O!  While preparing to check your diaper and gathering the necessary supplies, I turned away from you sitting on the floor.  Seemed like it took only a second and when I turned back around, you were pulling yourself up in the glider chair and about two thirds of the way there!  Aside from my astonishment as to how fast you moved to the chair, imagine my surprise when I saw you that you'd darn near pulled yourself completely up!

I couldn't get to my phone fast enough to snap this shot.  I watched you pull up the rest of the way and then I sat down on the floor whilst you beamed with pride at your tiny accomplishment.  What I got is what you see here!  Pretty remarkable, Son.

It's these moments, these events, that we cherish, Boy'O.  A lot of what I was eluding to last night in fact.  The little things seem to wash away all of what otherwise feel like big things... At least for the moment.

It's funny, Conor, things I never considered before you were here.  Actions like the first time you sat up in bed all on your own, the first time you crawled, the first time you pulled yourself up.  Minute things in comparison to what lies ahead, and yet I'm as proud as if you just pitched a no-hitter in the World Series.  Undoubtedly it only gets better.  And that's what I mean.  I never considered what it would be like to have a little guy of my own.  I've always enjoyed kids and frankly, they seem to enjoy me!  Maybe because I still act like one as I push 40 uphill.  Though still, each accomplishment, no matter how small, can seem monumental.  And today, your timing was absolutely sublime, Son.  I can't even tell you how much I needed that lift, Boy'O.  As usual, you came through.

I love you, Son.  You'll be cruising on your own in no time!
-Dad

Revelations

Day 356:

Today will be another one of those 'lesson' posts, Conor.  Given my day, and what this day has meant to someone very special for the last seven years, I'm reminded of what's important, and quite frankly, what is not.

Speaking to my mother, your Mom-Mom, earlier tonight she reminded me today's the anniversary of the death of our dear friend, Jack Killian.  Seven years ago today, suddenly, and unexpectedly, our friend, Mom-Mom's dearest, suffered a stroke and sadly, passed on.  A stark reminder indeed...

Life is fleeting, Conor.  Remarkably it's already been close to one year since you were born.  "Blink and you'll miss it", as they say.  Often times we forget all the blessings we have as we take those for granted because they're simply here every single day.  Instead we focus on the trials and tribulations, hardships and challenges, and the things we quite simply cannot control.  We tend to dwell in the "what if's" and the "why's".  We don't recount what should simply be a cherished moment.  Instead we talk about the bad traffic or the broken down automobile.  Trouble with a loved one or knowing you're on the receiving end of a lie.  These things are so very trivial, Conor.  They're pointless and they carry no weight and so we have to remind ourselves to drop them and move on.

In my profession, Son, I'm lied to often.  Sales is a game of tells pure and simple.  It's about what you show and what you don't.  It's holding out for the better deal and, more often than not, it's the prospective buyer who would feed you a spoon full of untruth, just to get that deal.  It's a surrender of one's integrity.  As a result of my being in this position for twelve years, and considering the greatest strength I have now and have always ever had, is my ability to read people and situations.  Call it intuition, what have you, but I know all the tells, Son.  Today while working with somebody whom I've been working with for some time, I felt that familiar tell and I was disappointed if not even a bit angry.

On my way home I thought more and more about it and I was resonant to simply let it go, but still it just stuck in my craw...  Then I called Mom-Mom.  She reminded me of what this day means to her and I felt her pain.  She was sorrowful for missing her friend, Jack, and it showed through in the form of tears.  Tears for which I could only hear her cry through the phone and I was helpless to stop them.  Though assuredly, given the chance I would have done my best... Never the less, my momentary angst from the day left me.  Because it should have never been there in the first place...  It was a revelation, Son.  Not one that I was learning for the first time, but one that would 'reveal' to me the silliness of my worries.  If a person lies to you, Son, it means you weren't worth the truth.  And though that's a tough pill to swallow, it also means they're not worthy of you, either.  And so I was reminded to count my blessings and love what I have, control what I can control...

When I came in the door Mommy was feeding you and you were smiling.  Smiling to see me, smiling to be fed, smiling because you're loved.  There was a moment when I was simply elated.  Work didn't matter, half truths and untruths didn't matter, traffic didn't matter.  What mattered was that I was home, Son.  And I was thankful for it...

I love you, Conor.  You'll never really know how much, or at least not until you're a proud parent yourself.  And when that time comes I hope that you can recall these words, Boy'O.  I hope that you remember that the things that annoy, sting, and even hurt aren't important in the least.  Rather, it's taking account for what you have, and loving only who would love you back.  The difference between having everything and knowing you have everything, is quite simply the knowing, Son...

I love you always, Conor.
-Dad

Game Time!

Day 355:

Well Son, today it was a fire drill of epic proportions... Why, do you ask?  Well because Mommy had a dinner tonight and so I had to grab you from daycare and make my way home, only to realize that I needed food for the dogs... So what would we do?  We'd get changed (well, I'd get changed) and then head back out, only rather than load you up in the car (because what fun is that?) I decided to strap you into the Jeep stroller and make way for the long walk to the store.  In and out, Son... Dog food, CHECK!  Next, how about a little dinner?  Again for me, but still, we'd eat together...  SO I stopped by the local deli, Chutzpah, and pick up some chicken schnitzel and cole slaw.  Then finally back home!

Why all the rushing around, well, because it's GAME DAY!  That's right, Conor, the Redskins are playing on Monday Night Football against one of their greatest rivals, the New York Football Giants!  There are all kinds of implications in this game, Son.  If the Skins win, they stay alive while knocking the Superbowl Champion Giants down a peg in the division.  If they lose, well, the season may well be lost.  Though the kid we have starting at quarterback for us, Robert Griffin the Third or, "RG3" as he's called, gives this team a chance to win each and every week, Son.  And it's been decades since the Skins have had something like that.

All that said, I still had to get you fed, play with you (I didn't have to but it's the best part of my day), give you a bath, and rock you to sleep... And as gracious as you can be, you went into a depp sound sleep literally one minute before kick off... Thanks Boy'O!

And so now here I sit, watching the game, watching the monitor, writing to you, and having a cocktail of my own.  A good night, Son.  Now if the Redskins could muscle out a win, boy would that make me happy!

I love you, Son.  And Hail to the Redskins!
-Dad

The Christmas Bomb

Day 354:

Well Conor, this time last year was an all out effort to get the house redecorated for the then upcoming Christmas Holiday.  It was a bit more of an effort for me given Mommy's advanced pregnancy with you and so I did all I could to dress the house up, per your mother's instructions, as best I could.  Keeping in mind we weren't expecting you to get here for another couple months, certainly we expected to be able to enjoy the Christmas Holiday in our own home, calm and relaxed.  Turned out that wasn't the case.  Our Christmas would be spent with you, in the NICU at Virginia Hospital Center.

Considering that, we also took great care to decorate the NICU room as best we could, complete with a little Christmas tree!  A Charlie Brown Christmas tree in fact!  All that said, now consider what I'm finding pulling out all the stuff from last year... Quite a bit!  And a ton of memories.  Considering the circumstances, they're all good...

Yes Boy'O, today the Christmas Bomb went off squarely in the middle of the Living Room.   Stuff everywhere!  I will say though, with some thought collaboration and a few ideas, coupled with a new style inspiration, off Mommy went to get the decor for the tree and we stayed behind to add the lights.  Specifically 900 lights!  Or as Mommy says, "1000 points of light."  Rounding to our advantage that is...

Certainly it was a fair amount of hard work, though the house has been transformed quite nicely to a Christmas paradise... YOUR first Christmas paradise, Conor.  At least in so far as being home for it.  We celebrated Christmas with you last year, Son, albeit under extenuating circumstances.  Assuredly, this Christmas promises to be far different than any Christmas past.  At least for me and your Mommy...  And something that I'm personally looking so forward to...

That's all for tonight, Boy'O.  Gotta get back to work.  For tomorrow when you awake, your house will be a Winter Wonderland...

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

Timber!

Day 353:

What a day, Conor!  When we finally got  this train moving this morning, thankfully with Mommy feeling much better than the chills and 102 degree fever she had last night, it would be a day of a great many things, Son.  Specifically, it was first a stop to Costco to buy a new television for our revamped living room, next a spot of lunch at a local Mexican eatery, and then it was off to cut down our Christmas tree!

For the last several years Mommy and I have been making our way to the Virginia hill country to actually walk the vast acreage of Christmas trees, choose one, and cut it down to bring home.  This of course would be the first year we could do that with you, Son!  And so we made our way to Ticonderoga Farms in Chantilly, VA to find such a tree.  Though this year, I brought a secret weapon, Conor.

In years past I would get the obligatory hand saw from the tree peddler, Mommy would walk aimlessly to find the perfect tree, and when she did I would nod and agree then get down on my knees to hack at the bastard until it would finally fall... Then I would drag the poor thing several hundred yards to the bailer for it's wrap up and placement on the roof of our Tahoe...  Well this year would be different, Boy'O.  Despite a few troubles with the chain tension on the 'hot saw' and a couple of quick repairs along side the waiting tree to get everything just right, I hit that tree with the chain saw and it came down in a matter of seconds.  Quick, easy, and with tools that most men wouldn't ever conceive of running... And for good reason.

I then dragged my trophy tree a couple hundred feet to the bailers, paid the fare, and loaded you and Mommy into the truck, both victorious and satisfied... More than anything, those men I mentioned who shouldn't operate such equipment, well, they looked on us with a great deal of envy, Son.  Perhaps that's something you should get used to...

When we finally made it home it was time to hook up the new 42" Vizio television and get started on enjoying the living room more than we have in the last 10 years...  A few pitfalls aside, we were off and running, Boy'O!

Tomorrow will be a bit more in terms of time to put up our tree, some new drapes, and pull the pin on the Christmas bomb...  And so with that, I'l say goodnight.  But a fun day, Son.  Truly.  And maybe a new tradition for our family!

I love you, Conor.
-Dad