One and one makes three....

Hey everyone....my better half is a MUCH better writer than I am...so I thought I would give you a link to her blog, so that you could read her account of our beautiful daughter Grace's birthstory.

So, go here.

And, well....uh.....that's all.

More later!

Tommy

So...a Democrat, a Republican and Ross Perot walk into a bar....

I just took a little quiz over at okcupid.com, and...apparently, I'm a Social Liberal, an Economic Liberal...and, unbeknownst to me, I've been harboing some latent Socialist tendencies all these years.

Huh.

Who'd a thunk it?

Oh, and Baby Gracie is doing well. She's a joy and she's started becoming more and more aware of the world around her. She found her hand the other day. That was cool...

more pics and more updates to come...

guess what this Friday is?

(c;

Thanks for stopping by!!!

Tommy

Exploding Poo and other joys of Fatherhood....

So, in one of my previous posts, I told you all about how Grace had poo'ed all over Bibi, and that she had peed on me. Great fun right?

Well, yesterday, I was a bit worried about Grace. She had been fussy all day. She looked upset...she looked concerned...she looked...well, not to be too paranoid, but she looked like she was in pain.

Last night, right before I took Leo for his walk, I went in to change Miss Gracie. I was chatting with her, just loving the fact that I get spend time with her, when her face scrunched up...she was making a very frustrated, strained face.

And then...

It happened.

There was poo...well, everywhere. The wall, the towel under her, my arm, my hand, I'm pretty sure that had I been leaning any closer, I'd have gotten a good amount of that crap in my mouth. (Pun, obviously intended. (c; )

And, afterwards?

Miss Grace was just all smiles. Apparently, she HAD been in pain. Gas pain, poo pain, whatever you'd like to call it...she was feeling...uh, pressure. (c;

And, just like that, she wasn't.

And, for those of you who were waiting...here are some more pictures....

Here's Grace and her puppy Leo. He loves her so....




And this one is, obviously of Gracie sleeping.

The Rebirth of Slick...

I'd like to thank everyone who has read and responded to the last post. I appreciate all of your thoughts and ideas, and I respect the validity of all of them, while I may not necessarily agree. And, with that in mind, I'd like to extend my previous post, and go into depth a little bit more...

One of the interesting themes that has come through quite clearly is the idea that my wife and I should be glad, we should be thankful, that our baby, and my wife, are both healthy and that, in the end, that is all that matters. On the flip side, it's possible to see all of the obstacles and challenges that Bibi and I went through in the last week and to get bogged down entirely in those aspects of the birth of our first child. It would appear, unfortunately, that we have to diametrically opposed outcomes, wouldn't it?

I would like to propose a third...

And, in order to begin this third option, I need to clarify just a bit what was going on in our brains last week...we were a flood of varying feelings and thoughts. The idea that I mentioned in the last post, that of "mourning the loss of expectation" comes in here. Let me explain.

Bibi and I were deeply saddened by the fact that we were going to have to have a c-section. It is a mere truth that we were holding on beyond all hope that we might be able to have a natural childbirth experience, free of medical intervention. We spent the better part of Monday night, Tuesday, and some of Wednesday, mourning the loss of this hope. It was an intimately and closely held desire that we both had, and those die painfully, and slowly.

During this time of mourning, it did NOT go unnoticed that a c-section may indeed be the very thing that would save both my child's, and my wife's, life. It was with a very profound sense of appreciation and gratitude that Bibi and I willingly consented to the c-section, as we recognized that this is very likely the reason that we as a people are able to do that kind of a procedure.

Indeed, what I have learned from this experience is that it is possible to be totally and completely overjoyed at the outcome, and heartbreakingly devasted by the means. While these two feelings might SEEM opposed...they are not mutually exclusive. You've got to be able to separate the "stuff", from the "stuff".

Thank you all, again, for reading, and stay tuned as I regale you all with tales of Grace's explosive poo that ended up all over Bibi (WITH PICTURES!!!) and how Grace was kind enough to poo and pee all over me this afternoon as I changed her diaper. (Thankfully, no pictures were found.)

Thanks all, and enjoy....and, as always....

thanks for stopping by.

Tommy

The Rebirth of Cool...

All right, race fans, you've waited long enough. It's been exactly one week since our beautiful daughter Grace Khalsa was born, and I've got a little time, so I thought I'd "grace" you all with a story. So, sit back, relax, and I'll tell you.

Way back, before Bibi and I even got married, we talked extensively about the many thoughts that we both had about pregnancy and about child-rearing. (Huh, communication....who'd a thunk it?) We knew that there were certain things that were really important to Bibi and me. (More for her than me, as I hadn't REALLY spent all that much time considering whether or not an episiotomy was a good thing or not....or, what an episiotomy was, in all honesty.)

So, we knew that we wanted to have a home birth. We wanted to utilize the services of a midwife, and that we wanted to have as natural a childbirth as possible--no medication, and as little medical intervention as possible. As we grew close to our due date, it become a very special thing...I really looked forward to participating in this beautiful metamorphosis and transition in to a new chapter in our lives.

However, as is often the case, God has different plans.

Last Monday, June 4th, Bibi noted that she had seen spots on three separate occasions that day. Due to her slightly higher blood pressure throughout the latter portion of her pregnancy, we were on the look out for pre-eclempsia symptoms, and she was now exhibiting some. (Seeing spots, headaches, and higher blood pressure.) We called our midwife, and she came over around 9. It was at this time that we decided that our midwife could go ahead and attempt to "encourage" labor, as Bibi was 38 weeks the next day. And it was during the "stripping of the membranes" that our midwife noticed something strange....instead of a head, she was feeling what was most likely the babies butt. This, to say the least, was not good.

Suzanne (the midwife) then recommended that we get a sonogram. Up until this point we had not had a sonogram, as it is still unclear what long term side-effects can occur. However, knowing if our baby was breech was important enough, and we agreed.

So, the next morning, Tuesday, June 5th, we went to KC Medical Imaging and had a sonogram performed. It was quite breathtaking to see our little one in there...eyes, nose, and mouth were all obvious, and he/she was sucking his/her thumb. However, he or she was indeed breech. (Upon leaving, Bibi began gushing about how gorgeous our little one was, and how precious the pictures they had given us of the baby were; I looked at her, and whan asked what I was thinking, answered completely honestly: That, in my opinion, the picture looked like proof positive that there really are aliens. It was, in all honesty, frightening. Of course, we thought that was hilarious, because I was kidding....wasn't I?) When we returned home, our midwife came over to suggest certain techniques that could possibly help in getting the baby to turn over. These consisted of playing music for the baby, with speakers down near Bibi's pelvis, having Bibi lay upside down on an ironing board with a bag of frozen peas (in our case spinach) at her breastbone and two burning "moxa sticks" next to her pinky toes. Suzanne, at some point during the day informed us that, if we weren't able to turn the baby, we would most likely have to go to the hospital and have a c-section. This was obviously as far from the outcome we were hoping for, and it was disheartening to say the least. We were then instructed to go to a pool and to have Bibi stand on her head. We did so.

Around 6 o'clock, when we came back from the pool, Bibi started having some contractions, and she had not felt the baby flip over. She decided to have a bath, and try to relax. It was during this bath that Bibi noticed that her mucus plug had come out. This meant that labor was most likely to begin very soon. We waited a while, realized that Bibi's contractions were only getting stronger, and called Suzanne again. She told us that we should get ourselves to the hospital at once so that they could give Bibi an IV to try to stop/slow the contractions to buy us more time.

We packed a bag, piled Leo into the car, and headed for Bibi's folk's house to drop Leo off. We then drove to the hospital. It was a strangely calm drive. We were both, as Bibi's mom Guruparwaz put it, "mourning the loss of expectation." We got to the hospital around 8:30 or 9, and an IV was inserted. We hung around the hospital, monitoring Bibi's contractions, and orienting ourselves to the waiting game we were beginning. Around 11:30 we were sent home, because the nurses said that Bibi's contractions had slowed down significantly. (This was news to us, as they had actually increased in frequency and intensity, but we were hungry and scared...what did we know?) So, we went back to Bibi's parent's house, and had a quick dinner, and then decided to stay there, as the contractions were exacerbated by riding in the car. Thus began one of the longest nights of our life....

The contractions came every 6 minutes from 11:45 pm, and increased to every five minutes the next morning. Realizing that things were progressing, that we had run out of time to get the little one to flip over, we headed back to the hospital, tired, but at peace with what was most likely going to be the outcome.

Checked in by 8 o'clock am Wednesday, June 6, we spent all morning, and all afternoon discussing baby names, calling family members, and accepting what was coming. Our midwife informed us, through a doctor at the hospital, that there was one more option...performing a "version" to get the baby to move. What this entails is this: in an operating room, the doctor would attempt to physically push the baby, from the outside, around in the womb. We were told that we would do this after Bibi had had an epidural, so that if the need arise, we could jump right into an "emergency c-section". Wanting to be sure and exhuast all reasonable avenues, we agreed.

At approximately 5:00pm, the anesthesiologist arrived and gave Bibi the epidural. I was given a set of scrubs so that I could go into the OR with Bibi. We wheeled Bibi down the hall way, and entered the OR. The physicians were all leisurely ambling about getting ready for this procedure. Both Bibi and I were wracked with nerves, excitement and worry. The version began, and it was as horrible to watch as one might suspect....the doctor was literally wrenching Bibi's belly, and the baby. After what seemed like about 10 minutes, the doctor noted that the baby's heartbeat had dropped unacceptably low, and it was time to move on. Instantly the lacksadasiqual atmosphere was no more; doctors and nurses snapped into action and the c-section had begun. Bibi was immediately frightened by the fact that she could still feel everything that was going on, and did not want the operation to begin if she was going to feel the incision. The doctors informed her that it was perfectly normal that she could feel "some things" but she would not feel the incision. This was not a great deal of comfort to either of us.

The c-section began after a curtain was placed in front of Bibi and I. Periodically I would peer over the curtain to see what was happening on the other side. I would not recommend doing so. Ostensibly, a c-section consists of making a "small" incision in the woman's abdomen, and removing the baby. What they don't tell you, and the tv shows don't show you, is the amount of exertion it takes on the doctors part to pull the skin of the abdomen back, so that the other doctor can reach in and rip the baby out, in what can only be described as a terribly violent and utterly unnatural "procedure".

Our baby was "removed", or born, at 5:57 pm, on June 6th, 2007. At that time, we found out that we were indeed the proud parents of a baby girl. She was whisked away from us, to the other side of the room so that they Newborn Nurses could clean her up. (They had been instructed NOT to clean the vernix off, as it is an excellent protectant if massaged into the babies skin.) I was confused as to why it was taking so long to get her back over to us, as we wanted to put the baby to Bibi's breast as soon as possible, so that she might benefit from her mother's milk. After 11 minutes, I was asked if I would like to see my daughter...I of course said yes, and told Bibi I would only be gone for a minute.

I walked over to see my daughter and was just amazed...she was grotesque. (And, of course beautiful, but let's be honest here....newborn infants are NOT cute...they are covered in vernix, and have just gone through one HELL of an experience....vaginal birth or c-section, it doesn't matter. She was gross. Beautiful, to be sure, but gross none the less.)

It was there that I was informed that the nurses had not been able to ween her off of oxygen yet; they had tried at 5 minutes, and had been unsuccessful. It was actually as I was standing there that she was weened finally. They brought our daughter over so that Bibi could see her, and the nurses informed us that she would need to be taken to the newborn nursery and given a bottle of formula, because her blood sugars were low. (50 is the minimum, and she was at 41.) Scared, confused, and wracked with doubts, we agreed. I reluctantly left Bibi to go with my daughter.

In the newborn nursery, our baby was given a bottle of formula--and thirty minutes to increase her blood sugars to at least 50, according to the Nurse Practitioner Tammy. At the end of the 30 minutes, her blood sugars were down to 30. She was going up to be placed in the NICU immediately.

I had to go and tell Bibi. That was one of the hardest things in the world for me to do. To make that walk, actually from the NICU, down the hallway, right to the elevators, down one floor; out the elevator past the "families waiting room", take a right, a left, walk passed the nurses station, and to our room. To do all of that, knowing that I have to tell my wife, my sweet, beautiful wife, who has just gone through hell that our little girl was going to be out of her arms for who knows how long. Yeah, that sucked.

Bibi took the news well and we commenced getting her healed. We went up to the NICU about 9:00 that night, and were able to see her. And, this began a whole new chapter for us at the hospital. The NICU nurses were....well, less than what you would hope for.

One of the things that Bibi has been looking forward to most of all, is breastfeeding our baby. She sees it as an amazingly powerful and intimate link between the mother and child, something that nothing else can replace. Also, it's much healthier for the baby, as it is exactly what the baby needs, when it needs it. So, you imagine how hard it was for Bibi when we found out that our girl was going to be put on formula. (Babies who are bottle fed before being put to breast have an increased likelihood of experiencing difficulty in learning how to breastfeed later on.) This can be compounded if a pacifier is used; it's called Nipple Confusion, and we had specifically told one of the nurses who was in the OR that our baby was NOT to get a pacifier.

So, it was a little difficult when we, finally, were able to go to see our baby girl, and she was lying there, surrounded by tubes, wires, cords, and an IV of glucose, and a pacifier stuck in her little mouth. It may not seem like that big of a deal, but, when you go from seeking a homebirth, with no medical intervention, to an unplanned c-section with a baby in the NICU, it would be nice to have SOME say in the treatment of your child, you know? Bibi politely mentioned that we didn't want her to have a pacifier, and the nurse immediately bristled, as if to say, who the hell are you? (Uh....the child's mother?) Then, as was perfectly within her rights, Bibi asked about getting a chance to breastfeed. The nurse, who was already upset, apparently thought that this was the most unreasonable request imaginable, and responded by saying something along the lines of, "well, if you really want to do that, it will most likely result in having a feeding tube placed in the babies throat." She then proceeded to tell us that having too much stimulation would negatively impact our baby and that we should limit our time up there. (How 'bout letting the new parents have, oh, I don't know, some time with their child?!)

Thursday, Bibi and I divided our time between our room, with our families, and Grace's little area in the NICU, avoiding the nurse from the previous night, and the periodic lectures from other nurses. We began making our every four hours trip to the NICU so that Bibi could nurse Grace, followed by Bibi and I using the breast pump so that we could get as much of Bibi's milk to the nurses to supplement the formula they were using.

Friday Bibi and I were told that Grace was doing much better, and that her numbers were pretty consistantly in the upper 50s, with a couple of tests in the low 60's. We were told that there was a chance she would be released to the main floor sometime that day. Around 4 oclock in the afternoon we were told that all Grace needed was two scores trending up towards 60 and she would be good to go. It didn't matter what time it happened, even if it was 3 in the morning. We were ecstatic. I even glanced at Grace's chart and saw it myself. However, at midnight, her last two scores had been 56 and 54, consecutively. The nurse, who was a new one, told us that she had been told that the nurse practitioner had decided that Grace needed two scores ABOVE 60. Bibi and I were shocked. The new nurse, who was indeed just doing her job, walked away, visibly uncomfortable with how upset we were. Bibi and I just looked at each other, shocked, and unable to move. Finally, I snapped out of it, and said, "I'll be right back." I walked out of Grace's cubby, and turned towards the nurses station. Our nurse, Pam, was talking to the Nurse Practitioner, Tammy. Pam came out, saw me (and the intense look on my face), paused, and then came over. She began to try to speak, but I interrupted her, "It's obvious that I'm very upset. I want you to know that I am in no way upset with you. I am, however, very upset with this situation. I've seen the chart myself, and I know that the chart did not say two scores above 60. The chart said two scores trending toward 60. Now, obviously, 56 and 54 are not trending toward 60, so it would be wise for Grace to stay up here now. However, I'm just a little bit, and I feel legitimately so, concerned that when I come up here tomorrow, I'm going to be told that she needs two scores above 65. Or two scores above 70. What stock can I put into what I'm being told, if the doctor's recommendations are being overruled?"

Tammy, having overheard all of this, came out of her office, and came over to talk to me. She then explained that, there had been new research done, and that 60 was now the new minimum, and that some doctors were still using the old information, but they were going to go by the new information. (Apparently she forgot that she was the one who told me 50 in the first place, back on Wednesday. ) However, Tammy went on, since Grace seemed to be doing well, as long as our nurse Pam didn't mind coming down to our room every 4 hours and testing the blood sugars there, Tammy didn't see why Grace couldn't come down with us then. (And the crowd goes wild...!)

So, Friday night, at midnight, Grace was released to our care, down on the third floor, just so long as Pam would continue to check her blood sugars. It was the sweetest sleepless night of my life. All day Saturday we continued checking her blood sugars, rejoicing in her 68, her 74, her 71. It was wonderful.

And, at 3:30, we were told that Grace would be discharged from the hospital after having just one more "short" test performed. We gladly agreed, and the nurse wheeled Grace into the Newborn Nursery. Three "short" hours later, Grace was returned to us, and we began gathering our belongings. We had one last good laugh before we left; Bibi's dad, mom, and my mom all crouched on the floor, trying to figure out our new carseat, me standing behind the car seat, instructions in hand, trying to get a word in edge-wise, and Bibi laughing hysterically at the expression on Grace's face; Bibi said it was something along the lines of, "what the heck are you people trying to do?!"

We piled our belongings into our cars, and proceeded to make the longest 15 mile-an-hour-drive-in-a-forty-five-mile-an-hour-zone ever. I once asked a friend in college, who had just become a dad, does your driving change over night? Do you automatically get better, more careful, safer?

The answer?

Hell yeah, you do.

And, that's our story...so far.

Thanks for your patience, and thanks for stopping by....

Tommy

Picture number 2 of 1,000,000

Rest assured, the story will come, but for now...

Amazed by Grace....

Hey! Here's a picture of my daughter. (c;

A brief update...

Two things....

1.) I have a job! I left Kirksville last Thursday, and had two interviews lined up that afternoon. I thought they both went well, but I liked one of the schools a great deal more than that other one, for a number of reasons. The principal there said that he was going to call me back either that night or the next morning, but I imagined it would probably be much later...like, this week sometime. However, as Bibi and I were discussing that fact, my cell phone rang, and it was that very principal asking if I would like to take a fifth grade position at his school next year. (I said I would like that very much.)

2.) We had to rewire our phone jacks b/c they were a) old and busted, and b) just old. With my father-in-law's help and guidance we rewired the lines in the bedroom and the kitchen. And, after having him explain what I should do in the office, I rewired and connected the jack there. And, that, my faithful readers, is why I am now able to post this! Whoo hoo!

3.) Bibi and I are expecting our newborn any freakin' day now....

stay tuned for frequent-ish updates.

Tommy

It's Story Time!

So, hey!

As my title would suggest, it's story time gang! So, sit back and relax and let me tell you all a WONDERFUL story!

Once upon a time there was a young man who was living a very good life in a small town. He was married to the most beautiful woman in the world, and was getting ready to become a father for the first time, and he could not have been more excited. He was so happy about his wife being pregnant, and his wife was happy, and everyone was happy.

This young man was also very happy in his chosen profession. He was a teacher. He was working in the same school that he had started working in, and was very happy. Except, well, he was having doubts. He wasn't sure that he was doing as well as he could have been doing. He was reflecting back on this time as a teacher, (almost five years he had been teaching) because he was getting ready to move to a new city.

Everyone told him what a great teacher he was, but he had some secret doubts. He knew that he cared, but caring and a quarter will get you a cup of piss-poor coffee at a truck stop on I-35. He had been sure that he would get at least a few job offers in his new big city, and that the transistion would go very smoothly.

But, it hadn't gone smoothly.

He had gotten a screening interview in the Big Fancy School District and then hadn't heard a thing for 3 months. (And, that felt like an eternity!!)

He was starting to suspect that maybe he had put all of his eggs in one basket, and then grace-lessly dropped that egg-filled basket off a very high buildling.

Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-plop!!!!

And, with these new dark doubts plaguing our young man's mind, he started thinking back on all of the students that he'd had over the years....

and of one student in particular.

Our teacher had started his teaching career with a very special class of students. They were all wonderful and unique creatures, blessings from God, to be sure, but our teacher saw them more like a plague of hissing cats. They were always egging each other on, acting out, pushing, bickering, and in general not acting like our teacher thought his first class would act. And, in this class, there was one young man. This young man had come from an exceptionally trying background, with a lurid family life, a horrifying school experience, and failures and stumbling blocks far too numerous to recount in this short story.

Our teacher knew of this young man's challenges, and he also knew of his pattern of acting out in the classroom. Our teacher wanted to be different for this student. Our teacher wanted to make a difference in this young man's life. Our teacher wanted to be that teacher who would help this student see that things could be different; that he could succeed. Throughout the course of the school year, there were any number of conflicts between student and teacher. The student even told the teacher that he was an asshole. He said that the teacher should get a different job, that he shouldn't be a teacher at all. The teacher refused to give up on, or let up on this student, and the student, as students are wont to do, refused to give up, too. This continued on all year long, teacher pushing the student, student pushing back at the teacher, and so on. The teacher continued to try to make a difference and, probably tried to write something meaningful in the students yearbook at the end of the year, hoping--most likely in vain--that it would have some kinf of a sustaining impact on the young boy.

And, in time, those struggles, those attempts at reaching the young student, got lost in a sea of attempts and struggles for our teacher.

And then, one day, long after that young boy had been removed from the school district, long after he had been committed to the juvenile detention system of that particular state, about the time our young teacher was worrying about whether or not he would get a job in his new home, he received three very significant phone calls.

The first phone call was from a school in his new district asking him if he would like to come in for an interview. The second call came an hour and a half after that interview, from the principal asking him to come back for a second interview.

And the third phone call?

That call came when our teacher was finishing up packing up his house, getting ready to move to his new city.

The caller?

The young student from that first class.

He had been looking through his things, and had happened upon his old fifth grade year book, and he had seen that his teacher had written in it, "I wish you nothing but success in the future, and I know you can achieve it."

He was calling because he had gotten his G.E.D. (early!!) and was applying to go to radiology school in the fall. Oh, and he also wanted to apolgize for all the stuff he had done in the teacher's class.

Our teacher chuckled, dumbstruck, and told his long lost student that it was quite all right, and that he was just very glad to hear from him.

They chatted for a while and said their goodbyes. And, as is often the case, the student would never realize the impact he would have on this one teacher.

And that, my faithful readers, is story time for today.

Thanks for stopping by.

Tommy

Random picture....

I found this picture on the interwebs the other day...thought I'd share it with you all. It's a picture that was taken during the winter (obviously) by the local newspaper.

More soon....

I ain't no fortunate son...

I believe I've mentioned my music project with my class before, and I wanted to update you all on something pretty cool that happened last week.

Last week my song was Fortunate Son, by Creedence Clearwater Revival, and the kids were really enjoying it. (They've enjoyed the music a whole lot more now that we're (mostly) done with classical music, but that's ok...:) ) Anyway, in Social Studies we were finishing up the beginning unit on the Civil War. We were talking about all of the events leading up to the Civil War, the strengths and weaknesses of both sides during the war, and the attitudes and behaviors of both the south and the north during the Civil War. One of the issues we addressed was the fact that civilians in both the south and the north were able to evade the draft by either owning a certain number of slaves, or by buying your way out of the war. We discussed whether or not this was fair, what it meant to the poor and underprivileged, etc. Well, in a flash, like a...uh, (ahem) surge, it hit me...the song fit perfectly with this aspect of American History. I printed off the lyrics to the song, had my class read them as I played the song, and watched as they began to make the connection between the song and our discussions of the Civil War. Some kids asked if the song was written about the Civil War. I explained the connection to the Viet Nam war, and the correlation between the song, and both wars. Then, to culminate that particular part of the class, I sat back and reveled in what I was seeing...20 ten, eleven, and twelve year olds singing along with CCR and really getting it. It was truly something special.

Oh, and for those of you who don't know, I allow my students to get my attention when I'm unable to attend to them by saying "O Captain, My Captain". One of my students had checked out a book on Civil War poetry and songs. She found the Whitman poem (O, Captain! My Captain!) about Lincoln, and excitedly showed it to me, as if I didn't already know about it. I read the poem to the class, we discussed what it meant, and for the first time, my students smiled just a bit deeper when proclaiming, O Captain, My Captain!

It's been a good couple of days in class, to say the least.

Anyway, I've been working on my playlist of songs for "Music Time". I know I asked for suggestions before, but...any new ones?

And, as always, thanks for stopping by...

Tommy

April is the cruelest month...

Sad news from the literary world. David Halberstam, one of my all-time favorite authors was killed today in a car accident.

When I was a sophomore in college, I was given the opportunity to have dinner with this remarkable man, along with a number of other students. I was able to sit at his table and talk with him about his many books, his illustrious career, and his time as an embedded journalist during the Viet Nam War. I left that meeting with a profound appreciation for his work, and I have enjoyed absolutely every book I have read by him.

If you haven't read any of his work, I highly recommend you give it a try.

To David Halberstam: a man with class, a humanitarian, and a great author; you will be missed.

Thanks for stopping by....

Tommy

Strangers in the Night...

A funny thing happened tonight...

A VERY funny comedian, by the name of Zack Galifianakis was performing at Truman. I used to watch his show when I was in college all the time, and my old roommate Brad was a HUGE fan. However, both Bibi and I felt totally wiped out by the week/weekend, and we were unable to get tickets to see him. I was kinda bummed by it, but at the same time, knew that we both needed a quiet night in.

So, around 9 we were walking Leo on our usual route, when my shoulder started hurting; I asked Bibi if it would be ok if we cut out the last leg of the walk so that we could get home. She, of course, said yes, and we turned to head back home. As we were passing the Truman faculty parking lot, I glanced to my left, and saw a very bearded man, dragging wheeled luggage behind him. I paused, and without thinking said, "Are you Zack Galifianakis?"

It was!

I asked if he minded if I introduced myself. He said sure. We walked over and I introduced myself and we kind of chatted a bit. He asked what brought me to Kirksville, and I said that I was a teacher here. I admitted that, while being a huge fan, I hadn't been able to see the show, and then asked how was it. He said it was pretty good, but, you know, these college audiences, some of the material just goes over their heads. But, as long as you curse a lot, they love you. (c;

He then asked for directions to a good restaurant, and I told him how to get to Il Spazio. We then finished walking Leo and came home.

So, that's how I met Zack Galifianakis.

More later...!

Thanks for stopping by...

Tommy

Insert catchy title here.

Anybody know any songs about fathers? I like to title my posts with song titles, and I couldn't think of anything for this one.

Disclaimer: Rambling post about a lot of different topics, and containing a lot of gushy emotional stuff. Be warned.

You ever had one of those days, when things aren't all that great...I mean, don't get me wrong, they're far from bad, but it's just not THAT grea? And, then...outta nowhere, you have a glimpse of how blessed you REALLY are? I was sitting in my classroom today while my students were working on their assignment, thinking about the massive weight of things that have been kind of slowly creeping on top of me, and I thought about coming home tonight, and it hit me like a ton of bricks, (way more quickly and powerfully than that "woe" nonsense), how unbelievably happy I was that I got to GET to come home to this wonderful woman, this partner of mine. I honestly almost started crying at my desk I couldn't wait to come home to see my Bibi. It's a good thing, no? It brought to mind the lyrics from one of my favorite singers, one who I've already posted here back in November.

"Now is the time of collection
Now is the season undone
Now is the winter of my discontent
Made glorious summer
By your sun "

Jeffrey Foucault--Sunrise in the Rearview

Anyway.

Onward to other topics.

So, I've been thinking about fatherhood a lot lately. (Imagine that.) I was thinking back to a couple of years ago when I was visiting Kansas City and I was hanging out with a friend of mine who had recently become a father. He was a friend of mine from my freshman and sophomore year, who was the epitome of that goofy and great friend that I imagine everyone has freshman year of college...he was just this funny, cool, mildly wild (is that possible?) guy who was liked by everyone, but was in no way remotely "adult", you know? And, I remember VERY clearly watching him with his son...watching him change his son's diaper, play with him, relate to him...it was one of the most amazing things I've seen in some time. I mean, it really stuck with me. I can't wait to be that guy...to change diapers....to play with my child, to be....a dad. I. Can't. Wait.

And, speaking of that....I've been thinking about family, and parenthood, and such....and, it's been a whirlwind of thoughts....

For those of you who know me, who've read the earlier posts on this blog, etc, you know that I've kind of been stuck in this rebelliousness about family for sometime. I think everyone goes through it to some extent or another at some point in their life, but I think maybe my phase was a bit on the long side. Anyway...in this mindset I was pretty critical of my parents, of my childhood, of how I was raised, about family in general. It was a very strange thing, and it led to me having some pretty strong opinions about how I wanted to raise my kids. I read a really good book a couple of weeks ago called, "Fathering Right from the Start" about being a dad, and it really struck me. This is what I learned/realized.

I want nothing more than to be the kind of parent my mom, dad, and step-dad were. They parented with nothing but the purest intentions and motivations, and with nothing but love as the core of their decisions. They loved me, and my sisters, with all of their hearts and all of their minds and souls, and they wanted nothing more than the absolute best for us. And, my faithful readers, that is the kind of dad I want to be.

All right...those are just some thoughts I've had...feel free to comment. (I love getting comments.)

Tommy

Our House, in the middle of the street

Yep. We gotta house. We signed a one year lease, we get the keys next time we're in KC, and we're really excited about it. Bibi loves the three bedrooms, I love the garage, and Leo is going to LOVE the HUGE fenced-in backyard.

And baby? Well, baby's gonna love having a home all to ourselves. Baby's also gonna love the quiet residential neighborhood, the well huge shade trees, and the fact that we're not gonna have to live out of a cardboard box. (c;

Oh, and our midwife's appointment on Saturday was awesome. Everything is going along swimmingly, and as of right now the baby is entirely viable. (Which, you know, is a good thing.) We've been feeling our little one kick a LOT lately, and last night we could feel the babies legs/arms gliding under Bibi's belly. (say that three times fast: Bibi's belly, Bibi's belly, Bibi's belly. It's even hard to type fast!!!) And, let me tell you, there are few things in life MORE surreal than feeling a baby move under the momma's skin. Sheesh.

I know, I know, it's been almost, what, a fortnight since my last post? Much has happened. And, well, I don't even know where to start. So, I'll leave it up to you...

got any questions ya'll are wondering about?


Thanks for stopping by!

Tommy

Baby baby...

So, in reviewing my post from the other day, I realized that I kind of left something MASSIVE off the update. It's stupid, and I feel stupid for having done so.

Bibi is now 27 weeks. (For those of you guys out there, that's roughly 6 months along.) The baby is kicking up a storm now, and wakes Bibi a couple nights a week in her sleep. And, the weirdest part? You can actually SEE the damn thing from the outside. Yeah, that's right...it's wiggling around in there so much that you can see, with your eyes, little mounds moving around. It actually keeps reminding me of two VERY different movies.
1.) Alien, when the guy's really sick and then all of a sudden out pops the little angry alien creature spitting mad? Yeah, I keep thinkin' that's gonna happen, and it makes me very nervous.
2.) Spaceballs, the scene where the guy in the diner gets really sick and out pops the creepy little alien creature who starts singing and dancing, "hello my baby, hello my darlin', hello my ragtime girrrrrrrl...", and it makes me very, VERY happy. ( I loved Spaceballs, what can I say!)

So, yeah, the baby is coming along fine, and we're both VERY excited.

This weekend two very good friends came into town unexpectedly, and it was a wonderful surprise. John, Becki, we had a great time Saturday night and lunch was fun, too. Bibi loved getting to meet you, and we'd love to hang out again. (You know, the next time you guys are in Missouri, or we're in Indiana. (c:)

Tonight, Bibi and I had just a wonderful time after our respective jobs were done. We both came home, realized that we were hungry, didn't really want to cook, and also really, really wanted to spend some time outside because it was so nice. So, we packed a pic-a-nic and walked to a grassy knoll near our house. We took some veggie burgers, chips and dip and some grapes and a blanket, and our awesome dog, Leo. We spread out the blanket, got Leo's bone, and sat down. I was a bit nervous about having Leo on our blanket with us, but, it was so cool...Leo sat there, and didn't even TRY to get our food while we enjoyed a lovely picnic in the sun. It was simply wonderful.

And, that reminds me, what are you all looking forward to with the dawing of Spring? (And, for those of you keeping track of my music project at school, Vivaldi's "Spring" is our song-of-the-week this week. I found it fitting.)

Thanks for stopping by...

Tommy

Once again, i'm easy like Sunday morning....

Hello everyone!

So, yeah, I pretty much suck as a blogger, don't I? Haven't updated in...well, WAY too long. So, thought I'd let you all know what's been going down. So, last we talked, was back in February. (Again, sorry!!)

We had spring break, and Bibi and I went down to KC for the week. We got there Sunday, the 4th, after a wonderfully relaxing weekend, and hung out with Bibi's family for awhile. We had just a couple of goals for our week. We wanted to find a house to buy and we wanted to relax. We spent Monday driving around different areas looking at houses for sale by owners, and writing down numbers to call. We then made what seemed like an obscene number of telephone calls trying to set up walk-throughs. We looked online and tried to get contact numbers on what really WAS an obscene number of houses. We finally got a call from a REALLY excited realitor who wanted to show up two houses that we had looked into. We then drove out to where the houses were, and we were immediatly disheartened. To say that they were nothing but a crap heap with an expensive price tag would be a grave insult to all crap heaps with expensive pricetags in the world. They were disgusting; and, to be honest, the neighborhoods did not leave me with a "hey, I feel really safe here!" feeling.

So, I was feeling down, to say the least.

Tuesday we got up and decided we were going to re-energize ourselves and try again. Bibi went out to lunch with a friend, I sat outside Starbucks and read (more on that later) and at 3 we met with a much more reasonable realitor in Independence. We told her what we were looking for, what we were NOT looking for, and she came up with a folder's worth of houses that she wanted us to look at and let her know if we wanted to look through 'em. They were all MUCH nicer than the previous houses we had looked at, and they made us feel much better about our chances. In fact, two of them we almost fell in love with at first sight.

Wednesday we met with the realitor again to walk through some of the houses. The first houses we really wanted to go through was right in the low to middle of our hoped-for price range. However, the realitor called us and told us that, alas, it had been put under contract the night before. So, we couldn't look at that one. The second house was a little on the high side of our price range and was really small--it was very nice, to be sure, but WAY too small. The third house, and yes, I know I'm getting a little "Goldilocks" on you was...well, it was a little on the high side, but definitely not TOO high, and it was perfect. In fact, it was huge. It was wonderful. We wanted to play it cool, and all of our pre-approval papers were in Kville, so we told our realitor friend that we wanted to give it some careful consideration, but that we did indeed like it. The rest of the week was spent relaxing and enjoying our time in KC.

I read two books over break. "Somebodies and Nobodies" by Robert Fuller, and I'm reading "Only Revolutions" by Mark Z. Danielewski now. Somebodies and Nobodies is a www.bookcrossing.com book, and it's up for grabs if anyone wants it. It's a look at, what Fuller calls, the most pervasive source of "dignity abuse" in our world, the "cancer" that faces our world really; and that abuse is the abuse of rank in all it's myriad forms. Basically, according to the author, if you were to take all of the defining characteristics of all of the "isms" in our world, (e.g. sexism, ageism, racism, etc.) they could all be summed up as an abuse of rank, real or perceived. And the real crux of this abuse is that it by necessity deprives all humans of their one truly important need: dignity. It was interesting. So, like I said, if you're interested in it, let me know, and I'll send it your way.

"Only Revolutions" is by a very intriguing author. Danielewski is a master at writing complicated and unique novels. The construction of the texts, and the structure of the story is very unorthadox, and makes for a very unusual reading experience. The story is in two parts: One part is Sam's story. Sam is a forever sixteen year old who travels all around America with his girlfriend Hailey from the 1860's to the 1960's. The other part of the story is about a girl named Hailey who travels all around America with her boyfriend Sam from the 1960's on. But, in order to see the complexity of the structure, you need to get yourself a copy of this book. (c;

Ok, so that diversionary section was put there on purpose. I did that because after Bibi and I got back from break, as we were filling out our paperwork, we realized that with the baby coming, with the move to Kansas City, and with me not having a job lined up officially yet, buying a house right now would definitely NOT be the best choice for us. So, we're going to go back and look at some rental properties and see what our options are there.

And jobs? Well, I had a screening interview in Lee's Summit back in February and I thought it went really well. When Bibi and I came back from break there was a letter from Lee's Summit basically saying that they thought I did really well, too, and that they would be passing my information on to any schools in the district that had openings, and if they were interested in setting up an interview, the district would get in touch. (Basically, 'we'll call you'.) So, that sounds promising, but it's a wait and see kind of a situation. So, we'll wait and see. (It's Napolean's Battle Plan. I'm going to show up in KC and see what arises. Hopefully it works better for me than it did for him--I don't really want to die in exile on the island of Elba, you know?)

Ok. Well, it's getting to be time for a refill of coffee. So, you all have a great Sunday, and I promise an update before next weekend.....hopefully. (c;

Thanks for stopping by...

Tommy

Live from Kirksville...it's Weekend Update!

Well, hello out there!

How're things going?

Yeah? Oh, that sounds nice!

So, it was a great weekend.

We went to KC for a couple of reasons. On Saturday morning, I had my first job interview in the KC area. I thought it went swimmingly, and I'm really looking forward to hearing about it in the next week or so. (They send out a letter.) Stay tuned!!!

Sunday, finally, we got to meet with our midwife. That was awesome. She told us that everything is going along well, and that she thinks things are fine. We listened to the heartbeat again, and she said that she thought it sounded like a boy's. (We're not finding out, so this isn't definite, but, well, it sounded awesome. (c; )

Then we came back to Kville and we have five days left til Spring Break. We're going back to KC to look for a house. Busy, busy, busy. (c;

Still reading the Counterinsurgency Manual. I'm on the appendices, so it shouldn't be too long now. What are you reading now?

Thanks for stopping by...
Tommy

Won't Get Fooled Again!

Hey everyone! I am still alive and kicking. Things are going well here in the 'ville.

Tim, I got your message today, and I didn't get a chance to call you back. I'd love to hang out sometime soon. Let me know when you're coming up.

This weekend was a great one. Friday night I worked at Il Spazio, and Bibi was going to go back to KC for the weekend, but Friday night it started snowing, and snowing, and snowing and then it just kept right on snowing. So, Bibi did not go back to KC. After work, we hung out and called it a night fairly early. Saturday we got up and Bibi went to a meeting called "Birth Circle" for women who are recent mothers or mothers-to-be. She had fun; I, in the meantime, got some dishes done and read. (More on that later.)

Saturday night I worked again, and Sunday was a LAZY day. We watched some shows that we have taped, and just hung out. Monday I hung out at Java Co, read, and hung out with some friends. (It was wonderful.)

Last night--Monday night--Bibi and I wanted to try out a new recipe, so we got out one of our cookbooks, and made a traditional Irish dish called Colcannon. It was deli-wait for it!!--cious.

All right. So, now on to the literary updates.

Apparently the book that I talked about last time, the Newberry Award winner, has caused quite a stir on the internet. And, as it's getting a lot of buzz, I don't feel too bad naming the book here. It was called "The Higher Power of Lucky" by Susan Patron. And, if you google it, you'll find all manner of arguments regarding its value as a book because of it's use of the word scrotum. Now, I don't know if I stated my feelings clearly enough last week, so I'll say them again here....the word scrotum is not what I have a problem with. The fact that this book was recognized as the best of the best for children's literature is what I have a problem with. (It's just not that good.)

And, what am I reading now, you may ask? (Ok, so, maybe you don't care what I'm reading now. If not, then why in the world are you still reading? That's what this blog is about!) I just picked up a copy of Lt. General David Petraeus' "Counterinsurgency Manual" for the United States Army. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the name, he was just made the head honcho of all the troops in Iraq, and last summer he wrote a new version of the counterinsurgency manual for all the armed forces. I thought I would check it out, as he has some pretty revolutionary theories on fighting the insurgency in Iraq (i.e.: making the Iraqi people secure is a task that will require something more than just bullets and tanks, and that in order to successfully complete the tast ahead of our troops, our number one goal is to put the Iraqi people in charge of their own future.) In know...wild, isn't it?

All right, so let me leave you all with a thought: Last week the House of Representatives debated (fairly pathetically) the issue of whether or not to pass a non-binding resolution against President Bush's troop surge plan. The senate wasn't even able to debate it, and the proposed vote failed. Now, here are my questions: 1) What the hell good is a "non-binding resolution?, and 2) Isn't it the job of the American people to protest when they disagree with the actions of their government, and isn't it the job of the government to, you know, actually DO something about it, instead of attempting to pass purely symbolic, and in reality absolutely meaningless "resolutions"?

Your thoughts....

(Thanks for stopping by!!)

Tommy

Easy like Sunday morning....

Greetings readers!

The end of the week was good. Thursday night Bibi and I made chocolate chip cookies and they were good.

Friday was good as well. I went to work (I'm back at Il Spazio) and then Bibi and I went to a get together for some of her sorority sisters, and that was fun. Saturday we just hung out with a friend who came over to work with me on my iPod. (Good stuff--thanks Dan!!). Then, we cleaned up a little around the house, and I went to work again. It was a really weird, slow night.

During all of these things, I was reading a new book. On Friday I finished "You Suck" by Christopher Moore, and it was succulent. (Har dee har har.) However, I needed a new book, and so I went to talk to my school librarian. She was excited to see me, because we often talk about new kids books and developments in the realm of children's lit. So, here's the deal...

There's this new book. I don't want to be too specific, but it is the 2007 Newberry Award winner. (That means that it is being acknowledged as the best of books written specifically for children.) However, in the first page there are references to decidedly un-childlike topics. And, on page nine, the entire page is dedicated to that same topic. At first glance, having only seen those two pages, I was chagrined and taken aback. See, I'm not for censorship AT ALL. However, common sense has to play a huge part in determining whether or not a given reading material is appropriate for a specific age group. I was really, really torn. There are a lot of factors to consider: value of the rest of the piece, importance of the questionable material in context, and the literary "worth" of the piece as a whole. For example, I feel that Huck Finn, an unbelievably excellent book, is important as a whole because the use of the controversial "n word" is purposeful and designed to highlight the hypocracy of racism in general, and slavery specifically.

So, I read the book. And, here are my conclusions: While the book deals with some excellent topics, i.e.: abandonment, death, belonging, redemption, family, finding one's "higher power" and making responsible decisions, just to name a few, it does so in a way that does not redeem the use of the questionable material. It's good, but...it's not THAT good. I think that it is appropriate for older kids, and since my kids are the oldest kids in my school, and the book would be available to younger, less emotionally mature kids, it probably isn't the best option to put it in our library, but placing it at the middle school would be a good choice.

So, here's my question for you....

Censorship...a necessary evil, or needlessly draconian administrative micromanagement tool? And, are there any books that you've read that should, or should NOT have been censored?

Discuss....