Like a scene from a (lesser) Tennessee Williams play

As O and I were walking today, we strolled past the following scene:

A YOUNG MAN and YOUNG WOMAN stood on the sidewalk in front of a house. An OLDER MAN stood on the porch.

OLDER MAN: I have rules.

YOUNG MAN: I respect that, sir.

OLDER MAN: Rules.

YOUNG MAN: Yes, sir.

OLDER MAN: I don't -- I don't want to be running a whore house.

YOUNG MAN (earnest): No, sir!

And then, thankfully, we were out of ear shot.

It's like a Thanksgiving present to myself

My wife and I decided to stay home today rather than travel to see family for Thanksgiving. That meant it was going to fall to me to make a Turkey and all the trimmings. That's just how things go in the Kreutz Gallardo household. I'm fine with it. I like to cook, and I'm good at it, so I really don't mind. But I had made myself a little crazy over the last few days because I'd never made a turkey before. I think I devoted more time to researching roasting techniques than I have on any piece of homework so far this semester. (If my advisor is reading this, that's hyberbole!) I'd also never made stuffing or from-scratch giblet gravy. Even more time spent researching.

But you can all rest easy, everything (except the stuffing) came out fine. Great, in fact! Not to toot my own own horn, but I think that turkey ranked up there with the top five turkeys I've ever eaten. And, because it was just the three of us -- and one of us is a two-year-old -- we have tons of leftovers. Yes. And it may have gone well, and not been as difficult as I imagined it would be, but I was still confined to the kitchen all day. And the last hour was a mad dash to make sure everything came out at roughly the same time. The point I'm trying to make here is that I felt the need to indulge myself. I'd suggested renting a movie, but my wife didn't feel up to it.

So I wrote. I made a public statement on this forum two days ago that I would be taking Wednesday and Thursday off from writing. That, I can now tell you, was a lie. I am apparently in a place where writing is something I do when I want to treat myself. Who knew I'd ever get there? I feel like mI'm a long ways from the days when staring at the blank screen would just about reduce me to tears. And I may very well get back there again, but I'm enjoying it while I'm able.

I just wrote 1,000+ words on the short story I'm writing. I'd been experiencing some frustration with this story. I had a beginning I liked, and I was pretty sure I knew where I wanted it to end up. It was that pesky middle part that I couldn't figure out. Well, t seems to be coming together now. Hopefully I'll wrap it up the first draft over the weekend.

And now I'll give myself another Thanksgiving present and send myself to bed.

That photo, by the way, was taken by my wife and is of my son regarding the thing that kept his dad from playing with him all day long.

Here are today's numbers:

Daily word count: 1,073 (all on the short story)

Monthly word count: 26,508 (21,419 novel, 5,089 story)

Novel word count: 92,923 (unchanged)

O + AW 4EVER

I'm up late writing this evening because earlier, Melissa and I were irresponsible awesome parents and we drove Oscar an hour South to Eugene so we could all go watch Allison Weiss play live. Allison Weiss is a big deal in our house and Oscar often demands that we play her music. (Actually, given his two-year-old soft palate, he demands that we play "Al Wise.") Ms Weiss, who hails from Brooklyn, is touring the West coast with her friends Bess Rogers and Lelia Broussard, both of whom are very talented in their own rights.

We were also lucky because our friend, Eugene musician, Dan Jones, was able to join us for dinner and the show.

As we walked into the venue, Oscar started marching around, asking very loudly where Al Wise was. I had seen them on the sidewalk outside unloading their equipment. He wanted to go and see them. Who are we as parents to deny out son (read: I wanted to meet her, too)? Here's a tip to anyone who wants to introduce themselves to three lovely young ladies: have a cute-as-hell two-year-old with you. They thought he was very cute, indeed.

Especially when he was able to tell Ms Weiss the title of his favorite song. It's "Let Me Go" for the record.

The cuteness continued to build to dangerous levels once the show got under way. Oscar stood right in front of the stage, danced and sang along with her set. And then we got pictures and her signature on two of her CDs. Besides being crazy talented, she's also nice and gracious. I think it was well worth the travel and the fact that we kept Oscar up past his bed time. We'll remember it for a long time to come.

Unfortunately, we couldn't stay to see either Bess Rogers or Lelia Broussard perform. O had reached the end of his tether and we needed to leave before a screaming tantrum wiped away all those cute memories. All in all, an excellent night.

And now, here are the numbers.

Daily word count: 1,622 (1,082 novel, 540, story)

Monthly word count: 19,120 (16,339, 2,781 story)

Novel word count: 87,840

Boost

I work a part-time job Thursday through Saturday. It's those days when I knew reaching my daily writing goal would the most difficult. On Thursday and Friday, I watch my son all day long and only hand him off to my wife as I am on my way to work. After that I work until late and then come home to write. Sometimes I get some work done if he naps really well in the afternoon, but that's far from a given. And I also use my breaks at work to peck away at my writing, but, again, it's rare that I am able to get my daily goal that way.

Today I didn't get home until just before midnight. Beat from a full day with my son and a nearly full work day at the job. I really wondered how I'd have it in me to finish what I need to. Then my wife showed me something my son had wanted me to have. It's a business card-sized piece of paper. My son dictated a note to me for my wife to transcribe. He then ordered her to place it under my pillow for me to find.

In case you can't read the writing in the photo, it says:

"Daddy,

This is a

surprise for

Halloween.

Good morning!

Good night.

I love my

Daddy.

Oscar"

After seeing that, I felt like I could stay up as long as I needed to to make this happen.

And here's the daily word count:

Words for the day: 1,127

Words for the month: 5,660

If I am able to reach 7,000 words tomorrow (a not-unreasonable goal) then I'll be taking Sunday off from new writing to work on the revisions for a short story.

Walkabout

Three weeks ago tomorrow, on August 6, Oscar took his first steps. Just two or three tentative steps between Melissa and me. He did it again the next morning. And then nothing for three weeks.

Until last night. Standing in a church parking lot talking with some friends, I decided to set him down and see what he'd do, and he tore off. I fear there is now no stopping him. Earlier today he was able to get up from a seated position on the floor and stand and then take off. Both Melissa and I feel like our lives are all changed in some fundamental way. It's both scary and exciting.

But here's a very short video of the little man in action. Enjoy!

Videos

Apparently I have abdicated the chronicling of our son's young life to my wife. Over at her blog, post post partum, Melissa posted several recent videos of the Sprout. Go and watch, and be prepared for cuteness overload.

Even more photos

Plenty of new photos, most of these centered around Melissa and Oscar's birthday open house, up on our flickr page.

Happy birthday, Oscar!

Today is Oscar's first birthday. We took him to a local bookstore, then spent some time at A. C. Gilbert's Discovery Village. A nice, relaxing birthday.

Many new photos, including lots from today, are up at our flickr page.

Happy birthday, mister, I love you like crazy.

The elephant in the room (in a manner of speaking)

I think I caught a glimpse of my future today.

I was walking alone downtown, caught behind a family of four who refused to make room for anyone (meaning me) to pass. No big deal. There was mom, dad, a boy about twelve or so and another about three, I'd guess. The two boys, as is the wont of boys, seemed lost in their own little world and couldn't be bothered to notice anything but each other. It was actually entertaining to watch them.

I noticed that walking up the street toward us was a one-legged man on crutches. I was worried that the kids wouldn't see him. But then the mom and dad peeled off left and the kids didn't notice until their parents yelled out for them to keep up. At this point, they snapped out of their reverie and looked around them and they saw the one-legged man go striding past and the three-year-old turned and, mouth agape, yelled out, "that man... his leg is broken!"

I winced a little, but kept on walking. I didn't want to listen to whatever explanation the parents would have for the boy. And as I walked, I started to wonder what I would do in a similar situation, and I know there will probably be plenty of similar situations.

How do you explain to a little one that it's not polite to say such things? I mean, if everyone already knows that the man is missing a leg, then what possible harm could there be in saying it out loud? How does one learn to distinguish between an attribute one might be proud of and one that a body would rather go unmentioned? I have to admit that I still have problems with that at times. I generally err on the side of never mentioning at all that one might possibly deviate from the generally perceived norm.

It's been my experience that having discussions of this type wit children leads to an endlessly recursive loop of Whys. As in:

It's not polite to say such things.

Why?

Because that man may be sensitive about his missing leg.

Why?

Because it's not nice to be pointed at and be made to feel different.

Why?

Ad infinitum.

I'm not going to posit any answers here, I really am wondering what I'll do when we come to that uncomfortable bridge. My one hope is that Oscar will give me a couple of years before doing what comes natural to kids everywhere: stating the obvious simply because it is just that.

Beat to the punch

Oscar got his first haircut over the weekend. I was going to write about it here, but the better half of the Kreutz Gallardo team, better known as The Wife, got to it first. You should visit her blog for lots of photos and play-by-play.

Adventures in parenting

Oscar's development really seems to be accelerating at a pretty amazing clip. I think it's my job not not to be distracted by those changes from my main job. You know, making sure he doesn't hurt himself. Or, even better, actively hurting him.

Something Oscar started doing just today is sitting up with his legs folded underneath him. Please see the accompanying illustration. I decided I wanted to get a photo of Oscar doing thisd new thing and send it to Melissa. Documenting his development and sending the photographic evidence to Melissa at work. I was so concerned with lining up the shot that I didn't really notice Oscar tipping over backward until I heard the huge thump. I actually felt the shock wave travel through the floor. And then Oscar was wailing.

I picked him up and cradled him and did my best to comfort him, and I managed to curse myself while I did it. He stopped crying and struggling to get out of my arms-- a sure sign he was okay. I set him on the floor and picked up his favorite toy (a toy video camera that makes a whole plethora of electronic noises -- thanks, Stephanie!) intending to give it to Oscar. What I did, however, was drop the toy and hit Oscar square in the mouth. Renewed wailing ensued as did the self-recriminations.

It felt like forever before I could soothe Oscar again. So I had lots of time to kick myself over this. I know that I can't always stop every accident that Oscar has, but, man, it really killed me to be the cause of two of them in one day. In the space of ten minutes.

Not to worry, however. Oscar was just fine. As seen in photo #2: We played safely the rest of the day. Tomorrow, helmet shopping!

I'll get some sleep soon,right?

Oscar turned nine-months old today! Nine months he's been in our lives. Granted he was in our lives prior to that but, for me at least, in a sort of theoretical way.

I think I've said this before, but it bears repeating: I could not have imagined how much I am loving being a dad. The time I get to spend with Oscar is the best use of my time ever -- possibly excluding the time he was being made.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Back in action?

This week I seem to have regained something that I set aside for a while. Anyone who reads this blog regularly--well, anyone who reads it regularly would know that it's been a while since it was updated on anything resembling a regular basis, and that was part of it. "It" being an unwillingness to take the time needed to maintain my writing.

I don't want this next bit to sound like I'm blaming my son for this lack of drive, because that's very far from the truth. But I did exchange the writing drive for a willingness to observe Oscar and all of the changes he's been going through for the last few months. I've been able to watch him go from a bundle of cuteness who seemed undifferentiated from other babies his age to a little person who is starting, in a very rudimentary way, his likes and dislikes, desires and preferences.

I'm figuring out, with his help, which games, toys, and songs delight him; and which he could do without. It seems like just a couple of months ago that his movement was limited to rolling over--and sometimes he got stuck on his belly and needed a helping hand to return to his back--and now he's crawling backward with pretty impressive speed and can crawl forward with a lot of effort using the arm-over-army Army crawl method.

I feel so lucky. I know that for one reason or another, most dads don't get to see this evolution in their kids. And my new-found devotion (or is that newly re-found?) to writing isn't going to take away from my watching it with Oscar. Where a lot of my free time went to reading or trolling the web, I've lately been using that same free time to actually working. To that end, I had a good week: I got three proposals into shape (enough that I felt comfortable sending them off to one of my managers to read and critique), I started notes on an idea that's been kicking around in my head for a couple of years, and I got a start on the next chapter of 100 Girls. For those keeping score, I wrote chapter eight a couple of months ago and sent it off to Todd; Today I started in on chapter nine.

All in all, not a bad bit of business. I really hope I can keep it up.

Film at 11.

The wife, who is a better human than myself, has beat me to the punch where posting videos of our offspring is concerned. Go and watch the first one and prepare to need an insulin shot when you're done. And for those who are wondering: yes, that sound you hear at about the :20 second mark is our son blowing a respectable fart.

Your Oscar update

Despite the fact that he's nearly seven months old, Oscar had his six month checkup today. He's doing swell, thanks. The doctor walked into the exam room and nearly shouted, "Oh, he's so gorgeous" There was more to the exam than this, of course. We asked many questions we had and the doctor did her best to assure us that nothing is really out of the ordinary with the little man.

The highlight, for Melissa and me, was the Weighing and Measuring of the Baby. He weighed in at 18 lbs, 5.5 oz, which is in the 55th percentile; and his height, or length since he's mostly horizontal these days, was 27.5 inches, which is in the 76th percentile.

Today was also the day Oscar received his first vaccination -- given that Oscar breast feeds and is cared for at home and therefore has little contact with other babies, Melissa and I decided to delay the start of the vaccination process. We'd been worried about how Oscar would react to the shot. Basically, we didn't want to see Oscar cry in pain. We needn't have worried. The nurse rubbed down his thigh with alcohol, which certainly got Oscar's attention since it's so cold, then she stuck him with the needle. Oscar looked at his thigh with the needle in it with a certain concerned curiosity. Then the needle cme out and a bandage was applied and about five seconds later, Oscar was giggling and just as happy as he ever is. He is amazing.

Below, are two photos: the bandage on his (ample) thigh, and him smiling right after the shot.



A few more recent photos can be found on our flickr page.

This concludes your Oscar update.

A half-birthday is so a thing...

This is just to say: Oscar turned six months old today! He's been outside the womb and in our lives for SIX MONTHS. Who'd believe it?

I have to say this. Prior to having Oscar, I was pretty ambivalent about having offspring. Umm... Ambivalent to hostile, actually. I also never wanted to get married, either. Then I met Melissa, and wanted nothing but to get married. And then I wanted to have a wee one with her, and that led to Oscar. I could never have imagined the rush of love I feel for him, and for the life he's given me. I've been trying to think lately exactly what this feeling is, and the closest I've been able to come to it is this: I feel like a broken vessel, unable to contain all of the joy within me. Everthing that I used to do for selfish reason (i.e., achieve success in comics; move on to other, more lucrative forms of writing; travel), I now either no longer want to do, or I want to do them, but only because it means that it will lead to greater security for my family. I believe that it would be impossible to explain to someone without children what this feels like.

So, happy half-birthday, little Mister. I can't wait to see all the things we can accomplish.

An apple a day....

Tomorrow, that is, Wednesday, October 1, will be the start of the fifth week of my being sick.

I went to the doctor's again today and finally had some chest x-rays and blood work done. The x-rays came back clear (despite the phlegm I've been coughing up for the last week-and-a-half), and the blood work shows that I have an unspecified virus. This is annoying in the extreme. I want a disease I can name, put my finger on, and irradicate. I've been ill for more than a month now. More than a month of zero energy, chills, sweats, aches, coughing; more than a month where I've barely been able to care for Oscar (all of that has fallen to Melissa, despite her full-time schedule at work) and where I have written not a word.

I just want it to go away. The doctor says that if it's still around in another week, he wants to schedule more aggressive testing.

If you have any positive thoughts to spare, could you send 'em my way?

Hand me now my walkin' shoes

So, it looks like Oscar and I will be making our first trip together (and without Melissa) up to Portland tomorrow. The Portland Business Journal will be doing a photo shoot for a story about the new Creative Conference and the program coordinator asked if I could make the trip up to be a part of it.

I am a little scared to be flying solo with The Mister, but I think it should go well. And maybe we can slip in a trip to Powell's?

Wish us luck.

Inconceivable

Somehow my lovely wife beat me to the punch and is the first to put video up on her blog. Not that I'm upset or anything. >seethes<

Anyway, You should visit this post and watch a short video of my two favorite humans.

Briefly

Today will be the first day that Oscar and I go it alone without support from Melissa. Wish us luck.

Also, The Mister weighed in at 14.8 lbs yesterday at the doctor's office. He's getting bigger and bigger all the time.

More later...