The White Sheep of the Family

May 31, 2011 at 6:16 am , by 

Six months.

Jack may have been born as a Mexican baby, but he has gradually morphed into a little Norwegian boy.  The supreme irony is that when Jack was born, he almost looked too dark to be my son.  Six months later, it’s the opposite situation.

If you grew up in the late 1980′s and early 1990′s, then by default one of your favorite sitcoms was Full House.  And whenever you think of Uncle Jesse, you think of his awesome video for “Forever” where he is wearing a black leather vest while in a bathtub surrounded by candles.  Also featured in the music video were Jesse and Rebecca’s twin sons, Nicky and Alex.

For me, I was always distracted by the fact that a dark featured Greek guy and a normal complected woman with reddish brown hair would have sons that had blonde hair, blue eyes, and light skin.  I already had enough trouble believing that Danny Tanner would have three daughters with blondish hair when he himself had black hair (Bob Saget is Jewish in real life) with their mother who was also Greek; she was Jesse’s sister.  But light featured kids don’t come from dark featured parents, especially when there is a Mediterranean bloodline… I thought to myself for 20 years.

When Jack was born, and in the month or so to follow, he was a Mexican.  His skin was darker than mine, his hair was jet black, and his general features just simply looked Hispanic, or at least Italian. That’s because my maternal grandmother, Delores “Lola” Mendez is a dark-featured Mexican from Buffalo, New York and my Italian grandfather, Albert Metallo, was a dark featured Italian from Kenosha, Wisconsin.

In fact, when you climb both sides of the family tree (both my wife’s and mine) you continually find dark haired people with dark eyes. But there is the fact that my wife’s paternal grandfather was a Norwegian orphan adopted by an American family, who married an indentured servant from Ireland.  In other words, despite the influx of “dark genes”, Jack evidently adopted the underdog “lighter” genes.

My wife and I have a blonde haired, blue eyed son with porcelain skin.  He’s sort of the “white sheep” in the family. And now that he’s officially six months old, the age at which a baby’s eye color remains permanent (based on what I’ve read), we now know it’s official.  Granted, I realize there’s a good chance that the older Jack gets, the darker his hair will get.  He may not always be blonde, but he will always have lighter skin than his parents who have a subtle olive complexion (skin with yellow and green undertones).  And people will always ask us, “Where’d that boy of yours get those pretty, deep blue eyes?”

Knowing me, I’ll probably reference Nicky and Alex from Full House every time I answer that question.

Pictured below:

1) The Four Generations of Shell in December 2010; my grandfather Shell is sitting in the middle, holding my son Jack, in between my dad and me.

2) The Four Generations of Metallo/Mendez in January 2011; my grandmother Metallo is sitting in the middle, in between my mom and me.

3) In May 2011, Jack is holding a sign that reads, “I am 6 months old today.”

*To get a better idea of just how different Jack used to look, look on the right side of the screen and click on the archives.  Start at November 2010, the month he was born.

God Only Knows What I’d Be Without You

May 29, 2011 at 10:36 pm , by 

Six months.

There is a reason why the sentimental song “God Only Knows” by The Beach Boys  is always playing in the back of this dad and husband’s subconscious. Truthfully, I have to acknowledge that the days of my life are ultimately numbered; as are my wife’s and son’s.  And that’s why I just can’t take one single day for granted.

If I’m being really honest, I might have to admit the song has at least made my eyes water more than once or a few dozen times, but only because of the deep and heavy subject matter that it always makes me think about. And I may or may not be the only person who has the same kinds of thoughts when I hear the song; I don’t know.

It ranked #25 on Rolling Stonelist of the 500 greatest songs of all time. Released in 1966, the song was one of the very first pop songs to reference God in its title, though it was not necessarily a religious song.  No doubt about it: “God Only Knows“ by The Beach Boys has remained one of my favorite songs, ever since I first heard it twenty years ago on the 1991 episode of The Wonder Years, entitled “Heartbreak.”

While its nostalgic mood and melancholy emotion are what have always grabbed me, it wasn’t until a few months ago when my wife and I decided to watch the entire series of HBO’s Big Love (via Netflix) that I began to consider the value of the lyrics.  The show features “God Only Knows” as its theme song, so a few times everyday for a few months, I was exposed to the powerful song.

It’s very possible to love “God Only Knows” without actually understanding the meaning of the lyrics.  Admittedly, the lyrics do seem to be a bit confusing and conflicting. For example, the first line is, “I may not always love you but long as there are stars above you, you never need to doubt it-I’ll make you so sure about it.”  Up until recently, I just assumed the speaker was doubting the future of his relationship with the woman he loved at that point in his life.

But the only conditional phrase in the sentence is “as long as there are stars above you.” The reference is to the love of his life still being alive.  If the stars are above you, you are on Earth. If the stars are below you, you are in Heaven.

So as long as the two of them are still alive together on Earth, he will always love her. Because despite the grandiose idea that two people can romantically love each other forever and be married eternally, the popular rabbi Jesus taught his followers that “in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels of God in heaven.” Though it’s difficult for me to grasp and to deal with, I realize I will only romantically love my wife in this life, not the afterlife as well.

So much hangs on that phrase “as long as there are stars above you,” when looked at from an eternal (and Christianized) viewpoint.  I want to be married to my wife forever, not until one or both of us dies.  So when I think about how my romantic love for her is limited to this life and this Earth, it makes me sad.  And the song “God Only Knows” always points that out to me.

There is one other particular line in the song that I thought was peculiar: “If you should ever leave me, though life would still go on believe me, the world could show nothing to me so what good would living do me?”

My interpretation is that the lyricist is saying suicide would not be an option for him if she died before he did, but in essence, life would lose its flavor and he would have to essentially find a new purpose in life.  Because she ishis life.

I think about that concept; probably nearly everyday.  Yes, I have been blessed with my ideal wife and one magical son, but for how long?  I don’t sit around and worry myself sick about them, knowing that any of us could encounter an accident or random freak medical condition or unseen poisonous spider bite.  But in the deepest of subconscious ways, there is a part of me that does always worry about something happening to them, or myself.

I just can’t imagine my life without my wife and my son.  Yes, my eyes are watering as I type these words.  So what can I do?  I can make sure through my actions, communication, time, and presence, that they know how much I love them. That they are truly, literally the world to me.  With or without the stars being above us.

The Dadabase

“This Close” to Being Mr. Mom

May 28, 2011 at 10:59 pm , by 

Six months.

Hold me closer, Tony Danza.

When my wife and I moved from Nashville back to my hometown in Alabama a few weeks after our son was born in November 2010, we spent the next four months not only learning how to take care of a baby but also constantly looking for jobs. At first, we were just trying to find a job for myself.

But as the months progressed and Baby Jack’s behavior was becoming more predictable and had switched solely to formula (instead of also relying on breast milk), my wife decided to start looking for a job as well- as we were getting desperate for income.  We figured if nothing else, she could get a job first, then eventually I could.

She had just got her Master’s degree in Childhood Education and had spent the past couple of years working for the glorious Vanderbilt University.  It started occurring to me that my wife probably had a more impressive resume than I did. After about a week of applying for jobs, my wife was called back about a job she applied for.  This particular job paid $20,000 more a year than what the average man makes in this city.  If she got the job, there would be no financial need for me to work too.

We didn’t want to get our hopes up though- for anyone else who has experienced recent unemployment, you probably relate to being constantly disappointed each time a new opportunity arises.  My wife was told by the potential employer that it was between her and nearly a dozen other people.  Then a few days later, it was between her a few others.  Eventually, it was between just my wife and one other person.

Well, for whatever unknown reason, my wife didn’t get the job.  I miraculously did get a job at the very last minute, right as we had come to the reality that the best option for us was to move back to Nashville.  The exact same week I was hired for my sales job at the playground equipment company I work for, I was informed I had officially been chosen as the daddy blogger for Parents.com.  In other words, though I was completely willing to become “Mr. Mom” and had no problem at all with my wife making the moulah while I stayed at home with the baby, it never happened.

I never become the updated version of  the 1983 Michael Keaton, overloading the washing machine with soap and having bubbles flood the laundry room.  Just imagine how uber authentic The Dadabase could have been if I was a stay-at-home dad.  I could have been like Tony Danza on Who’s the Boss?, wearing an apron and vacuuming the curtains.  Yes, just as my wife is completely qualified and capable of being the one who goes out everyday into the work force outside the home, I could have been a stay-at-home dad.  And man would I have been cool for that.

But fortunately, she and I both got what we really wanted.  I get to go out and assist the sells of playgrounds to elementary schools, city parks, churches, and Jewish communities centers.  And my wife gets to do all those things here on the home front which exhaust and intimidate me daily.  I make a better Mr. Dad than I do a Mr. Mom.  So to the Mr. Mom’s out there, you impress me.  And to the stay-at-home moms out there, you obviously amaze me too.

I was this close (implying that I am making a pinching-like gesture with my thumb and pointer finger to measure a half an inch) to being Mr. Mom.  But my wife didn’t get the job and I got one instead.  I could have done it, but I didn’t have to. And that’s a good thing because I would rather leave the tougher job, of staying home with the baby and taking care of the house, to the professional: my wife.

For Better AND for Worse; Marriage and Parenthood

May 24, 2011 at 3:33 pm , by 

Six months.

One of my favorite movies of all time is Vanilla Sky, starring Tom Cruise, Cameron Diaz, and Penelope Cruz.  Most people I know have never even seen it, or if they have, they didn’t “get it.”  But for me, it’s one of those rare beautiful movies that helps me appreciate life more every time I watch it. My favorite quote from Vanilla Sky is said by Jason Lee, who plays Brian Shelby:

“You can do whatever you want with your life, but one day you’ll know what love truly is. It’s the sour and the sweet. And I know sour, which allows me to appreciate the sweet.”

Life is not typically so permanently polarized one way or the other.  There are good days and bad days.  There are days when by default it’s easier to focus on the negative, which coincidentally are the times I realize my thoughts are very self-centered.  And of course there are days when by default it’s easier to focus on the positive, which unsurprisingly are often the times I realize my thoughts are focused outwardly- towards others and the world outside of my head.  On top of how negatively or positively or inwardly or outwardly each day is going, there are additionally daily circumstantial events which often direct how life will be that particular day.

So for me, the phrase “for better or for worse” in our traditional marriage ceremonies misses the mark a bit.  Because the reality of marriage is that there are “better days,” “worse days,” and all of what’s in between.  ”For better or for worse” almost implies that life will either turn out one way or the other.  Sure, there are extreme better or worse ways life could turn out, but likely, life will be filled with both better and worse times- not either/or.

But whereas whom we marry is completely our own choice (at least in America it is), my son didn’t choose to be born into this world.  Ultimately, my wife and I had a major part in making that decision.  I am Jack’s father, for better and for worse.  There will be a lot of things I do right in parenting him.  And there will be plenty of times, when despite my best efforts, I fall short or even fail completely.

It helps knowing that even my best will be nowhere near perfect and that even my worst will be nowhere near tragic.  I am a dad, for better and for worse.  For sweet and for sour.

 

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Gradually, Not Instantly, Falling in Love with My Son

May 23, 2011 at 10:14 am , by 

Six months.

I love you, man…

It’s funny how, despite being married to my beautiful wife, I am also in love with a dude.

The dude I’m referring to happens to be a vegetarian (because he has no teeth yet) and wears diapers.  I love him so much that whenever I leave the house, I carry him around in his little throne, which conveniently attaches to a base unit in my car. (Thank you, Chicco).

I guess there was this preconceived idea (planted in my head from people who are evidently more emotional and dramatic than I am) that when I saw my son Jack for the first time, I would cry, holding him in my arms.  Or at least break out in song with Creed’s 2000 hit, “With Arms Wide Open.”  But I didn’t.  Probably because I had just survived watching my wife Jill endure 18 hours of labor- the first 14 hours of that without any kind of pain reliever.  So at 8:50 PM on November 16th, 2010, my reserve of emotion was gone.  I was just glad that both Jack and Jill were alright.

As I document my fatherly perspective here on The Dadabase, I promise to always be completely honest.  I don’t believe in sugar coating or romanticizing the joys of parenthood to make people feel good or to try to subconsciously instill this subliminal idea that I’m some kind of Superdad, which is something I am overly aware that I am not.  Instead, I write so that people can relate to real life parenting and know that it’s okay to have real life feelings about this stuff. Therefore, I will admit, the love I now have for my son wasn’t instant.

Because at first, it was just a matter of survival, with the constant feedings and lack of sleep and not knowing what to do.  Plus, my wife and I moved out of state with our son while he was barely three weeks old.  Then, I was unemployed for the next four months, frantically trying to find a new job.  But now that the smoke has cleared and I have had the chance to get to know this little guy, I can say without a doubt: I am absolutely in love with him!

Sure, I felt super responsible for him since the moment he was born.  But I didn’t have all these warm fuzzy feelings about him right away.  Maybe in part, because as males, he and I had to bond first.  We didn’t really know each other.  I wasn’t wired with the motherly instincts my wife was.  First I had to figure out what to do with Mr. Baby Dude- because it’s hard for me do anything and feel good about it if I totally don’t know what I’m doing already.

But four months of unemployment is a good way to bond with an infant.  And now, I totally have warm fuzzy feelings about him.  Throughout the day at work, I look at our family portrait on my desk and think about how blessed I am to have such a sweet and thoughtful wife, as well as an adorable and hilarious baby son.  I am in love with them both; obviously in different and relevant ways.  There’s no shame at all in admitting I am totally in love with not only a beautiful woman named Jill, as well as a handsome little fella named Jack.