dad from day one: Proud Papa

Twenty weeks.

*Did you hear about this blog from American Baby magazine?  If so, click here to get to the main page (table of contents) for “dad from day one”.  There’s a whole lot more where this come from…

During the closing credits of my favorite movie of all time, I Love You, Man, Barry (Jon Favreau) finds out his wife Denise (Jamie Pressly) is pregnant after she vomits on him at the wedding reception.  With puke on his shirt, he says to her, “Please, try to make it a boy.”  Barry is a Type A jerk, inhabiting every memory and idea of a typical beer-guzzling frat boy.  So of course, having a boy (instead of a girl) would be very important to him.

Being that I’m nothing like that character in the movie, instead being much more like the main character, Peter Klaven (Paul Rudd), I had just always assumed I would have all daughters.  Here’s the picture I had in my head of my future family: Me, wifey, three daughters, and two Cockapoos (or Labradoodles).

It just makes more sense that a guy who has no interest (or talent whatsoever) in sports or hunting (or anything proving I’m man enough by showing my “game face”), but instead has always been enthralled in everything artistic (drawing, entertaining, acting, singing, songwriting, writing) would somehow automatically make a better father to daughters instead of sons.  So that’s part of the reason I was so authentically surprised to learn that our baby is a boy.  Like somehow I deserved a son less because I’m not a certain macho stereotype I’ve memorized from three decades of watching sitcoms and movies.

And now, I have to admit, there’s a part of me that can’t help but laugh that without any preconceived hopes or crossed fingers, I get what every man secretly hopes for- a son.  There’s an unspoken concept (at least in my mind) that raising a son is a rite of passage for a man.  A coveted elective course, a special honorary badge, an engraved trophy so easily received- to be a father to a son.  A chance not so much to relive my own life, but to enhance another future man with all the life experience and knowledge I’ve learned the hard way.

The movie I Love You, Man is built around the fact that male friendships and bonds don’t often come so easily.  By a man having a son, he is automatically given that opportunity- to nurture a male the way every boy and man craves to be taught and directed.  What I lack in knowledge of fixing cars and football statistics and home repairs, I can make up for in teaching healthy communication skills and anything that falls under that categories of “literary”, “artistic”, “psychological”, and “entertainment”.

In other words, I have a feeling I will be raising  the likeness of a future Jewish comedic actor, maybe the next Joseph Gordon-Levitt, the next Shia LaBeouf, the next James Franco…

A well-rounded people-person who is confident in who he is, that’s who I predict he will become.  Who knows?  Maybe he’ll be a quiet, mild-mannered, studious, future accountant.  But with a dad as quirky and Hawaiian-shirt-wearing as me, I just don’t think he has a chance of being anything like Clark Kent.

Here’s what The Bump says about Week 20:

Baby’s digestive system is busy creating meconium (a tarry black substance made of swallowed amniotic fluid, digestive secretion and dead cells), which will fill the first diaper after birth. And, speaking of the diaper situation… baby’s genitals are now fully formed!

To return to the “dad from day one” main page, click here.

All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:

Blog- www.photojoeblog.com

Website- www.joehendricks.com

Animalspeak Volume 3

Twenty-two years ago (November 1987) in our first grade class, my teacher Ms. Sparks gave us all a blank sheet of paper and told us to draw a picture of something we were thankful for.  I was excited.  Thirty minutes later, our teacher walked by everyone’s desk to see the art we had accomplished.  As she came closer to me, I heard her reading off what each of my fellow students said they were thankful for.

“My family.”  “My friends.”  “My parents.”  “My sister.”  “My brother.”

Those were the things I was hearing.  As I looked up from my drawing, I started to realize that maybe mine was a little bit different that everyone else’s.  Ms. Sparks looked down at my picture.  “Animals.”  I was six year-old at the time, but I somehow was keen enough to notice that she that my drawing was weird.

“Yes, animals.  We can be thankful for the animals.”  She went on to the next student, trying to hide the confused look on her face.

I had drawn a picture of a picnic table.  On top of the table were several live animals: a fox, a raccoon, a cat, a bird, a dog, a possum, a squirrel, and I want to say… a horse.  (I really liked the Nick at Nite reruns of Mr. Ed back then.)  At the top of the page, I appropriately titled my masterpiece with an orange crayon:  ANIMALS.

 

Not necessarily animals that I ate.  Just animals.  I had a pet goldfish that I had won a few weeks before at the fair that I named Nippy.  (It was cold outside when I tossed the ping-pong ball in the goldfish bowl.)  But that was really the only exposure I had to animals.  No other pets than Nippy the Goldfish.

I’m still trying to figure out why all these random animals would show up on a picnic table and why I was thankful for them.  Kids are weird.

 

Animalspeak Table of Contents

Volume 1 http://wp.me/pxqBU-f2
Volume 2 http://wp.me/pxqBU-f8
Volume 3 http://wp.me/pxqBU-gu