Life & Times of a New Dad

Take Him Out to the Ballgame: K-Man's First Game

Giants pitcher, Jonathan Sanchez, threw a no-hitter tonight. That, however, is historically insignificant compared to a night for which I’ve been waiting nearly four years – K-Man’s first game. Taking the kid to his first baseball game is one of those family/father-son rights of passage that I’ve been looking forward to since the line on the stick was blue.

While some kids go to games as soon as they fit into a Baby Bjorn, we waited a few years because 1) K-Man hates loud noises 2) he’s not the biggest fan of crowds and 3) changing a diaper at a baseball game? No thank you. (Those bathrooms are already gross enough.) Come to think of it, #3 is probably the biggest reason we’ve stayed away. It’s not like there were any crowds or much noise at Giants games the last few years.

Because K-Man doesn’t really understand the game, I figured he might last an inning or two at the most. (I even told the parking attendant that we’d be back as early as the third inning.) But, we were going to give this a go. We left the car and started walking toward Park. (I should note that K-Man was disappointed that we asked him to leave his Spider-Man mask in the car.)

We stopped outside the stadium to get a hat for K-Man (thanks to our friend, Jim Sweeney, for K-Man’s sweet new lid) and pick up our tickets at Will Call (thanks to friend, Dave Marcus, for that hook-up). As soon as we walked through the gates, K-Man immediately got what being at the stadium is all about, “Daddy, I want a hot dog and pizza and ice cream and chips and hot chocolate.” He later added that he wanted hummus and crackers, too – asking for perhaps the only food choice not served at AT&T Park.

With hot dog, apple juice, stickers and something called a “Cha Cha Bowl” in hand, we made our way up to our seats, which were in the “View Level” deck directly behind home plate. (The “View Level” named for the absolutely epic views of the San Francisco Bay – perfect for G who can admire the view and ignore the baseball!) From the first pitch – K-Man loved the experience. He took his hat off for the National Anthem. He danced to the music. He clapped when the crowd clapped. He tried to whistle. He even picked out his favorite player. We’ll have to overlook the fact that said favorite player is the Giants mascot, Lou Seal. (Though, Pablo Sandoval is a close second, but that’s only because his nickname is “Kung Fu Panda.”)

He noticed everything around him from the vendors to the pink hats the little girls were wearing. In a nod to his old fire-fighter obsession, he even pointed out the ambulance beyond the left field wall. “I like baseball,” he told us more than once. K-Man was so engrossed that when the Giants finished batting in the bottom of the third, he was still in his seat. Captivated.

Before the first pitch was thrown in the top of the fourth, however, “Daddy, I want to go home. It’s too loud.” Completely unaware of the potential for history on this night, the three of us packed up our stuff and headed for the exit.

But, we didn’t make it out just yet, “Daddy, can we have ice cream, please?” Sure, kid, but not because I want some, too. Of course not. So, after a stop for a cup of mint & chip (which K-Man affectionately calls “mint sh-t” – nice) and a stop in the Giants Team Store (K-Man now has batting gloves to match his new hat) – we walked back to the car.

Like my dad did when I was kid and we left the game early (to beat the traffic out of Chavez Ravine/Dodger Stadium), we listened to the game on the car radio. When we left the stadium, the Giants were up 4-0. When we got to the car, they were ahead 7-0 (somewhat given away by the loud roar we heard from outside the stadium). It wasn’t until we got home, however, that we realized that Jonathan Sanchez was on the verge of pitching a no-hitter.

I immediately put the game on to watch the final two innings and wondered if the first-ever game K-Man had seen (at least part of) would be a no-hitter. How cool would that be? He’s got a ticket and a “My First Game” certificate from the Giants to prove he was there. (Perhaps by the time he’s in his teens, the tale will grow and he’ll have stayed the whole game. “My dad wanted to leave early, but I forced him to stay. I just knew something great was happening.”)

K-Man was fast asleep when Jonathan Sanchez threw a big curveball to strike out the final Padres batter. In a way, I wish that he could have been up to watch it. But, he wouldn’t have understood anyway. The concept of a no-hitter wouldn’t have any effect on him. To him, a no-hitter is what he’s supposed to be when he’s playing with his friends. 

As the celebration unfolded on the TV in my living room, images of a father and son hugging each other and crying in the dugout filled the screen. Jonathan Sanchez’s dad flew in from Puerto Rico to watch his son pitch. On this night, a night when I took my son to see his first baseball game, the Giants’ pitcher’s dad saw his son start a Major League baseball game for the first time.

And – I don’t think that either one of us could have been more proud.

Spider Man on Father's Day

Obviously, I haven’t written a whole hell of a lot in the last few months. The excuses for this blog silence range from the typical (busy) to the, well, more typical (tired). The truth is, however, that clichéd or not – being busy and tired are pretty much the reason why I haven’t put fingers to keyboard. I’ve been writing up a storm – it’s just been “work writing.” But, now, as I sit here on Father’s Day eve day (probably would have been easier just to say, “the day before Father’s Day,”), I can’t help but think about K-Man and fatherhood. It’s only natural, right?

K-Man is now Spider Man. The fire fighter thing was sooo 2008. And, the SCUBA diver thing was merely a phase – a rebound obsession, of sorts. He may have been in lust with SCUBA diving, but it was never love. Spider Man, though, might be here to stay for a while. K-Man is all things Spider Man…all the time.

Yes, an argument can be made for the fact that by getting him things like Spider Man toys, DVDs, shirts and stickers that we are merely pouring fuel on the super hero fire, but an argument can also be made that these Spider Man themed toys are also rewards for developments like the fact that K-Man is now potty trained. “I tell you what, K-Man, you crap in the toilet and you can have that Spider Man helicopter.” Diapers are WAY more expensive than a freaking helicopter. (And, a dirty helicopter, unlike the things K-Man left in his diaper, doesn’t smell like a rotting corpse, or have the consistency of a squished banana.)

And, truthfully, that’s what I find myself thinking about on this day before Father’s Day: What is it that I hope to pass along to the kid? Now that he’s old enough to be an actual “participatory cohort” in day-to-day life (as opposed to being luggage that is hauled from place to place), it feels like the teaching has really begun. (I used to say that you don’t become a parent until you start saying “no,” well, perhaps you don’t really start the heavy lifting until the conversation goes two ways.)

I’ve long said that my key goal was to support his passions, and I can honestly say that I’ve done that through his days as a fire fighter, SCUBA diver and now as Spider Man. But, then, there’s that subtle (or not subtle) struggle with the line between supporting and spoiling.

Call me crazy, but I like buying things for my kid. I like it when his eyes light up at me. I like it when he says, “Daddy, that’s cool! Thank you, Daddy.” I don’t love Spider Man, but K-Man does and that’s what matters. Then, there’s that line. Where is it? Have I crossed it? Am I damaging the kid by supporting these passions?

Obviously, the simple answer is to try to make sure that K-Man earns these rewards. Poop in the potty and Spider Man appears! (Magic poop?!?) Clean up all of your toys and get a sticker. Say please and thank you and get ice cream. Every once in a while, though, I want to buy him something because he’s my kid and I’m his dad. And, damn it, that’s okay too. It’s more than okay. He’s a great kid and for that alone he should be rewarded – not simply on a task-by-task basis.

I love the responsibility that comes with Fatherhood. The pressures are intense and, granted, it’s not always easy. (Insert Deity here) knows that there are plenty of times when we (parents) yearn for those simpler days B.K. (before kids). There are plenty of times when we’d trade our kid(s) for an hour of sleep. But, as they age, grow and learn, you have this great opportunity to teach and craft a mind and a life…what a great thing that can be. (Then they become teenagers and we’ll just want to trade them for…anything.)

I spend a great deal of time just watching K-Man. I watch him play. I watch him watch TV (WHAT? TV? Gasp!). And, I LOVE watching him with other kids. He’s so engaged. He’s passionate. He’s in the moment. I love that he starts every interaction with every kid with, “I’m Spider Man.”

That’s the joy in parenting, I think. That’s what I love about Fatherhood more than anything. Just knowing that K-Man, wearing his Spider Man mask and climbing the “web in the park,” feels secure enough to just go for it and own his passions.
And, frankly, that’s a lesson that I could probably stand to learn about myself.

Happy Father’s Day, kid. Thanks for being here.

My Turn with the aha moment

After spending the better part of the last year helping to create and launch Mutual of Omaha’s new aha moment campaign, I finally have some time to sit down and think of my own. (And, by “finally having time,” I mean it’s currently 12:30 in the morning and I’ve spent the last four hours writing a presentation, which has left me somewhat wired to say the least.) So, yes, I have a bit of time.

Since the very beginning of the campaign development, I’ve always said that the decision to have K-Man was my aha moment. G and I had spent a number of years trying to figure out if we were going to try to have a kid and the night that we finally decided, I thought, was the aha moment. It was that moment of clarity, as we (more or less) define it in the campaign. “Yes, let’s do this.” And, as we all know, having a child certainly changes your life, which is another part of the definition.

But, as I’ve spent more and more time thinking about the campaign (which coincides with the more and more time I’ve spent running in the last two months – including the most wonderfully relaxing 12+mile/two-hour trek last Saturday), I’m not so sure that K-Man is the aha moment. I think there’s something that’s even deeper. He’s certainly a gift (and more of one each day, it seems), but there’s something deeper. And, yes, while I’ve written about the kid for nearly four years now (sometimes more frequently than others), there’s another subject that I’ve written about quite a bit: Balance.

A few minutes into that epic run on Saturday, something clicked. It wasn’t the proverbial runner’s high, but something else. It was contentment. Satisfaction. It was balance. I realized at that very moment that I was, perhaps for the first time in my entire life, managing to work in all of the important parts. Work was great. The family was great. I was running regularly. I was writing (yes, maybe sporadically, but writing, nonetheless). I felt like I had achieved some sort of balance. But that was just the first act of this aha moment.

What came next was more important, I think. Again, I’ve written this before, but I think I forgot about it almost as soon as my fingers danced on the keys. I realized that it’s not about doing everything, always. Finding balance is probably impossible with that kind of pressure. Instead, I think the key to balance is more in the averages than the always.

No, I’m not writing as much as I want to, but I am writing. And, that’s okay. That’s enough. In the past, my absence from the creative keyboard would have sent me into a funk. I wouldn’t have been satisfied that I wasn’t doing what I maybe loved more than anything else in the world (from a hobby perspective). But, I am writing quite a bit, actually, it’s just not here in this blog.

I think we, or never mind “we,” I’ll own this all for myself…I think I have (or maybe had is more like it) this incessant need to constantly be challenging myself to do every single thing at every single minute. And, because that’s impossible – I ended up wondering where I was going wrong. I ended up going wrong. I ended up being completely out of balance.

As I look back on “the trying decision,” without knowing it then, for me it probably had more to do with this idea of balance. I was already so out of balance, how would I possibly handle fatherhood? How would I possible handle LESS time to work in everything…all the time?

A number of people have said that aha moments happen when you least expect them. That may be true. But, what’s also true is that science supports the fact that they happen when you are, in fact, thinking about such things the most. You are ready for the aha moment.

Who knows? Maybe K-Man is the aha moment. After all this time, he may very well be the thing that weighed down the other side of the scale to bring me this much welcomed balance. I’ll take it.