Maid to Order

Christy has been out of town for the last four days, and I got to spend almost every waking moment with Gus, single parent style. We did lots of boy stuff: wrestle, eat bratwursts and watch football, get tatoos, drink beer, bash in mailboxes with baseball bats, etc. We had a really good time, actually, but I became acutely aware of the personal sacrifices that Mom's make. I'm not just talking about watching the trailer to Madagascar 2 twenty times in a row. Full time parenting demands so much time, energy, emotion, patience, and passion. And it is very rewarding, but not too easy and I only did it for a few days knowing that things would turn back to normal come Monday. I hope that Christy feels balance. If not we/I need to make every effort to ensure that she does. As Gus was walking around the kitchen with a belly full of Werther's Original mints, a diaper full of poop (not so minty), a transparent bucket on his head, and some chocolate pie stuck to the bottom of his shoe, I started thinking about maids.

One for Me



One for Christy

The Pursuit of Greatness

Walk On

Better late than never.

One Year

A few days ago Gus hit the year mark. He received some fantastic gifts from friends and both sides of the family (thank you!). He has added a ridiculously large measure of joy to our existence and we feel very blessed, very fortunate to be the keepers of his rambunctious spirit. Here is a video of him methodically demolishing his cake.

New York City

Christy, Gus, and I returned this last weekend from a long seven day trip to New York City, part business part vacation. While we were there we did the following activities: Fun with friends (Adrienne, Michelle, and Brent), Time Square, Broadway play (The Drowsy Chaperone), Central Park, Patsy's Pizza, SoHo, Little Italy and genuine gelato and postres, The Museum of Natural History, about a hundred clothing stores, IKEA, the twisted Gordion knot that is the freeway system in New Jersey, Pampano (Modern Mexican cuisine), The Crown Plaza Hotel, Subways, Buses, Taxis, The Top of the Rock at Rockefeller Center, The Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Ground Zero, and the MOMA (Museum of Modern Art). Gus was an absolute soldier and garnered lots of attention in public transit. Christy was inebriated with the joy of the city. We will most certainly return at some point. There is always something waiting there.

We forgot our still and video cameras, but bought a cheap digital when we got there. Here are a few pictures:

Halloween Nightmare

Is it a chicken? Is it a duck? A Chuck, perhaps? Enjoy this video of the boy's first Halloween.

Slipping Away

The last thing I did before retiring for bed last night was listen to the new Decemberists album, The Crane Wife. I’m not sure if this was or wasn’t the cause of my fitful sleep, but shortly before 4 A.M. I’d had enough of the tossing and turning, and the strange half-realized dreams that could never quite get off the ground. I decided to turn on the light and read myself into something deeper. The lyric going through my head at this time was “…you’ve been slipping, been slipping away.” I know this is from Her Majesty, but this is all my mind could catch hold of. I’ve been munching my way through Marilynne Robinson’s delicious Gilead. This is a novel I will read three or four times before I die. I put it down on page 100, went in and checked on Gus. He was sleeping on his side and I knelt down and touched his chest so I could feel him breathe. He is such a beautiful boy. There is so much I want for him.

The Gus

Here he is, live and in color, smuggling off with our hearts and all of our attention.

Gus Franklin Blake

On June 25, 2006 my wife Christy gave birth to our first child, Gus Franklin Blake. No other event in my life has effected me quite so much. To describe those feelings requires words I don’t have.

Meet Gus:

He likes to be held.
He eats every two hours.
He loves to look at lights.
He sleeps with his arms raised a la Moses parting the Red Sea.
He’s a night owl and rarely turns in before 2 AM.
He has a good strong neck.
He has funny looking toes, and spreads them like a monkey.
He burns through a dozen diapers a day.
He likes to stretch his legs.
He has projectile poo, pee, and throw up…pretty much everything leaving the body.
He likes it when Mom sings.
He’s a noisy eater.
He enjoys riding in the car.
He likes to sleep diagonal in the bed.
He's coordinated enough to hold in or take out his own binky (“soother” for Canadians).
He startles easily (except during certain naps).
He is constantly wearing a concerned look.
He has very fortunate parents.

The New School

This belly is full of the new school
Before fingernails—
Joyfully scraping the uterine chalkboard
Before eye color—
Wherewith to bathe in warm lines of Frost
Before hair—
The follicles of protection, smell, and crush

This curve is the arc of the student
Fleshy stripes—
A wild zebra of growth
His horizon—
Contorting with waves of impatience
Inert pains—
Of hearing but not seeing the world

This firmness is a billion broken syllabi
The essay—
Whose thesis writes itself as your back is turned
The experiment—
Whose success and failure is logged with God
The last trimester—
That ends with the most blazing of final exams

Mother, If I Only Knew.

When I was younger, twelve or thirteen maybe, my Mom brought me downstairs before school and made me watch “The Miracle of Life.” This was the first and only time I’ve had the actual birth of a child played out before me. The only precursor for me was You Were Smaller than a Dot—a cleverly illustrated children’s book that explained in the most tactful of terms that there is no such thing as a stork.

I must admit. It was pretty shocking. I’ve got to hand it to my Mom. She took matters into her own hands, whereas nowadays it seems many parents circumvent the whole teen pregnancy issue by closing their eyes, shutting their mouths, and pretending really hard that there isn’t an issue at all. Perhaps this video turned out to be the best type of sex education. It showed me that there are actually some painfully non-romantic consequences to exercising the bidding of my raging hormones.

Last week Christy and I attended the second of three Birth Education classes at Jordan Valley Hospital—where Christy will give birth. They showed us four videos of births—3 vaginal and one C-section. I’m still in shock. I’m trying to wrap my brain around the fact that this will be us in a month and a half. I’m trying not to think about all of the many mishaps that can occur. I’m trying to trust that Christy will be okay and the baby will be okay, and that I can be a man and stand there as a pillar of strength, instead of a jello-kneed bystander likely to collapse at any moment.

One thought that kept occurring to me again and again was “Thank you, Mom.” Yes, for showing me the video years ago, but not because of that. Thank you, Mom for going through this ultimate life experience to bring me into this world. If anywhere there exists a valley of the shadow of death, it would be in all of the proper and makeshift maternity wards across the world. Thank you, Mom. Thank you. I should have been a nicer son.

It's So Easy

{poem was here}

A Baby's Timeline

Timeline for the yet-to-be-named Blake Baby!

Sept. 2005 – Conception! This most likely occurred on a beautiful and breezy Sunday afternoon. My guess would be the 18th or 25th. We are obliviously all smiles.

Oct. 26, 2005 – Christy takes a home pregnancy test at about 5 P.M. and it comes out positive. I get home around 6:30 P.M.—the exact same time as the visiting teachers. Christy opens the door to see the three of us standing there. I wash the previous nights dishes as Christy, seated in the adjoining room, proceeds to tell her visiting teachers she is pregnant. She solidifies her place as World’s Worst Secret Keeper. I am the third to find out. We cry. We laugh. We cry.

Oct. 30, 2005 – We travel to Idaho to tell the news to the Blake family. They smile and cheer. We return to Salt Lake and tell the news to the Bateman family. They smile and cheer. Nausea begins.

Nov. 11, 2005 – Christy realizes that she can’t brush her teeth without throwing up, which sort of cancels out the teeth brushing. We buy mints and floss.

Nov. 14, 2005 – I step on the scale and am surprised to see that I’ve gained about 8 lbs. since we found out Christy was pregnant. I feel bloated and overly in touch with my feminine side. I resolve to not get fat, and to be better at consoling Christy in her nausea.

Nov. 17, 2005 – We attend our first doctor appointment. His name is Layne Smith, and I find myself getting weirded out that this is the one other guy who sees my wife with no pants on. Christy decides she hates blood work. Dr. Smith gives us the very scientifically accurate due date of “mid-June.” We see our first ultrasound. The baby looks like a Peanut Butter M&M.

Dec. 4, 2005 – We go to Maui, Hawaii with Sam & Stephanie Larson. The Baby is already well-traveled. Christy punished him/her by eating some authentic Polynesian cuisine. The baby punished Christy by causing her to barf while snorkeling at Molokini. They call a truce and live peacefully for the rest of the trip.

Dec. 18, 2005 – Our friends Brian and Mandy Cheney scare us half to death with “Tales of the Maternity Ward.” All we lacked was a half decayed mummy with a stethoscope. I learn about afterbirth and the placenta, episiotomies, painful breastfeeding, canoe panties, and the spray bottle. That night I have a nightmare that I’ll only tell if you twist my arm real hard.

Jan. 1, 2006 – We speculate about names over dinner with the Batemans. “Shiz” and “Teancum” seem to be gaining popularity. We make the mistake of actually throwing out a couple of our real name ideas only to get stink-eyes and crusties.

Jan. 5, 2006 – I notice a slight curve to Christy’s belly. She places a sizeable order of Old Navy maternity clothing, which she says “makes me feel comfortable and cute, and goes further than you might think in allowing me to face the workday.” Elastic bands go from being unfashionably nerdy to being the cat’s meow.

Jan. 9, 2006 – Christy’s sister gives birth to twins Henry and Owen. We learn more about the frightening concept of C-Section and prematurity.

Jan. 11, 2005 – Christy has her second doctor appointment. They weigh her (increase of 6 pounds), and she skates by without doing any blood work.

Jan. 23, 2005 – We have our second ultrasound, this time at Jordan Valley Hospital. The Peanut M&M actually looks like a baby now, and we cry. The technician takes many measurements (femur, cranium, abdomen, etc). The baby strategically positions itself to not show any genitalia. Christy secretly does jumping jacks in the bathroom, thinking the baby will bounce out of position. It does not. One hour and 45 minutes and two technicians later, we leave not knowing the sex of the baby. If the technicians were to take a guess, however, they would say “girl.”

Jan. 27, 2005 – We schedule a “sex-check” wherein we return to Jordan Valley to find out at last, boy or girl. Once again, the stubborn little thing will not budge out of position. One hour and two technicians later, we find out that IT’S A BOY! We are both kind of surprised, as we had sort of anticipated a girl. Happiness ensues.

Jan. 30, 2005 – Beginning of week 20—the half-way point. Life is beautiful.