Mort4CY

Back when I was in college, I started playing Fantasy Football.  I played in a couple different leagues each year, and even ran a league for several years.  At the end of college, I gave up my Fantasy Football teams and moved into my professional life.  I still watched football when I got the chance, and I even got to see my Atlanta Falcons play in Super Bowl XXXIII.  I also saw them draft one of the most dynamic players to ever enter the NFL.  Subsequently, I also saw this player be cut from the team and spend time in jail for his off the field decisions.  Even through all of this real football drama, something was missing.  I needed my Fantasy Football again.

Last year, my friend Brian and I decided to start a new Fantasy Football league.  We got a few people from where we work and combined them with our friends to form a very fun league.  We continued the league this year, bringing in a few new owners and saying goodbye to a few people from last year.  Our draft experienced a few technical difficulties (internet service at the local bar where we met was down), so I got stuck with many players that I did not really want.  Through some creative waiver wire claims, I have now built a very strong team and feel confident that I will be a factor in the playoffs at the end of the season.

Even if I don’t win another game this year though, I am happy to be playing Fantasy Football again.  Each Sunday I can watch (and be interested in) any game on TV and relax for just a short time.  Yesterday afternoon, Devon and I watched the Packer game while Chloe and MamaMort napped.  Are Devon and I packer backers?  No, you won’t find any cheese head hats at our house.  We did however have fun watching the game and tracking stats of players.

When I was growing up, I remember watching football games with my dad.  He would explain the strategies of football and I soaked it all up while appreciating the time we were spending together.  I wonder if Devon will someday want to listen to me explain not only football, but Fantasy Football as well.  I hope I can give him insight so that he can someday draft his own competitve team – or at least one that he has fun with.  I also hope it is at least a decade until he can dethrone me as the best Fantasy Football player in our house.

Next week, I may dress him in this.

Now that Devon has been with us for about 4 weeks, I feel like I am finally starting to hit my stride and figure things out.   I know that with a newborn, you can’t hope to have much of a schedule, and all that you can really do is try to survive.  I’m happy to report that we did survive.  Both MamaMort and I are tired, but we are doing okay.  I think that at the 4 week point with Chloe, I was much less optimistic than I am with Devon.

Sure, Devon is having some of the same digestive issues that we went through with Chloe, and he doesn’t nap well.  He actually gets so tired at times that he becomes inconsolable.  I know these things,  but I also know (this time around) that all of this is temporary.  I am much more able to focus on the good moments and let the more challenging times fade away.

This was exemplified this weekend, when MamaMort was bed ridden with a stomach bug on Sunday.  To give her a chance to rest, I flew solo with both kids all morning.  We had a few rough moments - to say the least.  Devon had never really eaten from a bottle, so he and I had to try to figure that out.  Every time we tried a bottle though, Chloe had a “potty emergency”.  For those of you with multiple kids this may not be news.  But for those of you with one (or even without) kid, let me tell you – helping pull off jeans and getting a squirmy 2 year old on to the toilet in a closet size half bath while holding a newborn who is starving to death but not understanding that a bottle can give him what only mom has been able to up until this point is not fun – to say the least.  I think at one point all three of us were crying.  Okay, I may not have been weeping, but it was close.  Unfortunately, this exact scenario played out on two separate occasions Sunday morning.

That afternoon, MamaMort called in reinforcements and both kids went to spend the afternoon with Nana and Dudad, giving both MamaMort and a very weary me a chance to rest and recharge.  I realized soon after they were gone though, that I missed them both very much and that no matter how difficult the small moments were, that I really enjoyed spending the morning with both of them.  We read books together, Chloe brought toys over for Devon to look at while she played with them, and we all snuggled while watching some cartoons. 

Thinking back to me trying to hold Devon with one hand, balance a bottle in his mouth with my chin, and shimmy Chloe out of her pants with one hand so that she could go potty, I don’t grimace – I smile, because now I know I can do it.  Now that I know that I can survive the kids (even if I am outnumbered) I have more confidence as a dad.  I know there will be more bumps in the road and more challenging moments, but I am ready for the long haul – now that I’ve hit my stride.

Proud papa

Chloe seems to be getting excited for her new brother.  I don’t know if she understands fully what is going on, but she does know that MamaMort has a baby in her tummy. 

Every morning while she and I pack lunches and make breakfast, Chloe explains (unprompted) to me, “Mommy, baby, tummy”.  I reply to her, “That’s right Mommy has a baby in her tummy.”  Recently she has begun to follow this up with, “Daddy, no  baby tummy.  Jus’ fat.”

It may be time for me to think about a diet or increasing my exercise routine.  There is nothing more honest than a two year old or more humbling than one calling you pudgy – repeatedly.  I guess sometimes dads just need that kind of humbling honesty in their lives.  Who better than Chloe to share it with me?

As MamaMort and I navigate our way through her second pregnancy, I find myself pausing to re-evaluate my role in our family.  I truly want to be the best dad that I can be to both Chloe and Devon, but what does that mean?  What things would make me a “Good Dad”.  Here are the 5 key things that I am trying to incorporate into my life.  Hopefully, later in life my children will think it made me a good dad.

1.  Talk to you child- I realized about a month ago that MamaMort understood more of Chloe’s words than I did.  Since that point, I have been working hard to have more “conversations” with Chloe.  Even at 2 years old, she can answer open ended questions if posed correctly.  This type of communication takes a little more effort than asking “yes or no” questions, but I now understand most (or at least more) things that she says.  This has got to be laying the foundation for us to communicate better in the future – or at least that’s my theory.

2.  Read to your child- Chloe loves books.  If MamaMort and I had the time, Chloe would have us read to her all day long – everyday.  Poppy stories, Curious George, Little Critters, Dr. Seuss; any book that has pictures and words will do.  I really hope that Devon loves to read as much as Chloe does and that they can take this love of reading forward as the mature.

Chloe still hasn't found a book she doesn't like.

3.  Play with your child - Whether it is watching Chloe build towers with her Legos (or knocking my tower over), playing at the park, or throwing the ball for Steve the Dog to fetch, it is amazing to me how quickly her physical skills are forming.  By playing with her I am able to introduce new skills for her to learn.  Balance, throwing, and jumping are all things that she learns through play.  It is also fun for me to play too.  I forgot how great Legos were.  

4.  Mean what you say and say what you mean- This has been a tough one for me.  I have a tendency to use slight bits of sarcasm in my life.  Unfortunately, toddlers don’t grasp this type of communication.  Chloe doesn’t understand when I say “Okay, grab the knife.  That’s a smart idea!” that I really mean “Knives can be dangerous because they are sharp.  Only Mommy and Daddy can use knives in our house”.  This point would also apply to making promises.  If you say, “we can’t go to the park right now, but after dinner we can.”  Chloe will remember this and will expect to be headed to the park after dinner.  Same thing goes for consequences.  “If you don’t eat more of your chicken, then we won’t get to go on a walk tonight”, doesn’t hold much weight when you end up going on a walk even if she refuses any more of her dinner.  Don’t say it unless you are going to follow through.

5. Respect others and do what’s right- Whether it is how MamaMort and I interact in our daily conversations, or including Chloe in some of our community volunteer projects, we are instilling in Chloe our values of respect and concern for others.  At the age of 2 she has already been a part of a fundraising walk and regularly uses please and thank you without prompting.  I hope that as she gets older, she continues to show respect to people by being a polite girl.  It is still amazing to me how many children I interact with that have a sense of entitlement and don’t even consider a “please” when asking for something.  She is already getting much better at sharing her toys – even without being asked.  Friends (from out of town) of ours have a 7 month old little girl.  When they were at our house for dinner earlier this week, Chloe gathered dolls, books, and other toys that she thought that she might like and gave them to the little girl.  It was sweet to see her gathering things for her new friend without being asked, but just out of concern.

There is obviously much more that goes into being a Dad, but these are the 5 things that I am concentrating on to make me a better Dad right now.  I think the one thing that ties all of these things together is simple.  You just need to “want to be a Dad”.  Which I do.  It has been amazing to watch Chloe grow and change over the past 2 years and I can’t wait to have Devon join her in our family.  It is hard to imagine what our life will be like in 2 more years.  Hopefully, I will still be living these 5 key points and Devon will be as compassionate, inquisitive and active as his sister is.  I know that I will still be happy to be their Dad, so that is a good start. 

Me and my girls in a family hug

However, if it is broke, you should probably see a doctor to get it fixed.  This is a lesson I learned last week after my YPAmes softball game.  During the second game of the night a left-hander hit a line-drive at me as I was playing first base.  It took a bad hop and hit me in the tip of my right middle finger.  The finger immediately started bleeding and it felt to me like it was broken.  I’ve dealt with sprains, cuts and bruises on my hands and fingers over the years, but this pain was different and much more intense.  There were only 2 outs when this happened, and our team doesn’t enjoy the luxury of having any bench players, so before I got any medical attention I decided that we would finish the inning.  MamaMort told me after the fact, that I was shaking my hand and it looked like I was trying to fling blood around, but in my defense I was trying to shake away the pain.

The guy who hit the ball stopped at first to make sure I was okay, although he could have easily made it to at least second or third as no one was near the ball after it ricocheted off of my crushed finger tip.  He was apologizing to me as I tried to gather myself to restart play, which was very nice, as not every team has shown that type of sportsmanship this year.  Even though I was in pain and sucking the blood off of my finger to try to better survey the damage, I tried to joke around with him by quoting the movie Dodgeball.  I’m not sure he got the reference when I told him that “Nobody makes me bleed my own blood”.  Then again, not everyone gets my humor, and sometimes I feel bad for those that do.

After the third out was mercifully made, I ran into the dugout where MamaMort was waiting with band-aids, Tylenol, a wet washcloth, and a bag of ice (seriously – could I have married a better mom than her?  She had everything I needed before I even knew what I needed.)  The worst part was, that I was actually first to bat – seriously could I catch a break here?  I hit the ball and made it on base.  I had my ice bag in my pocket, so while I was on base, my finger was on ice as I ran around with my hand in my pocket.  I finished the game having to bat 2 more times – including a double which I am very proud of.

As I said before, this all happened during our second game of the night, so the game didn’t get over until after 8:00.  Even though it was Chloe’s birthday, her bedtime was before the end of the game.  We had all driven down together as a family with the plan being that I would just walk home after the conciliatory beers that usually follow our game and Chloe and MamaMort would go home at bedtime. About 10 minutes after my ordeal it was time for bed so MamaMort packed Chloe into her carseat to go home.

The girls went home and got Chloe changed into pajamas and ready for bed.  Being the sweet and caring little girl that she is though, Chloe refused to go to bed knowing that Daddy was hurt and had no ride home.  About 10 minutes after they left the diamonds, I saw MamaMort, with Chloe dressed in her pajamas reappear in the parking lot.  The game ended soon after this and Chloe was happy that Daddy got to come home and get his owie taken care of. 

I went to the doctor(at MamaMort’s insistence) the next day and 4 hours later my fears were confirmed.  My finger is broken and my softball season is over.  Every day since then, when I read Chloe a book or we are making breakfast at the counter she points to my splint and says “Daddy owie.  No Chloe owie“  To which I reply, “That’s right.  Daddy hurt his finger, but Chloe didn’t.  Do you think a hug would make Daddy’s finger feel better?”  She usually obliges with a big hug, so it isn’t entirely horrible to have a broken finger.  At least I have a sweetheart of a little girl to make me feel better.

Today MamaMort and I went in for Baby “D”s* ultrasound.  Even though I had experienced this when MamaMort was carrying Chloe, it was an amazing feeling today.  Getting to see the baby moving and kicking is something that is very special and I am very thankful that technology allows us to take a glimpse into our baby’s life before the delivery date.

As the technician wiggled the ultrasound wand** around on MamaMort we got good looks at our baby.  It weighs in at 8 ounces – which is exactly where it should be at this point in its development.  You could distinguish 5 little fingers on each hand and 5 little toes on each foot.  Even though MamaMort hasn’t recognized any feelings of kicking yet, Baby “D” was stretching and kicking the entire time.  It was amazing to see.

Then it happened.  The technician asked us if we wanted to know if it was going to be a boy or a girl.  We said that we did, and she asked us if we thought it was going to be a boy or a girl.  I looked at MamaMort and she looked at me.  I kind of shrugged and then realized I had a 50/50 shot of being right so I said “Boy”.  The technician answered - ”yep”.  Its not that I wouldn’t be happy with another little girl, I love Chloe very much and wouldn’t change anything about her – except maybe her current nose picking obsession, but hopefully she’ll grow out of that. I understood there was a chance of us having a boy, but until I heard it I hadn’t really thought about it too much.

 The thought of having a little boy flooded my mind with the differences of our first and second children.   As I sat watching the monitor for the rest of the measurements that needed to be taken, I thought about how we will have to start looking for trucks and tractors to replace the dolls and dress up jewelry.  Someday I will be able teahch him to play catch and we can go to Iowa State games together.  Further down the road I will have ”the talk” with him about girls (then he can set me straight on the facts that I don’t yet understand myself).  Oh how different this is going to be.

Then I snapped back to reality.  Chloe often picks out “boy” books and toys and loves to play with the balls in her playroom.  She and I are sports buddies and she even knows exactly how we watch Iowa State Basketball (her anguished screams of discontent are just right to be a Cyclone for life).  I’ll probably leave Chloe’s “the talk” duties up to MamaMort, but I’ll always be there if she needs me.

With all of that being said,  I do feel sorry for Baby “D” though.  He will be the only boy of 4 grandchildren on my side and currently the only boy of 3 on MamaMort’s side.  I just hope he can either outrun them when they decide to paint his toe nails or put makeup on him and play princess, or that he can accept it and have fun playing with his sister and cousins.

I am very happy to get the chance to be a father to my new baby boy.  I hope that I can raise him to be a good man someday.  Lucky for me, I have a good father in my life that taught me the difference between right and wrong while giving me enough space to make my own mistakes and become the person I am today.  I hope that I can do the same for Baby “D”.

* We haven’t 100% finalized Baby “D”s name yet, but we do know that the name will start with “D” to follow our family naming plan. **I am not a trained ultrasoundologist (or maybe ultrasound technician), but I am pretty sure that is the technical term for the device she was using.

A couple of years ago, MamaMort and I started a fairly large garden in our back yard.  Last year, I even built a fence to keep out rabbits (and more aptly dogs).  We installed a compost bin in one corner and a rain barrel for watering.  Over the past year, we have generated a good amount of compost that I am looking forward to working into the garden soil this spring if the ground ever dries enough for me to get a tiller in there. 

As I have waited for the ground to dry, my mind wanders to what I am going to plant this year.  In the past couple of years we have tried many vegetables including the standards like green beans, tomatoes, and carrots.  We have also planted spinach, broccoli, Boston bibb lettuce, onions, beets, garlic, asparagus and zucchini – with mixed results.  Even though our garden is about 450 square feet, we just don’t have room to plant everything – every year (plus I like to try something new every year too). 

This year I knew that we would be planting green beans, lots of tomatoes (for my homemade marinara sauce), carrots, and a new addition – peas (a favorite of Chloe’s), but that still left some unclaimed space in the garden.  With that in mind, MamaMort and I visited our local greenhouse this weekend to pick up a few flowers for the front entry as well as seeds and a few live plants for the garden.  We now have seeds for zucchini, carrots, beets, sugar snap peas, bush beans, basil and oreganoas well as 6 Roma tomato plants and 3 sweet potato plants.

Now that I have my seeds and plants, I need to map out exactly where everything will go, but as I looked out the window at lunch today to see more rain falling, I realized that I have a few more days until the garden will be dry enough to till, let alone plant.   Hopefully it dries out soon though.  If I have too much time, I may change my mind.  I could end up with cauliflower and parsnips if this weather doesn’t cooperate.  The good news is, our rain barrel is full…

Around our house, I do most of the cooking.  I actually enjoy cooking, and over the years I have become quite good at it (if I must say so myself ).  I rarely follow recipes, but I do like to read cookbooks and visit recipe websites for inspiration.  The other night, I was putting together a Mexican casserole, similar to one that I saw on Food.com, that used a can of re-fried beans as well as a can of cream of mushroom soup.

When I went to open the first can, I opened the drawer where we keep our kitchen tools – thermometers, measuring cups, grater, ice cream scoop, can opener, etc.  As I was digging all the way to the bottom of the drawer and back in the far corner, I realized that we don’t use our can opener very much anymore.  As I assembled the casserole, I realized that while I do most of the cooking, MamaMort has had a huge influence over what I cook and ultimately what we eat as a family.  Since we have been together, and especially since Chloe was born a couple of years ago, we have shifted the way we eat.

Before MamMort came into my life, I had a 6 foot pantry stocked with canned soups, vegetables, and meats, pre-made stock and other shelfstable shortcuts to cooking.  If you look through our cupboards today, you will probably find less than 6 cans of food in our house.  I am happy to report this, because most canned food is heavy in sodium and overall not very good for you.  On the contrary, if you check our fridge or either of our deep freezes (we have 2 now)  you will find them full of fresh produce and home made foods (many of which we have made incorporating vegetables from our own garden).  By making and freezing our own foods, we can control exactly what we eat and what we serve Chloe.  

Last weekend, we made a large batch of cranberry peach applesauce.  The ingredients that we used were apples, fresh cranberries, and frozen peaches.  That’s it.  No preservatives, no sweeteners, no thickening agents, and no artificial colorings.  We simply put all of the ingredients into our crock pot for a few hours and then into the food processor after they softened.  After the fruits were pureed, we filled Rubbermaid containers and froze what we didn’t plan to use right away.  Side note: we added the cranberries and peaches because they were left over.  Most times we just use apples or maybe mix in a few pears.  Our regular applesauce is yummy, but this batch was also good - Chloe eats it by the bowl full.

With Spring here now, I am starting to think about this year’s vegetable garden.  I know we’ll have our standard tomatoes, beans, and carrots, but we might try a few new vegetables this year.  Chloe is a big fan of peas (unlike MamaMort), so I am thinking at least one type of pea will be added to our garden this year.  Who knows what we will have to fill our freezers by the end of the summer?  Regardless of what we end up planting, I am sure of one thing – we won’t be adding any canned vegetables to our pantry any time soon.  We’ll keep a few cans of food around though – Chloe likes to take them out of the cupboard and fill her shopping cart with them when she plays.

Blakely, Chloe and I have joined Team Kamps^3 and will be walking in the March of Dimes’ March for Babies on May 7, to help prevent birth defects, premature births, and infant mortality.  Angie Kamps is my cousin and the story of her triplets is amazing and inspiring.  They were born at 25 weeks and all three girls are now home and getting stronger every day.

Every day, thousands of babies are born too soon, too small and often very sick.  Team Kamps^3 is walking in March for Babies because I want to do something about this.  I know you care, too.  That’s why I’m asking you to consider donating to my fundraising efforts.  Even the smallest donation would be appreciated.  Funds raised in March for Babies support research and programs that help moms have full-term pregnancies and babies begin healthy lives.  And they will be used to bring comfort and information to families with a baby in newborn intensive care.

I have walked in the March of Dimes before, but now that I have become a dad and am now expecting a second child, this cause means even more to me.

I know that the first step to overcoming any addiction is admitting that you have a problem, so that is what I am doing today. I have an unhealthy relationship with my phone, and I need to work to change my habits.  I have to thank MamaMort for bringing the severity of my problem to my attention.  I am so addicted to myphone that I don’t even realize that I am checking it most of the time.

In my defense, my phone is amazing.  I am able to instantly get email from 3 different email accounts as well as my Twitter feed, and Facebook updates.  If this wasn’t enough, I also have a sudoku app that is almost as addicting to me as the rest of the features combined.  I think it also can place and receive phone calls too, but that is not my primary use for the phone.  If anything happens on any of my feeds a small white light blinks.  This light is only the size of a pin head, but it now controls my life.  As soon as it starts to blink, I stop whatever I am doing and turn my attention to my phone.  Updates used to cause my phone to vibrate too, but I turned that off to try to curb my addiction.  Alas, it did not change my compulsion to “be connected”.

At lunch today, MamaMort challenged me to go 5 minutes without looking at my phone (as I checked a work email in the middle of our conversation).  I turned off the screen, but soon realized that I had not checked the time on the phone before agreeing to avoid it for 5 minutes.  Did I mention that my phone has basically replaced my watch?  Unfortunately, MamaMort did not find this as humorous as I did.

The ironic thing about my addiction is that I grew up in a time when people were unavailable for long stretches of time.  I remember when we didn’t even have an answering machine on the lone telephone in our home that serviced all 5 of our family.  Our Tandy computer didn’t have Internet, and even if it did I wouldn’t have known hundreds of people nor would I have cared where they were eating lunch or what song they just heard on the radio.  Sometimes, I wish I could go back to those days of communication isolation.  If I don’t get a message right away and reply, I start to get nervous.  I truly do have a addiction to my phone, and I will try to do something about it.  I don’t know if I am ready for 12 steps yet, but I might try turning the power off once in awhile, or at least turn it face down so I can’t see the blinking light.

By the way, while writing this post, I realize that I have touched my phone at least 5 times and glanced at it to check for the blink at least 20 more.  I really do have a problem.