Daddy K trashes the trashers

So last Friday we picked up trash again on our morning walk. Another bagful of crap that people felt the need to pitch out their window while they're driving along West Cliff Drive, or while parked along West Cliff, or walking along West Cliff, or passing out along West Cliff…

If I see somehow doing it, I'm going to call them out. I know I'm not saving the world per se, but c'mon.

I need to get one of those grabby stick trash picker scoobies to pick up the smaller bits of trash like bottle caps and butts.

Although recycling has helped extend the life of Santa Cruz County's Buena Vista landfill, it's projected to only have about 16 years left (could be more accurate research available somewhere).

We live in one of the most beautiful places in the world and sadly there are visitors and locals alike that trash it.

Let's keep it clean, kids.

Daddy K is mindful of trumping nature

Last week I read in Wayne's Fatherhood Blog that "Researchers at the University of Birmingham in Great Britain have completed a study on what constitutes meaningful fatherhood."

Basically what constitutes daddy meaningfulness is being involved (mindful parenting), and not just being the biological father (genetics). Being involved should take precedence in having a say in a child's life.

Wow. Really. Who were the scientific geniuses who concluded this? In all fairness the legal system has favored biology when it comes to custody wrangling.

I haven't seen my biological father since I was 13. By choice. I remember standing in front of a judge and telling him I didn't want to see him. And over the years he has never reached out to me since (nor have I to him) or tried to have a "say" in my life since.

I've let go of that baggage decades ago, and this isn't about we did or didn't do, or what we never worked out as adults – my point is, if something had happened to my mother while I was under the age of 18, would the legal system have given my biological father the edge over my step-father, just because of biology?

I truly hope not, but I'm sure if I did some research I'd find out a whole bunch of similar father custody scenarios that played out for the chromosomes instead of a loving dad.

There are "growing fathers' rights concerns" all over the world and fortunately it looks as though nurture trumps nature more often these days in the human world.

The same should apply to mothers as well. But that's another post for another time.

Daddy K and Mama A Take a Mindful Parenting Class

We attend a mindful parenting class yesterday that the instructor calls The Art of Inner Nesting. And I have to say it's one of the best things we've done to done to prepare for the coming of our child.

The main point of the entire day was to be mindful – to be aware and actively present in the moment. You should always reflect on your past and plan for your future – but always be mindful of the present and live in your presence.

We met some other very nice parents-to-be who all share the same goals of being attentive parents focused on the now. It's hard to do, even before the children arrive. For all you parents out there, you know that life is a frantic amusement park ride with new surprises around every fall and turn.

There were meditation exercises (active listening), and communication exercises, and parenting vow exercises, and breathing exercises, and yoga exercises, and labor exercises – and some very sweet emotional moments. At one point Amy and I were doing a breathing exercise, aligning our breath as one, holding hands on her belly, Baby B rolling gently inside.

A moment of radiant light and love that no negativity could touch. (Like when the Freeling Family's bond of love warded off the evil spirits in Poltergeist. Don't make fun.)

Some would say this was all very much liberal, new age Santa Cruz, and that's true. But coming from two people who never wanted children in the first place, and are now having their first (and maybe not last), we're going to be present at every moment and embrace the love.

Considering that's how we've always tried to live since we've been together, it shouldn't be too much of a stretch.

Basic elemental instinct to survive
Stirs the higher passions
Thrill to be alive

Alternating currents in a tidewater surge
Rational resistance to an unwise urge
(anything can happen)

From the point of conception
To the moment of Truth
At the point of surrender
To the burden of proof

From the point of ignition
To the final drive
The point of the journey is not to arrive
(anything can happen)

--Neil Peart

Daddy K Fights for Wednesday’s Rights

One of Amy's old children's books I read this week was Counting Rhymes, A Little Golden Book, full of folk rhymes and fun. The version we have was published in 1960. I love reading these old books; such a different world prior to free love, disco, Reaganomics, the Clinton years, and the Internet.

Here's a taste:

Three Babes

Three babes in a basket

And hardly room for two,

And one was yellow and one was black

And one had eyes of blue.

That space was small no doubt for all,

But what should three babes do?

Be socially AND personally responsible, right Mr. Jackson? And of course, get out and vote. When they're 18, of course.

And then there's Monday's Child:

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving –

Wait a minute. Wednesday's child is full of woe?

Why?

What did Wednesday's child do to deserve being born on such a woeful day? What's wrong with Wednesday?

Oh, Baby B, we must fight for Wednesday's rights. Wednesday can be just as loving and giving as Friday? And although Saturday's child must work hard for a living, the child born on the Sabbath Day is blithe and winsome and happy and gay. But what about Wednesday?

Yes, we will fight, B. We will be the Wednesday Winners and all the other days will cower in our hump day shadows –

Sorry, lost my head for a minute. That always happens during a week of off-balance data mismanagement.

The Mama A List: The Midwife Measureth and Checketh Up

Last night our midwife Kathe came for our latest Baby B appointment (video snippet here). Everything is going well and now we'll see her every two weeks and then every as we approach the due date.

Amy's weight and measurements are all on target and the baby's heart rate continues to be a steady 140 bpm. Rock on, Baby B! (I'm going to try to capture some alien video of Amy's tummy roiling.)

We're now in the final planning stages, including making lists of supplies – smelling salts for me and a birthing tub with beach balls for Amy. Lots to do before the baby comes.

YouTube has a new fun feature (thanks Adriana!) that allows you to embed pop-up thought bubbles and such in videos.

Enjoy!

Daddy K wishes a colleague well; the most precious gift of all

One of my colleagues is having a baby today; his wife is having a scheduled C-section and all lights are green to having a healthy baby girl. This will be three kids total for them.

When I asked where they were registered or what we could get them, he said their gift is their new baby girl.

And I said that is the most precious gift of all! We wish them a happy and healthy birth today!

And then I thought, but we still want gifts. And then I felt guilty.

And then I got over it.

Yeah, gifts. Tons. Keepin' it real.

Congratulations on the new born!

The Empire of Mama A Pokes Back

We’re two months and change out from Baby B’s grand entrance, and man is he/she getting pushing. Really. And pokey. And proddy (is that even a word?).

Baby B’s pushing up on Mama A’s stomach and that’s causing a bit of heartburn. Not much, but enough to be noticed and enough for some calcium-rich Tums (shameless product placement).

Amy’s been very fortunate to date with limited problems during pregnancy. I’m quite happy about that as well. (Pssst – I’ll tell you a hormonal story or two sometime.)

When Baby B is in an awkward position (which will get worse, we know), pushing hard on either side, bladder or ribs, Mama A pokes back!

In a very loving way, of course. I like talking into the belly and poking as well.

Tomorrow night, the next midwife appointment transpires…more on that later.