I don't know how people do it...

I've started working a new gig and I'm not sure how people do it AND spend any kind of quality time with their families.  I know they do.  I'm just not sure how.  Get to work before 9am and don't leave until well after 7pm.  Maybe you get to grab something downstairs at a Cosi or deli that you then take back up to eat at your desk.  Take into consideration the commute and you get home around 7:30 or 8.  Throw together dinner and by the time Rachel Maddow signs off, the wife is asleep and the cat needs to be fed and I'm done.  We're out and in bed by 11pm.  That's 10 hours at work and three hours at home.

And that's not out of the norm.  I am not judging.  I'm just amazed. 

Now, there is part of me that says, "what are we doing?"  What we do has become the definition of who we are.  When we meet someone, we ask, "what do you do?" before we ask about their families, their lives...  It just seems a little odd. 

I don't know how people do it.

My wife

If you haven't read my wife's blog lately, you should.  The link is on my banner:  The Actor's Wife.

If you have read it, you'll see that she's written a couple times about me.  I think I'll return the favor.

Much of the fun of this pregnancy is watching her go through it.  Her style statement is Composed Grace and it fits her.  She has managed to find a way to make being pregnant very simple and very elegant.  We have not hand any major issues and the pregnancy has been going smoothly.  Lately our wee one has been kicking like crazy.  The other day we watched a foot poke against her skin again and again.  Last night she jolted upright around 4 a.m.  He kicked her hard in the ribs.  I laughed, saying, "of course he's kicking." 

She then put her hand on me, finding my lowest rib.



"Bottom one?"

"Yeah... Why?"

She then punched me.  "That's what it feels like."

That's the girl I married twelve and a half years ago.

She sits next to me and watches football.  She gets the joke.  She can keep box scores at a Yankees game, something I don't know how to do.  She can know what I'm thinking before I think it.  We can look at each other and have an entire conversation.  She is strong, smart and has allowed me to be a bit crazy with the whole baby thing.  She is willing to entertain any crazy idea I have, hence the reason she has a fanny pack style contraption making various heartbeat sounds strapped to her belly twice a day.

And she's been willing to be an actor's wife for twelve years.  That, in itself, deserves an award.

We have needs here...

I have not blogged in a little bit.  Feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment.  But there is one thing that has been bugging me.

I may be callous, but I'm feeling Haiti overload.  There are American's here who have no jobs, are homeless, children who will go to bed hungry tonight, people with serious diseases who have no access to health care, a government and politicians who are more interested in keeping score and winning some arbitrary numbers game - and there's a telethon on almost every single channel for Haiti.  They need help, sure, but there's no telethon with celebrities for people without health care, or to raise the billions that are being cut from American education budgets, or to help people who have lost their jobs.  We're being asked to give money.  What money?  We don't have any.  I can't look past the man sitting next to me, who rides the subway to stay out of a blizzard, and give what little I have to aid earthquake victims on an island thousands of miles away.

Give if you can, but please don't forget those aid organizations who are working just as hard to help the people in your neighborhood or city.  Their need is no less great.

Get here already!

I've been having a lot of fun with my wife's belly.  It hasn't been as much fun for her, but it's been a gas for me!

He's stretching.  A lot.  I saw a foot.  It's crazy.  Her entire stomach moves.

He stretches and is moving a lot lately and it's causing her a lot of pain.  I never thought of it, but when he kicks, he's kicking organs.  He stretches and he pushes on muscle and skin.  It's a tough gig carrying a kid. 

Several times my wife has said, "I wish you could just take him for a while."

I'm sure by around June, when she goes back to work and I rotate into stay-at-home dad mode, she'll be saying the opposite. 

I'll suddenly be the bad cop.  I get to be home doing all the poop clean up and chasing him around, keeping him from playing in the kitty litter or killing the cat and she can come home and bathe him, play with him, read to him - as I try to find an adult to talk to... to have an actual conversation longer than five words.  She'll be the good cop.

And I think that's okay. 

We're just ready for him to get here.


I'm knee deep in paint.  Re-painting our front room (a big dark blue wall was not a good idea in a light starved room), painting the kid's room, choosing colors, trekking to Home Depot, then waiting in line for paint, forgetting my wallet, trekking back in the cold, getting it, back to Home Depot, getting my paint, putting up color samples in 2x2 squares, rethinking our color schemes, trekking back to Home Depot, avoiding getting hit by a car, scrubbing the paint from my brushes... why won't it all come off...? 

The trick is to nest, paint and have the apartment clean before Angie comes home so she can relax and rest while I make dinner and brownies.

I kind of love it.

Yesterday we spent two hours looking at strollers.  Three of them.  We narrowed it down to three of them.  Two hours.  And we still don't know.  Each had a flaw.  Maybe we're too picky.  Who knows.

But the nesting is rather fun.

Home again, home again...

We're back.  After a much needed vacation, we're back.  I could use this post to write a screed about AirTran and their shoddy customer service, but I won't.  Instead, allow me to wish all of you a healthy and happy 2010 and to recap what I learned over the holiday.

First I learned that I love show shoeing.  The solitude suits me.  I also found out that no matter what happens or where I live, the mountains call to me.  There is something appealing to living in the granite embrace of the Rockies.  I would like for my child to experience that one day.

I would like to climb a fourteener.  (A peak above 14,000 feet.)  I think I may have passed my window on that one, but I'm sure my brother would be game for taking me and teaching me the ropes, so to speak. 

I would like my son to do it, or at least aspire to it. 

I learned that I still love to drive long mountain passes to loud music.  My wife doesn't mind it and apparently, from how much he kicked, my child likes it, too.

I learned that I really miss my family.  Both my own and my wife's.  Family is important.  I always say the most interesting stories are about the families we create, but the ones we're born into are pretty amazing.

I learned that an xbox 360 should be played in moderation...   just like wine, good beer and my mom's cooking...  An overdose of any of them will make me tired, drunk and very, very heavy.  (I reeeeeeally like my mother's cooking.  Where do you think I learned.)

I learned that making fresh pasta with my father is a gas.  Since it was our first time, you can imagine we were a little clumsy, but it worked out. 

I learned that even at six months pregnant, my wife still looks pretty hot in her show shoeing outfit - borrowed boots and parka and all. 

I learned that cats communicate better and with more complexity than we know.  Ours was upset, then disturbed, then demanded an explanation, then purred in a way I have never heard before.  All of this after we came home from two weeks away.  Thank you Vincent for taking great care of her.  I learned that you are a true friend.

I learned that the BCS is truly a disaster.  I think I already knew that.

I learned that there is nothing as spectacular as the first view of NYC from 25,000 feet.

I learned that there is no shortage of books on parenting...  I think I now own them all.  They do make wonderful Christmas gifts. 

I learned that my family really keeps secrets well.  Especially when it involves a surprise baby shower.

I learned that babies need a lot of stuff.  Stuff I'm still working on assembling.

I learned that in the end, my life is not about what I do, what I own... It's perfect with my wife next to me, head on my shoulder, our child growing inside her belly, kicking and stretching.

For 2010, we've got big things coming.   First up, PCP's Welcome Mat, then a new play to finish, scripts to write, perhaps my final performance on stage before taking a brief hiatus to enjoy the arrival of our first child in April.  

Then... who knows, but it'll be perfect.

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