About 15 minutes ago I received a phone call from my son telling me that he had successfully made the 220 mile trip to Florida’s Left Coast. There he will spend the next two nights and three days wandering in the wilderness, kayaking, hiking and whatever the hell else they do in the woods. Doesn’t seem to big a deal right? He’s twelve, its my first born, and I assure you its a big a deal!
It wasn’t that long ago my boy, barely able to crawl, would place himself in barricade position by the front door of our starter house in Pompano when he knew it was time for his Daddy to leave for work. Now he’s in Bradenton at a nature retreat, what the hell?
Now this isn’t going to turn into one of those “my my, where did the time go?” posts. I hate those. I’m of reasonably sound mind and I remember most of where the time went, but it doesn’t make its passage any easier.
When Susi and I found out about the Boy coming into this world we were both in our very early twenties, Susi much earlier than me. We barely knew each other. I was getting over a foul past relationship at the time and Susi had just come to the East Coast of Florida from Fort Mysery (Ft Myers for those without a sense of humor or imagination) to attend FAU. What follows has for lack of a better term; defined us both:
Certain events which I detailed in an earlier post brought us together and on the third date we had, Susi stayed over at my place never to leave again. And believe me there are still times when I wake up and look over and see my wife sleeping happily content in bed next to me and think to myself “Gee, I wonder what the hell happened to that dorm room she said she had, you know I don’t think I ever saw it…”. Thank god my couch is comfy, after that line I’ll be getting acquainted with it tonight!
Anyway, Susi’s happily ensconced in my house in Pompano and at some point I realize I’m going to have to remember just exactly what her name is! You can not run around calling the chick living with you for over a month “Honey, Sugar, Baby, etc” before they catch on that you haven’t a clue what their real name is!
One weekend on a Saturday night, “Honey, Sugar, Baby, etc” Informs me that she’s late. “Uh, late for what, did you have an appointment somewhere?”
No her monthly visitor hasn’t arrived. “Really…” Says I “Well, listen its not that uncommon for women to be late a month, I really wouldn’t worry about it” . I said clearly in control of the situation.
Two months “Honey, Sugar, Baby, etc.” adds on.
Now, when I have major problems in my life I’m often the very last to see the danger ahead for what it is. I’m fantastic at understanding and forecasting other’s issues, my own, well they take a bit to register. This situation was a prime example.
“Ah, ok, tell you what, why don’t you get a pregnancy test tomorrow and while I’m at work, why don’t you take it. I wouldn’t worry though, because this type of thing rarely happens, no matter what the ABC After School Specials said”.
So, the next day I’m in my office working on a fairly substantial network issue (I was massively hungover and it probably was a simple matter of turning a server on) and my desk phone rings, its Sally, or Stacy, damnit I know its an S name! The test is positive.
Again, can’t see the trees for the forest, I casually reply: “Yeah, those things are like 50% accurate, take another and pay it no mind”.
Sara, Samantha, nah none of that shit is right, its an SU name, I’ll get it at some point, says she’s now taken two, and both are positive.
Warning bells are quietly beginning to chime in my head. I know there is a problem looming. And this is probably going to shape up to be quite large. At this point I’ve got a panicked Susan SUSAN, SUSI! HA I GOT IT! on the phone and I tell her that I’ll be home from work in another hour and we’ll we’ll take another and read the instructions and again, these things are like less than 50% accurate.
The drive home with my network engineer buddy who was helping me out that day was quite long. Mind you, its only maybe a 15 mile drive, but still, it was long. My mind is beginning to switch over from denial mode to crisis mode which has always seemed to slow my perception of time down significantly, almost as if Einsteinian time dilation occurred locally in my head only, and only when the shit was millimeters directly in front of the fan.
On entry to the house that Susi and I were sharing in sin, sorry Christian friends, it is what it is, Susi’s very quiet. Those that know my wife I’m sure can understand how wrong that is.
“Well now, lets see those pee sticks and the instructions, and I’ll show you what you did wrong!” Mr Confidence meet Mr Denial, same assholes, even less empathy.
As I read the instructions I come across a very disturbing percentage number, one that I was clearly not expecting: 99% accurate. In big black bold Ariel font for schmucks like me that can’t see under duress. And at that moment I’m analyzing why they would put that information in big black Ariel bold and realize its not for the woman reader; its for the men!
Fuck…… FUCK……. FUCKITY FUCK FUCK DAMN SHIT HELL CRAP FUCK!
A lot of guys like to tell you that the moment they find out they are going to be entrusted with raising a new person that the information hits them like a ton of bricks. That did not happen to me. The emotional side of my brain clicked off and Mr Spock came out to discuss matters with Susi. Susi to this day does not like when Spock is in control, except in cases where he’s needed. Spock quickly analyzed the situation for me and determined that had really three options:
1. Stay with Susi and raise the kid together
2. Raise kid together and leave Susi.
3. RUN LIKE HELL!
Spock knows his limitations and handed back control of my head so I could make the emotional decision required for this.
I chose option 1. We informed both sets of the now soon to be Grandparents (I got a whole post for that one!), and Susi and I decided to learn to live with one another and get ready to be parents.
Some months later in Coral Springs Medical Center my son was born. My first born, my happiness, my pride, my mini me.