Entry #6

On Your Birth

You were born ten days ago. It is Christmas, 2009.
You are sitting on my lap as I type this. You are very small.

So far, most all you do is eat, sleep, poop, pee, and cry.
Sometimes when you fuss, I sing you silly rap songs.

I like you very much.


Some Things You Should Know

You were born on a very cold day. It hadn't really snowed all winter long until you decided you were coming. And then it fell hard. The snow piled quickly and coated the city, like a gingerbread house if the baker got overzealous and frosted everything in thick sugary globs. You are a child of the ice and snow and cold. You are also tardy, but worth the wait.

I was the first living person you looked at. We will always prefer to talk to each other with our eyes.

Five is your lucky number. It will follow you for your entire life.

Elephants are my favorite animal. I will make you like them because I often dream that I am one and I think that means something.

When they were stitching up my wife/your mum, they bundled you up and gave you to me and made us wait in a pale green room. I pulled you very close and whispered to you. I made you three promises. And although that moment might sound very cliched and staged, I assure you it was very real and I was very genuine. The promises are between you and me and I will keep them. I'll make certain.

Entry #5

The last day of summer holidays is like the very worst Sunday Blues, mixed with a touch of lamented morning. And a kick to the balls.

I walk around with a blank expression, looking at the ground and sighing a lot. I wear black and veil my smiles if I see or hear anything humorous. I like depressing music because it gives me direction.

I want others to know I am sad.

I feel like I've been asked to do some role-playing and the little slip of paper I pulled from the session leader's hat says, "emo". Cool. I can do that.

I also tend to clutch at my crotch and wince in pain whenever I'm asked to do anything.

Right before school starts, through no fault of my own, it seems the teacher reverts to a child.

Entry #4

Yesterday we went to the first ultrasound. Unbelievable emotional rush.

The technician was a delightful older Slovakian lady. Very patient with both her patients.

I, watching from the sidelines, was most fascinated by the technology; its history, how it worked, and I was ultimately overwhelmed by how advanced we are, like how one feels when they see shuttle launches or a new gaming system's graphics. The science of it resonated with me.

The lovely lady undergoing the procedure, however, was focused on other concerns; how many fingers, heart rate and other indicators of normalcy, and she was moved by the emotional enormity of the thing, like how one feels when they read a touching book or see a sappy commercial. The love of it resonated with her.

If I was an uncertain soul before then this parenting business is going to thrust me up into a whole new level, I'm sure. But at least I have a partner who has a good habit of taking the opposite point-of-view. I think we're well-equipped for success because, although we'll both be uncertain when it comes to determining how to proceed with the thousands of new critical decisions we're about to have to face, between the two of us one is bound to see things from the right perspective - right?

Entry #3

First day of true break. I stayed in bed with a bad ankle for most of it. I had a laptop and a cellphone and a landline cordless phone all around me. They formed a meditative triangle of isolation. I am a techno-monk.

I spoke with a few friends who don't have jobs. But mostly I read articles on Wikipedia. I'd search one term and allow myself to explore tangential hyperlink after link. The laptop battery died without warning.

I read the first three chapter of a novel I hope to bring into the classroom next September and thought a lot about how to make its antiquated content real and meaningful to today's young people so they will accidentally start to form an awed appreciation for the stylistic craftsmanship of the words.

I haven't figured out how to do that yet.

A glorious day.

Entry #2

So this weekend I attended this big conference on technology and its impact on education. And the impression that the most powerful sessions I attended left me with was that if I wasn't blogging and wiki-ing and twittering and digitally audio-synchratically syncopating, then I wasn't doing my students justice because I wouldn't be equipping them for their world - a world that almost everyone is sure will include all of that techno-absurdity.

After doing the important things like checking my (physical) mail and holding my girl and poking about in the fridge, I found myself in front of the computer, signing up for Twitter accounts like I was Diddy and for RSS feeds I don't understand and I found myself trying to blog - a hobby I've brazenly mocked in others.

Why the heck did I do all of that? That's not me. Other people don't tell me how to think, and dudes at podiums getting paid thousands of dollars don't tell me how to teach.

(The general down in the trenches is the only one I've ever liked taking orders from)

In my opinion, texting is lame. Twitter users are, well, twits. Online diaries are pathetic attempts to publicly bare your private soul - like reading a deep breakup poem at opened mic night to impress some girl in the front row. Lame.

I tried. I tried signing up for accounts and linking them all into some aggregate feedlot and dragging orange icons into teal bubble backgrounds and I tried reading the online conference handouts on the presenters' pretentious blogs and I tried following faqs and online tutorials. And I hated every minute of it.

To me, messing with all that digi-mumbo jumbo isn't embarking on an exciting new journey in education. It didn't fill me with energy and wonder. It just pissed me off. It felt dumb and lame and forced. I'm techno-savvy, but I don't want to be techno-literate if it keeps me from enjoying my real life.

I like my life how it is - trying to stay away from screens and wires and trying to keep things face-to-face. And I'm growing as a teacher just fine out here in the none-digital world. Ask my students. Ask my girl. Ask my friends. Ask my fridge...just walk right up to it and ask it.

Go ahead.

Entry #1

I am uncertain about almost everything. At this moment I am especially uncertain about blogging.