Two Years

I never distract myself from thinking about Joel, but on certain days I realize how much time I spend distracting myself from, as we've coined it, being fucking sad. I let myself be "focused" at least a couple times here lately.

As always, we love you, Joel, and we wish we'd been able to meet you.


Now begins Year Three...

Return of the Blog

My kids are pretty fucking amazing.

I mean, I know your kids are pretty cool too, but seriously, my kids? Total rockstars.

Now sure, I realize that feeling is probably some kind of genetic response to insure I actually take care of my kids, and that every sane parent feels that way (and certainly even some of the insane ones). This of course is not uncommon knowledge. The fact that parents loooOOOooove their kids is pretty well documented throughout the course of history. Excluding that Abraham guy. Man, what a douchebag. (and if that story didn't make you scratch your head a bit when you first heard it, well, God wants you buy some magic beans. Fortunately, I have some! leave your banking information in the comments section)

So yeah, everyone knows parents love their kids, but the issue is how many non-parents understand it? It pains me to ask that question, because there is nothing that screams "asshole" to me more than a parent who avoids a conversation about their parenting with some variation of "you couldn't understand unless you have kids". The one that really gets me is "you'll understand when your kids are older". Recently, however, I've been starting to see the nugget of legitimacy in the middle of that steaming pile of avoidance.

For instance, we recently had CPS called on us. Yes, really. It was total B.S. and was ruled to be an unfounded claim. Get the story in all its hilarity at the link above. When I told my boss I needed to go home to deal with this and meet with the CPS worker, it was pretty clear I was only getting to leave because he knew he couldn't not let me go. Sure, I know its a hassle, but CPS is serious shit man!

A more pertinent example involves my wife, Jess. More specifically, my wife's psychologist. In diagnosing her with post-traumatic stress, he stated in fairly direct terms, that it was completely abnormal to still be thinking of Joel on a daily basis close to two years after his death. (Again, you can get the full details at her blog) Now sure, my wife was there for a reason, but am I crazy for thinking that it's ridiculous to suggest we shouldn't still be thinking of Joel?

Yeah, we realize days of intense sadness shouldn't be the norm, and they aren't by any means, but NOT think of him? We do kinda have two walking, talking reminders running around this place. It should be no surprise that every milestone we celebrate for Jules and Blair is accompanied by the reality that we will never celebrate these things for Joel.

I mean, he is our son. We have pictures. His ashes, clothes and blanket sit in our bedroom. We keep a lock of his hair (seriously, dude had some thick, curly hair). We do not deny or ignore him; we accept and celebrate our lost son. Our loss is a fact of our lives. His death and the experiences surrounding it quite literally changed our lives. To not think of him, I believe, would be insane. I think most people could "understand" that. Not like we expect you to completely empathize, or that we should never have to explain or explore how we're feeling. But yeah, I think its understandable.

So here we are, heading into his second birthday. Tomorrow marks two years he since we were told Joel had died. It would be two more days before he was born. I've probably said it a million times at this point (but hey, its a blog reboot, so I can repeat some things), I know how difficult those days were for me, and though I was right there the whole time, I couldn't begin to imagine what it must've been like for Jess.

So if we're little off, here at the end of May, you'll have to forgive us. Maybe let us know you "understand", or give a smile (or a bottle of booze).

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N ow, lets talk about YOU. If you're new here, go play in the archives. There's plenty more about the wonders of being a DB Daddy. And some funny too! (honestly, if you want the funny, start with The Quest, cause my balls are hilarious) With any luck I'll get back in the habit of updating more often. Probably with shorter entries and varied subject matter. As for now, my lil rockstars are demanding an audience.

Long time no see...but this ain't for you.

I thought maybe this was classier than posting it on her Facebook page...

Happy Mother's Day Honey!

I feel like patchwork.

Spare parts and duct tape, a machine moving and functioning even though perhaps it should not. Climbing hills that should be impassable by such a broken down bucket of bolts. Occasionally stalling, but generally moving headlong into labors and endeavors.

Inside, the joints strain as belts and gears threaten to fly apart causing irreparable damage to this fragile colossus.

Image by Ro

But deeper inside, protected by a web of snaking cables and hoses, lies a chamber that powers this wreck. Within is an energy the machine does not understand; the warm glow of life that should have been.
The image of a child, forever sleeping, surrounded by light and warmth, radiating a glow that feeds life,
creates life,
is life.

The machine should collapse. Should implode upon the chamber, encasing it, surrounding it, protecting it forever.
But the glow pours through the cogs and wheels, keeping them at their work. And the glow makes the machine take notice.
Take notice of the other lights around him, the two other machines, small and perfect, treading along in it's path. Examining and collecting the debris it leaves in its wake, learning and cataloging from the work of the great patchwork machine.

And so it carries on, inexplicably, for them, because of them.

Don't need any wipes...

Cause I ain't done shit. (Somehow that seemed clever in my head, but if its enough to get me rolling, I'll take it) But really,Ive been abnormally lazy these last few weeks. Jules 3rd birthday and Christmas or Krismas or Yule or Mega-Mega-Present Day (we'e having a bit of an identity crisis) went great, then we all got sick...and were dumped on by old man winter. It was the perfect storm to create a wave of lazy that I am just now fighting my way out of.

Of course I have a ton of things to be doing (as if that ever changes), but Blair is conked out on me right now, so why not blog?

First, the kiddos: Jules and Blair are both huge. Blair at 6 months is roughly the size of a 1o month old, and Jules is measuring at the height of a nearly 4 year old! Plus they are pretty great together.

I'm still trudging through grad school for... some reason. It certainly has led me to decide that while I do enjoy my job (what I do every day in the classroom)
but I cannot stand my career (all this extra shit). I've rally got to strt pushing to be a stay at home dad.

Doing more stand-up this week. Basically the same set, just going to try and rework it a bit, strengthen the delivery, not suck, etc. This too is a source of some anxiety but also some "oomph" to get me off my ass and start producing.

To assist with said production of, well, anything and everything really, I'm going to blow Jess' savings on a smartphone...and a replacement wedding band. Yep, I'm "that guy" in yet another way. I have no clue where it went or how I lost it, but it is gone. Sadness and shame abound (mostly shame).

So if you follow me here or on twitter or facebook (all 5 of you) then you can look forward to me pummeling you with useless crap more often once I gets me into the new millennia with one of them phones. And hopefully that will also lead to some quality work as well, which is my real hope.

Snow Angels

It's a custom among we dead baby parents to share mementos in honor of one another's children. So my wife went out into our untouched snow and wrote the names of Joel and other children we have come to know of through our DB-family.
After posting pics, she noted if any were missing, to please let her know.
Her friend, with two living children, asked to have her kids added.

We immediately called the police.


That, ladies and gentlemen, is a joke. Well, the snow pictures aren't. She really made them and they are really sweet.



As for the joke, it may be the only one I've written yet with a clear punchline. This concerns me since my "light" I spoke of in the last blog entry so long ago was that I have finally taken the plunge and started trying to work open mic nights at the local comedy club. So far I have only performed once, and I wasn't boo'ed off stage, so I guess thats a good sign.

Don't worry though, I'm not taking the dead baby stuff to the stage. Don't think I'm quite funny enough to bring 'em back from such a serious topic. But who knows, maybe one day?

This little light of mine

Shakespeare told us that conscience makes cowards of us all -- fear of what comes after death makes us stay and suffer those oft-mentioned slings and arrows of life.

Joel does not know that fear. He has dreamt in the warmth of the womb and moved on to dream the dreams that we can never share.


I found this, today, in a notebook I tried to keep all sorts of thoughts in, particularly those occurring in the days and weeks immediately following Joel's death.

Originally, it was the notebook I used to try and brainstorm jokes and bits for that pipe dream day where I try and do stand-up. Honestly, the material was pretty crappy.

But I made a promise to... the air, I made a promise that I would try and be more productive in my life; that I would do stuff. And that is what lead me back to that notebook tonight, and to my own words -- well, my theft of and blending with Shakespeare's words (but what does his dead ass care?)-- my words that gave me some level of comfort. I went back to look at those unfortunately useless jokes because I'm going to do something.

I will fail. This is practically guaranteed. But I've got promises to keep.


On October 15th, I'll be shining a light for Joel and all the other babies that never got a chance to dodge those slings and arrows. I hope you will join us, and if you have a baby you had to say goodbye to too soon, I will be thinking of you, whether we know each other or not.



A few days later, I'll try this thing I'm talking about. I'll let you know how it goes.