My Passion

HR told me that someone asked her the other day, “What is your passion?” She was struggling with pinpointing something in her life that she’d consider a passion. While trying to talk through it with her, it got me to thinking about my own life, and what is my passion?

I think it's best to start with the true meaning of passion, which is “a willingness to suffer for what you love.” So what do I feel so strongly about that I’m willing to suffer for it? Or more aptly give up something else equally or more enjoyable to choose this instead? I believe the answer is emphatically and without a doubt...Troy.

My wife asked me if I’m passionate about writing or taking photographs. I thought about it and answered, “No.” I only enjoy them in so much as they relate to chronicling Troy’s life. I want to preserve these moments and memories with him, so that I can share them with others and enjoy them myself again and again. And maybe one day share them with Troy himself.

I’m definitely willing to suffer and give up things for him. I already am on a constant basis, and I have no regrets about that. If the choice is him or something else, there really is no choice. So while others may have passion for things, or a career, or a hobby; I have passion for my son.

Rock-a-bye Baby

Rock-a-bye baby
On the tree top.
When the wind blows,
the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks,
the cradle will fall.
And down will come baby,
cradle and all.

Generally speaking, I am not a fan of the song "Rock-a-bye Baby." While it's got a catchy tune, I've never understood how you can sing lyrics to a baby about a bough breaking and the baby falling down. It never made sense to me how this was appropriate for children. But we've all heard it, and we've probably all sung it anyway. This aversion on my part led me to look up the meaning of the song and hopefully ascertain how it became a children's song in the first place. And this is what I found (from Wikipedia)...

Origin Theory #1
One theory suggests the rhyme narrates a mother gently rocking her baby to sleep, as if the baby were riding the treetops during a breeze; then, when the mother lowers the baby to her crib, the song says "down will come baby."

Origin Theory #2
Another identifies the rhyme as the first English poem written on American soil, suggesting it dates from the 17th century and that it may have been written by an English colonist who observed the way Native American women rocked their babies in birch-bark cradles, which were suspended from the branches of trees, allowing the wind to rock the baby to sleep.

Origin Theory #3
In Derbyshire, England, local legend has it that the song relates to a local character in the late 18th century, Betty Kenny (Kate Kenyon), who lived with her husband, Luke, and their eight children in a huge yew tree in Shining Cliff Woods in the Derwent Valley, where a hollowed-out bough served as a cradle.

Origin Theory #4
Yet another theory is that the song is from the 17th-century British navy to describe the 'tree top, or cradle' (now commonly referred to as the crows nest) the powder boys (or cabin boys) had to climb up too to keep a look out. If you keep in mind this was the highest point in the ship and read the lyrics with this thought the Nursery Rhyme makes perfect sense. "When the wind blows, the cradle will rock", The highest point of the ship will rock the most. "When the bough breaks,the cradle will fall". The Bough is the front of the ship, and the bough breaking describes the front of the ship breaking over a wave. "And down will come Baby,Cradle and all". It was almost common place that the cradle would break during a storm.

Origin Theory #5
Yet another theory has it that the lyrics, like the tune "Lilliburlero" it is sung to, refer to events immediately preceding the Glorious Revolution of 1688. The baby is supposed to be the son of James VII and II, who was widely believed to be someone else's child smuggled into the birthing room in order to provide a Roman Catholic heir for James. The "wind" may be that Protestant "wind" or force "blowing" or coming from the Netherlands bringing James' nephew and son-in-law William of Orange, who would eventually depose King James II in the revolution. The "cradle" is the royal House of Stuart. The earliest recorded version of the words in print appeared with a footnote, "This may serve as a warning to the Proud and Ambitious, who climb so high that they generally fall at last," which may be read as supporting a satirical meaning. It would help to substantiate the suggestion of a specific political application for the words; however, if they and the "Lilliburlero" tune could be shown to have been always associated.

I feel that Origin Theory #5 is most likely the truth, as we often throughout history have had "fun" and "harmless" children's songs or books that masked political or historical things going on in culture at the time (see origin theory about the Great Plague for the song "Ring-a-round the Rosie" or hidden meanings in The Wizard of Oz). Writers would hide meanings so as not to come under direct scrutiny or aim of the exact "powers that be" that they were writing about. Also, it's too coincidental that both had the same tune.

That being said, my favorite theory has to be Origin Theory #2. I like the idea of Native Americans rocking their babies to sleep by hanging them in trees and letting the wind blow the cradles. This one also seems plausible since the timing of it lines up with the first published copy of this song in Mother Goose's Melody in 1765.

Having done all of this research and dug into the history of the song more, I now have a deeper respect for it. I have always liked historical "mysteries" like this, and it makes me see the song in a whole new light. I still might not sing it to my son, but at least I have an answer if he ever asks me about its meaning!

Lefty

Well Troy is most probably left-handed, at least when he throws balls. He has these little plastic balls from his ball pit that he likes to throw through the fence on the balcony from the second floor. He always throws them with his left hand. This is odd, because he’ll do other things with his right hand, like eating or picking up things. But when it comes to sports, he's a lefty. The funny thing about this is that if he ends up left-handed, then that will mean all of my parents grandchildren are left-handed, when all of their children are right-handed. So, who knows where they got this from!

Kleptomaniac

Our son is a kleptomaniac. He’ll run into the room, grab something...any random object...and run off with it before we can blink an eye. He’ll also go around the house taking things off shelves, off book cases, out of kitchen cabinets, out of drawers, and off desktops; and he’ll take them to another part of the house and hide them. I have found house shoes on top of chairs, socks under curtains, unused diapers in trash cans, underwear in the shower, travel mugs stuffed in between couch cushions, and phone cables in the potted plants. You never know what he took or where you’ll find it. It is a guarantee, though, that he will pick the most awkward moment to pull out your most intimate things. Like when he came running through the house in front of the maid, waving my wife's underwear over his head.

And he has neither fear nor remorse about his bad habit. The best example of this is when the cheeky, little bugger walked right up to me as I sat on the couch reading something on my phone, and he took my piece of cheese off my leg and left me a much smaller, half-eaten piece in its place. When I reached down to get my cheese, I grabbed a soggy, chewed-on lump instead!

Eating Dirt

So, my wife decided that since we can’t go anywhere, she wants me to put in a pool, so we can swim in the backyard. She bought a pool last year, but it was a disaster, because the success of the pool is directly dependent on the ground underneath it being level. Since our backyard slopes in the back to allow for better drainage, this negated our ability to put the pool up properly. Thus, we were only able to fill it maybe a quarter of the way up, which is tantamount to sitting in a puddle on a sunny day.

So, this time around, she wanted me to build a retaining wall, so we could level part of the yard for the pool. This was and is still a huge undertaking. Building the wall is fine, but leveling it is tough. Plus our backyard is essentially just rocks and clay. To her credit, my wife did come out and try to help me, but Troy was being a nuisance, so she couldn’t stay out long. He was running around splashing in the mud and eating the dirt. Yes, you read that correctly, he was eating the dirt. What prompted him to even stick it in his mouth in the first place, I don’t know. But what prompted him to chew and swallow it, is even more of a mystery.

It instantly reminded me of my stepfather. We were working up at my mom’s and his lake house one time, and I had dirt fly in my mouth. Unlike Troy, I flipped out. I’m a germaphobe, and I do not like dirt in my mouth. I was spitting and looking for some water, when my stepfather said, “It’s okay. We all have to eat a pound of dirt before we die.” I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m pretty sure after today, Troy has hit his quota!

What Sound Does a Goldfish Make?

In order to break Troy from the unhealthy stronghold of technology on his life, I have laid down a law that he will no longer be viewing any TV or music videos while he eats. Instead, I have forced him back to his books, which surprisingly, he has taken to quite well. The only downside is that he still requires a little bit of entertainment while he eats, which usually consists of me doing the voices of the animals in his books.

I do a pretty good bird, duck, horse, frog, cat, dog, donkey, and sheep...if I do say so myself. My goose, elephant, and lion aren't bad either. However, my bear sounds a little like Chewbacca from Star Wars...okay, it sounds a LOT like Chewbacca. Fortunately, Troy is not familiar with this character yet, so he accepts my bear without judgement. The real problem is when we get to the goldfish. I'm at a total loss. Troy looks up at me expectantly, but I have no idea what sound a goldfish makes. I could fudge it, I suppose, he really wouldn't know the difference, but I believe in instilling him with worldly accuracy where possible. So, I stand there with a blank look on my face and silence from my lips. Eventually, I end up making bubble sounds, because that is the closest I can think to what they must sound like. He seems satisfied by this and turns the page, much to my relief. But that relief is short-lived when the next page reveals a teacher!

First Kiss!

This evening, we decided to take Troy down to the gazebo near the visitor center to run around in the grass. They have a big open spot there and it’s softer than our backyard. When we arrived, another family was also walking up. They had a cute little two year old named Calla with short reddish hair and pretty blue eyes. She was wearing a white dress with flowers on it and sandals. As they walked around the gazebo, Calla spotted a puddle on the sidewalk. She asked if she could play in it, so they took off her sandals, and off she went, splashing and sloshing water everywhere.

Troy immediately spotted her and the puddle and made a beeline straight for them. The two of them were instant friends, frolicking and playing in the water together. Troy, even though a year younger was almost the exact same height as Calla, and he probably weighed the same too, being stocky to her willowy thinness. Round and round, back and forth they went, talking and laughing, enjoying the water.

And then, Troy suddenly stopped right in front of Calla, leaned over, and kissed her right on the lips! His first kiss with a girl who wasn’t his mama. At first, Calla was startled by this, maybe it was her first kiss from anyone period, who knows. But she must have enjoyed it, because she immediately started trailing after Troy, and any time he’d stop, she’d lean in for another kiss. But Troy wasn’t having it. He’d wave her off and start going again. He’d gotten what he wanted, and now he was leaving his options open! Besides, there was still a puddle to play in.

Mama, Son Time

I walked into my wife's office today to see her and Troy watching funny baby animal videos on YouTube. Both of them were engrossed in the screen and laughing. Every time Troy would see something he'd like, he'd excitedly point at the screen and scream, "DA!" in a loud and piercing voice. He was so excited that he nearly fell off the little basket that she had him sitting on every time he did it. Somehow he kept his balance and never took his eyes off the screen.

Greatest Gift

I was laying with my son today as he woke up from his nap, and he turned his head to me and smiled. I don’t know why, but seeing that beautiful face smiling at me caused me to start crying. Something broke inside me, a dam holding back emotions I didn’t even know I was storing up. I prayed right then, a prayer of thanksgiving for the greatest gift I have ever received. I could never have even imagined or thought up something as wonderful as my son, but God gave him to me anyway. I love my son so much it hurts. So much that just acknowledging it makes me start to cry. It’s as if my cup truly is overflowing. And I can’t imagine wanting anything else for myself for the rest of my life, because what could possibly compare?

Nonsensical Rhymes

I was trying to read A Wocket in My Pocket by Dr. Seuss to my son today, and it suddenly occurred to me that it takes very little talent to write nonsensical rhymes. In the book, he basically talks about common things around the house, like a lamp or sofa, and then he makes up a nonsensical word that rhymes with it, like a Zamp or Bofa. Having written poetry for years and struggled with trying to rhyme words and keep the flow, I know how hard it is...at least with real words. I think I’d be able to churn out hundreds of books too if I didn’t have to worry about my subjects being real. I never really enjoyed Dr. Seuss much, and maybe this is why. I don’t respect him like I respect true authors. To put this in perspective, my favorite Dr. Seuss book is Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb; and it's not even by Dr. Seuss, it's by Al Perkins! It's just in the Dr. Seuss book collection.

That being said, my wife said that they never really had Dr. Seuss books in Greece when she was growing up. I told her that’s because you could never translate them and keep the rhyming essence. I asked her what Zamp or Bofa would translate to in Greek. She said nothing. Which means they’d have to stay Zamp or Bofa, and then wouldn’t rhyme with what lamp (lámpa) or sofa (kanapés) translated to. And then can you imagine trying to think up a nonsensical rhyme for "kanapés"? "And the Banapés on the kanapés doesn't seem to care." I guess it's not that hard after all, which only proves my point.

This logically led to us laughing that the only true way to enjoy Dr. Seuss must be to be high...at least we imagine, since we've never been high. “Oh man, I love this stuff. This is some deep crap. Dr. Seuss really gets me, man...he really gets me. Read some more."

Coronavirus: Scavenger Hunt

In an effort to stay engaged with my team at work, I decided to do a virtual scavenger hunt with a "Quarantined at Home" theme. So every mission was something that could be found or done at home. For example, take a photo while doing a yoga pose or playing a board game with your family. It was a huge success and everyone that played seemed to have a lot of fun. It even got really competitive at the end as it turned from a two-team race to a three-team race.

The only feedback I got was that since I’m always the organizer of these kinds of events, I never get to participate. So, with a few hours left in the game, I decided to give it a shot. So I conscripted Troy and my wife to help me, and we ran around doing poses, trying to find things, and taking photos. Well, let’s just say I did, and Troy and my wife watched me, laughing. I did grab them for a couple of pictures, so they didn’t completely escape the madness. In the end, I had a lot of fun, and my team enjoyed laughing at all of my embarrassing photos.

Social Butterfly

Troy is quite the social butterfly when we go out on our strolling excursions. He will quite literally greet everyone he sees on the street with a hand wave and a soft "Hi." What I probably enjoy more than this gesture is seeing how people will react to it. I mean if I was doing this, then I'd probably get mostly ignored, especially by the younger kids (I guess I scream stranger-danger). I'd probably have mixed results with the adults. But how can you not react to a little 15-month old baby softly and sweetly telling you "Hi"? And yet...and yet...some people don't. If we were to break this down into a psychology experiment, it might go something like this...

Test Group 1 - Adult Females
The women eat it up. They love smiling at him and telling him "Hi" back. They usually will also ask him additional questions, believing that he's interested in engaging them in conversation...which he most assuredly is not. He will typically look at them like they've grown a second head until we stroll on to the next encounter. There are a couple of them that we pass every day, and they even remember Troy and acknowledge him first, which he does seem to like.

CONCLUSION: Either way it is initiated, there is an overall positive response from this test group.

Test Group 2 - Adult Males
This group is a lot less likely to acknowledge Troy. Whether it is the typical male bravado preventing them from expressing emotions or an actual lack of emotion toward a waving baby, Troy rarely gets anything back from them. If he does, then it's usually a stiff and formal "Hi" and that's it. Mostly, I get a head nod, and Troy gets ignored.

CONCLUSION: Overall not an overwhelming positive response from this test group.

Test Group 3 - Pre-Teen and Teenager Females
This group seems to find Troy utterly adorable. They will not only respond to him with the best smiles and laughter, but will usually point out his cuteness to others in their group or family. If we were not in a pandemic right now, there is a high likelihood that they would probably also approach him to engage him further. Knowing what kind of flirt my son is, I believe this response would also be welcome and appreciated.

CONCLUSION: Best response from any test group...complete heart melt.

Test Group 4 - Pre-Teen and Teenager Males
This group tends to completely ignore both of us, but especially Troy. There is a distinct disinterest from this group in a baby, finding him neither cute nor noteworthy in any way. They will usually pass by as quickly as possible so as to be spared the agony of being forced into actual human interaction.

CONCLUSION: Worst response from any test group...complete apathy.

Test Group 5 - Children Both Genders
I will lump both genders together in this test group, because the response is almost always exactly the same. They are at first surprised that someone is addressing them at all, thinking or possibly hoping that they are in fact invisible to adults (and babies by association). They will then have a conflicted few seconds where they struggle between the social norms that they've been taught to respond with politely and stranger-danger tendencies that have also been drilled into their heads. This is heightened if they're on their own versus being with others in a group. Ultimately, realizing that the gesture actually came from an innocent little baby and not the "creepy" guy pushing the stroller, they will give an equally-quiet and tentative "Hi" back and then ride or walk on as quickly as possible.

CONCLUSION: Definitely the most interesting response from any test group, and probably the easiest to understand.

OVERALL CONCLUSION: A better response from females in general as compared to males. The age range of 12-18 yielded the best response in females and the worst response in males. There is definitely a higher response rate to Troy than myself.

Coronavirus: Solo Act

Unfortunately, my wife had to go back to work today. This means I was solo making breakfast and feeding Troy. Usually (okay, every time), my wife is the one that actually feeds Troy, and I provide the entertainment. But today, I had to do it all. Luckily, he ended up reading his books while I methodically scooped up food on the spoon, dodged his hands and the turning pages of the books, and shoveled food into his open mouth. We had one bad moment where his waving hand knocked the spoon out of my fingers and sent cereal flying across the room. But for the most part, we managed better than I thought we would. Which is good, because we’re going to have to do it two more times this week.

This also means that I had to essentially take off work and entertain Troy for half the day while we waited for my wife to get off. So, we took an early walk while it was still cool outside, and then we went home and played for a bit until it was time for lunch. I was solo on lunch as well, but we had similar success to breakfast. Then, he was down for his nap.

I guess the good thing is that I have a little bit more flexible schedule right now with few meetings on certain days. However, I'm not sure if this will hold up as we go forward. I'm now caught between the unbending demands of her job and my own...while also the necessity of caring for Troy. Lord, give me strength!

Mother's Day - Part 2

Since we are quarantined for Mother's Day this year, I was limited on options for a gift for my wife. And with Troy being old enough to participate this year, I wanted him to have a part in it too. So, buying something was out, because that would require shopping. I suppose I could have attempted to get her something online, but truth be told, that just didn't seem personal enough. Besides, I honestly think I set the bar too high last year with the pendant of his footprint from when he was born. I mean how do you top that?!

So, I released my mind to its creative exploration and decided to write my wife a poem. But not just any poem, it had to be something from Troy's perspective, since technically she's his mother, not mine. So, I embarked to think of all of the interactions they have together, focusing on the things that seem to bring him the most joy. Then, it was a matter of setting it down in rhyming verse, which took me a couple of weeks to perfect.

But it still wasn't quite right yet. It needed some kind of presentation that made it even more special. So, I took an outline of Troy's hand and cut it out of two pieces of construction paper. Then, I interlaced them together to make a sort of heart. I glued this to a black background. Now, I had my backdrop, but the dark background would wash out the words of the poem. So, I had the idea to transcribe the poem onto butcher paper, which would provide a whitish quality to help set off the writing while also providing a translucence so you could still see the background through the paper. The whole effect was exactly how I imagined, and Troy seemed satisfied with the result as well.

Pacifier Kisses

Tonight, while my wife and I laid on the bed, waiting for Troy to fall asleep, he crawled over to me, and gave me a kiss on the lips. This might not have been so unusual, except he still had the pacifier in his mouth when he did it! So, instead of the sweet, soft kiss that I’d normally get, I got a rubber tubular kiss instead. Being as it was dark, I didn’t know at that moment that I was being proffered a pinkish, translucent pacifier. It wasn’t until I kissed him back, and it made a hollow echoing sound as it reverberated through the reversed nipple that I knew something was different. The sound and the gesture made Troy giggle. He then walked across the bed to my wife and repeated the action with her. Back and forth, kissing us through the pacifier and giggling each time. Life with Troy is definitely interesting. He can make a game and find laughter out of anything!

Under Pressure

Lately, we've been having to distract Troy with music videos to get him to eat. The old method of reading him a book or playing with his toys wasn't working anymore. I guess even a baby has his limits on how many times he can be entertained by "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." The upside to the videos is that we have an inexhaustible number of options. The downside is that he's become technology-obsessed. Every time he sees the iPad, he goes nuts until we put a video on for him, and then he's sucked into the hypnotic trance of the tractor beam. For now, we are doing our best to limit him and doing whatever we can to get him to eat.

One of his favorite videos is the song Under Pressure from Happy Feet 2. At the start of the video, Bryan the Beachmaster is complaining to Mumbles that there is no way that dancing around on the ice is going to make a huge piece of ice break off. The other elephant seals start arguing with Bryan to stop complaining and just try it. And suddenly, Erik the baby penguin starts singing, "na-nuh-nuh-na-na-nuh-nuh," the opening notes to Under Pressure. The other animals slowly start adding their own voice to the song, until you have a beautiful a cappella version of the song. Oh and all the while, Bryan and the other elephant seals are providing the bass beat by slamming their bodies into the ice (so maybe there are instruments after all).

We have watched this video so many times, that Troy has started to sing "na-nuh-nuh-na-na-nuh-nuh" as he walks around the house. When my wife and I chime in with him, he gets a big grin on his face. At least for now, we all still enjoy the song, and it gets us singing together...so win-win.

Hide and Seek

Just to jazz it up a little bit, I have been turning Troy's and my daily chase game into chase / hide-and-seek. I'll go running away from him, around the corner, into some room, and then I'll hide...usually behind the door. Actually, now that I think about it, it's more like a game of chase / Marco Polo, because Troy will follow me as fast as his little legs can carry him; but when he loses sight of me, he'll start calling out, "dada?" I'll of course reply, "yes, baby?" He'll repeat his call, and I'll repeat my reply. And he'll follow the sound of my voice to locate me.

At first, my hiding was still effective, because he could figure out what room I was in, but he couldn't find me. But now, he's learned my tricks, and he automatically looks behind the door first. I will have to change it up, I guess, so he still gets challenged. As soon as he finds me, he takes off in the opposite direction, laughing with such joy. And I race after him, staying a few steps behind him, but pretending that he's just too fast for me to catch him.

Wingman

Troy is a terrible wingman. If I was thinking that I was going to get flirted with by women when Troy and I go out together, I was wrong. They always say that puppies and babies are women magnets. Which is true for the most part. What they fail to tell you is that women will cease to notice the other entity standing there when puppies and babies are present. I become the DUFF when Troy is around.

Troy and I pass this same woman every day while she’s walking her dog. Today, she told my wife that she saw my wife and Troy out yesterday. I’m the one that takes Troy out every day! So that means I’m so invisible that this woman actually thought I was a woman too! I have a beard for crying out loud!

DISCLAIMER: My wife is strongly suggesting that I clarify that I am not now nor will be in the future looking for “action” from strange women on the sidewalk. I am hypothetically stating a fact that Troy is so cute that I become less noticeable than normal when he’s around. Much like I do when my wife is around.