Little shots of happy

1. That Crappy McShitass stated of mind that I was dealing with a while back seems to have lifted over the last few weeks. I can't point to any one thing in particularly that sent that wicked little storm cloud on its way, but such is the way with these things sometimes. The way out is usually through.

2. Professor Simon's teaching lessons on cause and effect. Observe:That's right, tickle the fuzzhead (cause), you get a smile (effect).

3. Those of you who keep up with my wife's blog, or who know us in the flesh know that a while back, we were worried that Henry might have lead poisoning. Fucking lead poisoning! What year is this again? Long story short, the kid was showing all the signs, none of which had been apparent prior to us moving into this house we're in, which was built in 1946, lead paint's American heyday. Well, I'm pleased to announce that the results are in and my little boy is just fine. There may be lead in the walls, perhaps a bit in the soil, and maybe even some in my pencil, but none of it seems to have gotten into Henry's bloodstream. Beyond that, both his appetite and his energy level seem to have returned with a vengeance. Of course, now I have all this useless information that I culled from the Texas Property Code just rolling around in my head, looking to be put to use.

4. People keep asking me about how school is going, and I'm starting to feel a bit like a broken record telling them that I took this semester off because of the new baby. I know I'm going back in the fall, but that seems so very far away. Not just timewise, but also because, faithwise, I'm in an odd place. But that's fodder for another post. Still, there's some exceedingly good news on the school front. This little jolt of joy is one that I've been sitting on for a while because I just knew that if I made any sort of announcement about it, it would somehow fall through. I didn't dare say anything before it was absolutely 100% certain, so certain was I of my power to enjinxanate the situation. But we've hit the 100% mark now, so I can tell you. See, my employer has this cool little benefit called tuition assistance where they'll reimburse you the cost of your tuition for any higher learnings you may wish to pursue. There are some strings attached, but they're quite reasonable strings, not like those slightly psychotic strings that like to play mind games. Except the thing is, when I started at the seminary, the company didn't want to approve my request for reasons I never could quite get to the bottom of. Fine. I went ahead with my plans and got through two semesters. Then one morning, I happened to be having a friendly conversation with our company HR guy, and the subject of school comes up. Being the HR guy, he asks if I'm taking advantage of the tuition benefits, to which I respond with my sob story. "Let me see what I can do" he says. Barely an hour later, I get a call back from the benefits department saying they've approved my request. I got all my paperwork in and the check came through.

I suppose I ought to take it as some kind of sign.

I can't do anything right

So the most accurate way to phrase it is just to say that I've been in a shitass mood lately. That's right, shitass. This shitass mood is, of course, compounded by the guilt I feel over being in a shitass mood in the first place. "You've got a brand-spankin' new baby boy," I tell myself, "an amazing two year old, a beautiful, wonderful, loving wife. You got every reason in the world to be happy, ecstatic even, walking on air...so WTF, Self?" In response, I simply scowl back at myself, and go get another cup of coffee.

It's a chicken vs. egg question, in some ways. This mood, it almost feels like all sense of selflessness, of caring for others, hell, of love is drained out of me, like I got nothing to give. But of course, I've got people relying on me to be able to give, so there's no getting out of it. So I end up feeling resentful, selfish angry, etc., followed by guilt for feeling that way and for being a jackass towards the people I'm supposed to love the most. I haven't been patient, I haven't been kind, I haven't been slow to anger.

But of course I do love my family. It's just been difficult to, I don't know, act like it. I wish I could chalk it all up to being tired, but I've a feeling that doesn't quite cover it. Or maybe it does and I'm making a big stink over nothing. There's this ideal version of me who lives in that part of my imagination where I dream up all all things ideal. That guy is relaxed. That guy isn't fazed by much. That guy is not only willing, but happy to drop everything when he's needed. That guy is able to live in the moment, and is okay with whatever life throws at him. That guy doesn't ask the world to make him ecstatically happy, but is content with, well, being content.

Unfortunately for all involved, I'm soooo not that guy. At least not these days. I've been that guy before, but lately I'm my own antithesis. And that knowledge just seems to upset me more.

Oh yeah, and then there's this whole crisis of faith thing. I've never been totally set on what I believe about God and the divine, but as of late I'm starting to wonder if there's anything to believe in at all. I've heard it said by many people that they envy people of faith for their certainty, a notion which I've always sort of laughed at since my own faith has never been certain at all. It's an endless stream of questions and doubt, wondering and contradicting, and in fact, I find lately that I actually envy atheists for, what seems to me, their certainty about things, or at least the ability not to be bugged by all these goddamn questions. But of course, I'm totally oversimplifying that position. Anyway, it oughtta make next semester at seminary, um, interesting.

So yeah, shitass mood lately. I'm going to post this without proofreading it and then go try to make up for it a little by rubbing my wife's feet.

It's coming back around again

So it would seem that Mr. Boy is clued in to the fact that there is this thing called Christmas coming down the pipe pretty soon. About a week ago, I started asking him if he wanted to get a Christmas tree, and his response has evolved from a suspicious nod of the head to an excitedly whispered "yeah!", delivered with that tone that's reserved for children who are on to something magical and big that promises to blow open the boundaries of their reality.

So tonight we went down to the tree lot and picked out a suitable specimen. "Pick me" said this one tree. "I'll hold your lights and your little baubles with dignity." And so we did. As I tied the tree to the top of our wagon, I felt that familiar twinge of anxiety I get every time I tie something down for transport. See, I'm only good at like 2.5 things, and knot-tying accounts for 1.2 of those, so if my knots fail, if word gets out that an Eagle Scout couldn't even secure a Christmas tree to the top of a car, well the ramifications make my stomach go gurgle. But I got the tree home, in spite of the fact that we had to go to four different stores before we found one that had any tree stands in stock.

With the tree safely secured, it was dinner time at Ashley's folks' place. We've spent a fair amount of time over there lately since The Ash's uncle has moved in with them to spend his last days. I don't know her Uncle Richie all that well since he's been a recluse for most of the years of our relationship, but from what little time I've spent around him, I know that I like him and wish I knew him better. Over these last few days, even with the pain of terminal cancer, he's shown the intellect and spark of a man who is still, in some ways, very much alive.

The after-dinner portion of this evening was somewhat surreal. I played sudoku, Henry played with his grandma and great aunt, and Richie placed his signature in all the necessary places in the document containing his last will and testament. The Ash, her sister, and her dad also affixed their signatures as witnesses. I suppose it should have been a morbid moment, and perhaps from a different perspective it could be viewed as such, but it didn't feel quite so to me. More like family doing what family has to do when presented with painful reality. It was very quiet except for Henry, who wasn't falling for that "let's play 'The Quiet Game'" nonsense.

I was thinking about Richie as I drove home from the semester's very last class period today. It hasn't escaped anyone's notice that this family is about to experience both a death and a birth any day now. And even though this is a Texas December and I was wearing shorts today, it's still the end of the year, and there's still that sense of the world settling down and waiting to be reborn into a new year. And perhaps it was because I was coming home from theology class and my mind was especially open to the beauty of the stories and metaphors that we all live and walk through every day, and perhaps, yes, maybe there was a song playing on the radio that I like in spite of myself, but I got hit with one of those blessed moments of beautiful Melancholy where everything in the world feels intensely connected. Yeah, there may have been a few tears.

Our tree is now standing in the corner of the living room of our little house, waiting for tomorrow when it will be adorned with lights, decor, perhaps the odd action figure. It will be the first Christmas that my eldest son starts to "get it", and my youngest's very first Christmas at all. Maybe we can make ourselves a few memories for keeps.