So it's... that is... I'm... I mean... we're... done.

First I'd like to say thanks to those of you who offered words of support and/or advice before I did this. It has been another interesting experience in a couple of ways that I will describe.

Second, I'd like to put a disclaimer here: if this stuff makes you uncomfortable, read with care, or in little spurts, or not at all. You can always try putting your head between your knees and... you know what? if you can't handle this, you need to get you a pair. I'm not getting too deep into it... like feeling him tugging at times... hehe - let's move on...

Third, all of this reminds me of this video from the movie Johnny Dangerously, especially when i see how swollen things can be down there:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ukOaQLKjLyE

So the appointment was supposed to be at noon. The day before they called and moved it to 2:15pm. That's not a big deal considering I don't exactly have the most strict of schedules. I was feeling slightly apprehensive about the whole thing, and even now I feel a slight twinge of loss on occasion. However, when I was laying on the table, shaved and twice-sterile (I moved the cloth to cover me when the nurse opened the door, and they had to sterilize me again) I had no reservations. I felt quite calm and relaxed. I was slightly nervous about the shot, because I wasn't sure how much it might hurt to have a needle stuck in my scrotum. Twice. That turned out to be no worse than a needle stuck anywhere else. The pain was yet to come. Not a whole lot, but as men know, pain in that area has this weird way of climbing up the abdomen.

A little backstory. I have always been quite resistant to analgesics. I usually double the recommended dosage of headache medicine just to touch the pain. 4 ibuprofen instead of two. 4 aspirin, instead of two. etc. Maybe that's not that abnormal, but anything less just doesn't do it for me.

Ironically I saw how much anasthesia he was putting in the needle, and asked if he was putting all of that in there. He said rather quickly, "Oh no! It's just in case." I said, "I don't think it will all fit." We all chuckled about that...

So he puts the first bit in on the right side. Little pinch, little burn. Then he IMMEDIATELY gets to work. I don't feel anything at first, then a good bit of pain that goes right up my abdomen. I tell him to stop. He puts in more anasthesia. At this point I am now a bit pale and lightheaded. It hurt a bit. That wasn't supposed to happen. It's very unusual, because everything is where it should be (he told me that some guys have 3 vas deferens, or 1, or there are two but not where they're supposed to be: it's enough of an issue that they send the cut pieces of the vas deferens to a lab to make sure they ARE the vas deferens). So the free-roaming nurse put a cool wet cloth on my forehead, which helped immensely. There were a couple of times past that when I felt some slight twinges of pain, but he put enough anasthesia in the rest of the time where I didn't really feel much more. Nothing coming close to that first bit of pain that ended up feeling like I'd been kicked in the groin (rather gently) because the pain inched up my pelvis.

Other than that, everything went fine. We continued joking and having a good time (relative term). I was still a little light-headed and woozy at the end when I sat up
to get dressed, so I took my time, washed my hands with cool water and sat down for a bit until I was sure everything would be fine.

They gave me some percocet for the pain, and some antibiotics to fight a possible infection. I used up the last of the pain meds yesterday, so today I'm getting a bit more of an idea of just what kind of discomfort my body is dealing with. I feel a bit sore, and there's some bruising, all of which is normal. So I'm keeping the frozen peas in place and I've shifted to ibuprofen for the bits of pain which is now where my thigh meets my pelvis.

It's kind of tough in that I have to keep moving around to keep up with the kids and the responsibilities I cannot defer. It's also more difficult to get motivated to take care of things beyond necessity.

So what if we change our minds and want more kids? you may ask... there's always adoption. It's what we were planning many years ago, so it's not that far beyond the realm of possibility. Besides, there are tons of children out there that could use a family like ours. We've replaced ourselves in the gene pool, we have a boy and a girl, and we've met our quota of 2-3 kids; so there's nothing more we really need from reproduction.

On to more enjoyable sex in the future!

Time for the snip-snip

Okay, out with it: this Friday I will be getting a vasectomy. Michel and I were talking about it when we made Balen, since we keep "accidentally" producing kids. 2 is enough for us with our current configuration, and since Balen came out alright (so far), we're done with reproduction. So on Friday at 2:15pm EST, I will be removing my genes from any future human gene re-enactments. We know it's permanent. We also think it's much easier than a tubal ligation, since that's a bit more invasive. Also, this is covered with our insurance.

So why a vasectomy? Well, the pill can basically be another form of abortion, if you really look into it. The pill is supposed to prevent fertilization of an egg but also prevents the egg from implanting if it does fertilize (which is the point at which we believe it becomes life and if we're wrong, why take the chance?) it usually just prevents the embryo from attaching and getting the food it needs, so we've been using condoms for years. It's a problematic method with us for 3 reasons: 1. it's expensive 2. it changes the nature of sex no matter what the ads say 3. we don't always use them because of 1 and 2 (a lack of discipline, we know, but there it is). So this way, my ammo will be reabsorbed by my body and not fired out the barrel (to use a more elegant form of the "shooting blanks" metaphor). Which, apparently, is what happens to the unused stock as it is.

More details, you ask? Why sure... They'll snip and cauterize both of my vas deferens, which are the tubes that carry the sperm from the sperm refinery (sounds better than factory, don't you think?) to the shipping and receiving department. Therefore it won't have a chance to get to... well... anywhere at all. Since I'll have sperm already enroute, I'll have to... undergo... 25-30 ejaculations to completely remove the product from the supply chain. This is a good thing. I plan on completing that step of the process in a matter of days. I'm sure Michel is completely on board with this... really... absotively posilutely... Once I have a sufficient number of notches on my belt, I'll go back to the doc and get a sperm count to confirm that there aren't any black-market smuggling operations in place of a legitimate logistics trail.

The best part, is I go there, drive home after no more than an hour, and sit on my butt for the weekend with some comfortable under-drawers (they actually recommend a cup) and a couple bags of frozen peas as a sudden set of best friends. We've replaced ourselves in the world population without increasing the drain on the planet; we've done so with a pair of kids that can qualify in the "brain-busting eye-candy" category; and we've done so early enough that we think we might actually have a marriage in the not-so-distant future in which we can enjoy a house without the CLUMP-THUMP of little feet. Don't get me wrong, we enjoy these two more than anything on the planet, but we've also not had that part of a normal get-married-wait-a-few-years-then-have-kids kind of marriage. Well, we haven't really had much of a normal marriage no matter how you look at, with separation and making it past the average life of a marriage before divorce (last I heard it was something like 7 years). We're in our tenth as of Feb 18th.

So that's the biggest issue with us. Next is a possibility of getting out of here before the fall semester if Michel can work out a deal with the school to do all her research credits before the end of the summer. That would be VERY nice. We're quite tired of this place (more because of the house than anything). So enough of this private-parts discussion, and enough overusage of metaphors...

On Balen

This little bugger is a majority of my day's work. While I put so much mental effort into Abigail's development, this guy consumes almost all of my physical time. I spend most of my day just keeping him out of the things he shouldn't be in to, off of the things he shouldn't be on, out from under the things he shouldn't be under, out from behind the things he shouldn't be behind, and not touching the things he shouldn't touch.

I've dealt with pen on the couch (still there), pen on the wall (still there, eventually gone); window cleaner on the couch, DVD case, coffee table, electrical outlets, software CDs; all manner of toys behind the entertainment center devices, discarded socks from anywhere you can think of; toy cars from under the oven over and over again, and then again; the list continues.

Since December, his word list has grown significantly. He's still not quite at multiple word phrases, and now that he's showing off his ability to choose to do something other than what we say, he seems to almost resist learning more. More still pop out, but he appears to be content with the words he knows now and the methods of communication already established. The signs are slowly disappearing in favor of words, and I think he is starting to feel the limitations on his vocabulary as he is often frustrated in his attempts to communicate.

His play largely consists of wandering around the house exploring and investigating. He loves going outside and now that the weather has finally turned a little warmer we can indulge him more often. We actually had a day of over 60 degrees, but most days it's still 40-50; still cold. He loves him some bubbles. He loves to explore. He loves to walk. He loves to run. He's now jumping, too, and likes a good bed bounce.

However, we are considering quarantine as he is a walking an infection. He infects everyone in the room with him. The primary symptom is a twitching at the corner of the mouth that can increase in intensity until the victim appears to be smiling. In extreme cases, the victim makes sudden and spasmic noises approximating a normal laugh. In female victims he is often able to elicit spontaneous simultaneous spasms of the diaphragm and vocal cords almost always resulting in some form the word "cute". His effect is instantaneous and universal. The carrier method seems to be somewhat spiritual. That's the long way of saying that the boy has an incredibly infectious ability to bring smiles, laughter, and open remarks on his handsomeness. I was serious though about the universal part. His beaming smile and wonderful attitude have an immediate effect on those who observe him.



We are working pretty well along the path to potty training. He will occasionally pee on his toilet. When he does, we all jump up and down and scream and yell and he gives us "high tens", or occasional "fists" (each person makes knuckle to knuckle contact with a punching motion). We also reward him with Cars diapers - "KEEN!" as he says for the character "Lightning McQueen" - or Buzz and Woody diapers from Toy Story when it's bedtime. He has recently taken to wanting to pee on the big toilets. We have him squat on the seat and do his business while we hold him up. As of tonight, I believe he's getting the idea that he can feel the need to pee coming, and get on the seat ahead of time. I'll get a video of this family toilet experience, as his enthusiasm and excitement and emotional reward are palpable.

The rub is that he has well and truly discovered his ability to control his own actions. He will say "no" even to things he wants, or has just asked for. He will say no to every option presented to him. When able we just honor his wishes and let him deal with the results as they are; some not necessarily to his liking. He is just testing the waters and finding what the limits of his control are. Sometimes that just isn't necessary. Spanking has come in to play because he no longer responds to time-outs when he completely digs in his heels. It's unfortunate after he was so amiable up until now, but it's also working hand in hand with his maturity and taking his first steps to independence from us. It's amazing the timing if they aren't related, but my observations show they are. Here's what I mean: these last two weeks have seen the complete turn around from amiable little boy to defiant little boy. At the same time, he now runs towards the play room at church - a place in which he, up until this Sunday, would cry as soon as that door appeared in his view - and grabs some toys and says goodbye to us with a smile, even if it is a little tenuous. Growth.

Now a few words on his intelligence. As of his last check up just after his birthday, his height and weight are around 70%, and his head circumference is still off the charts. You know what they say about a big noggin! No... not that. Get your head out of the gutter! This kid is freaking intelligent! That's what I meant, naturally. This boy understands the world around him and how he interacts with things with an acuity I've never seen. I don't know what Abigail was like at this age, since I wasn't around her so I cannot draw comparison here or otherwise. That being said, this boy masters physical concepts with only a few attempts: zippers, removing clothes (he can do that already), throwing things, eating, drinking, bubbles, going pee, getting out the makings for his diaper changes, climbing into his booster seat on a tall chair, buckling himself in... the list goes on. His physical understanding is just flat out beyond my expectations. You just have to see it to believe it.

Please do.

On Abigail

This little girl has the strength and intelligence beyond those of most of the people I see around me. If we can just orient them. Teach her to harness them. For her, it would be like having access to the "Force". She has so much energy and potential to harness. Right now her life is completely focused on play. Play is her end-all be-all. Play is her zen, her nirvana. She seeks it every moment. Eternal play is her unattainable perfection of the human state. When she's not playing she's dreaming of play. When she's not dreaming of play, she's dreaming of when she can dream of play. That's her day, and mine, really. My job, unfortunately, is to keep her grounded when necessary, but let her take flight when possible. It's not that she can't focus, she can! When she wants to focus on something, she does. Let her play her DS, and she's gone for hours. So she's able to. It's just the motivation.

She's only 8, we know. But she does not have the same self-control as her peers. Her teachers have mentioned it, at the same time saying we need to test her for being gifted. The adults at her weekly church group mentioned that as well. We don't want to push her beyond her social level, but we also have to challenge her intellectually, and help her build her character.

However, she has made fairly significant improvement. Early on in the school year, she was often still doing her schoolwork until her bedtime at 8pm. Now we can count on her being done before dinner and often on time (3pm). Her showers took up to an hour. Now they're down to 20 minutes. She's regularly ready on time, and even early. Our focus is now gradually shifting toward her ability to obey and follow directions. Even though, she still cannot get through any one event without including some play. We don't mind that so much when she keeps to the rather reasonable limits we've set for her. For instance, she gets up at 7am and has 1.5 hrs to make her bed, shower, eat breakfast. She usually makes that now.

We'll just continue to take our time. We'll use all the methods available to us as parents: reward, punishment, discipline, motivation, education, thinking exercises... She's always been too intelligent and insightful to just push our way through. She questions everything, and wants to understand. We are putting forth an effort to keep our parenting transparent. We tell her what we're trying, and why, so that she can work with us on it. We often seek her suggestions as well. We make it clear that we cannot control her or force her to take any action. We can only implement consequences, positive or negative. She is always under her own control and is responsible for her every action. It's a telling statement about my own childhood that this was a concept I only recognized after she was born. It was such a simple yet profound realization that I had to share it with her and constantly remind her of it.

It's an interesting give and take that I never experienced as a child. So maybe I become a little too enthusiastic about passing on what I think about a situation. Heh... Michel often tells me that I explain way too much. I just think Abigail's mind is so powerful that she needs that depth of understanding to lock it in. Still, I do tend to go on... I've limited that somewhat. So we've long been taking the tack of showing her just what we are trying to do with her. We're making it more of a walking alongside her, instead of the driving parents from behind. We're teaching her up front just exactly what it is we're trying to accomplish as parents; to understand what it is to progress as a human with the tools we're given. God has given her so much, and it's up to her to do with herself what she will. This is where her strength comes in. She fails often. She picks herself back up. She succeeds, fails again, gets back up. Amazing. Just. Amazing.

Our true test is to walk the line of pushing her hard enough, but not too hard. Of being strict, but loving. Driving, and accepting. Sometimes we swing one way or another. I think one strength of ours as parents is that we strive to tell her when we screwed up and apologize. Bring her more into the idea of her own progress.

But this constant fight is just that: a fight. Constantly. Boy, what a handful, eh? It's a good thing we didn't make two. We'd need a whole other set of parents!

I also occasionally work out a Father-Daughter date - a term she gets rather embarrassed about. She doesn't want to think of them that way or call them that. But it adds a little layer of intimacy we both need. Our last one was a trip to the nature center for a bit of winter woodland exploring (see the picture in the album link below where she is wearing multiple layers to demonstrate how animals are prepared for cold weather). She used her camera (my old one) as the designated class photographer. She snapped just about everything. She was also intensely observant and vocal. So many of the children and parents just stood there doing and saying virtually nothing. Abigail's interest and enthusiasm quickly spread to the other children. It's also amazing how few of the children (and parents) were even properly dressed for walking around the woods with snow and ice everywhere. They had flat bottomed shoes on, or tennis shoes. Abigail and I were the only ones with snow boots! I was helping children and parents to negotiate what is normally a walking path, but was more of a skating rink. Weird.

She is developing into a beautiful young woman. Today I saw Abigail sitting on the couch in Michel's arms. You've seen their similarities. It's only stronger now. If Michel is any indication of Abigail's future beauty, she's got a lot to look forward to. I had to take a picture (sorry for the grainy factor, my new camera sucks in anything less than perfect lighting):


We are rather isolated here, though. Not much in the way of human contact other than ourselves. At least she has a friend next door: a 10 year old girl named Fiona. Abigail started going to a church function for girls on Wednesday nights and invited Fiona after a couple times. They have rewards at the end of the year (given out this past week) for things like devotions and verse memorization. Abigail did virtually none of it, and the week before was quite upset that she had no points but blamed it on the few nights where they didn't track points. However, Fiona got nearly all of her verses and devotions having started much later than Abigail and therefore presented Abigail a poignant lesson supporting what we've been trying to teach her all these months: that work nets reward, not inaction.

While this may come across as a negative statement, I hope it does not. I hope that this post comes forward more as a declaration of my daughter's astounding qualities and efforts. A declaration that we are so proud of our daughter. She has surprised us in so many ways. Many of our seeds of wisdom (what little we have) have taken root in her life. She now completely understands the value of honesty. I, of course, do not expect her to always tell me the truth, but I know with all clarity that she has the foundation of a pure character. I know that if she has no other guidance from us that she would push forward with perfect understanding of the necessity of a righteous life. Honesty, service to others, pushing towards a better self, self-analysis and betterment, and intellectual evaluation of information coming your way without blind acceptance, and loving our Lord God and Savior.

The fulfillment of this job of stay-at-home Dad is truly fantastic in it's challenging difficulty, complexity, constancy of work, and deep rewards. The most telling anecdote of the truth of this statement is this: so many people have asked me if I missed the flying - I always take a moment to make sure it's still true, the answer is always "No, not in the slightest. I am home with my children."

Finally... only took 3 months

This is the first post this year. I can't believe it has been 3 months already. Hard routine has a way of erasing the passage of time from the mind's eye. That word pretty much defines our lives right now - "routine". Extra tasks have a way of sliding from day to day.

Here's the album of pictures and a couple videos. Over the next couple days, I'll be adding posts about each of us individually.