I know mommy and you sir, are no mommy.
Nathan has slowly but surely started showing a distinct preference for 
helloheather these past couple weeks. It started off simply as times when he was tired or hungry (or, in most cases, both). But the attitude has spread to other areas of his life. When I was trying to feed him sweet potatoes and apple sauce the other night, he kept looking across the table to helloheather, with imploring and pleading eyes all the while moaning. One morning, when getting ready for work, he was sitting and staring (and yes, smiling) at me from the floor. But as soon as helloheather came back into the room, he scrambled over to her legs, grab on, and try to pull himself up.
Logically I know this was bound to happen. I see him only a few hours a day, while helloheather is with him nearly every waking moment. And he does greet me with gusto when I arrive home from work, which is always a joy. Sometimes he really works himself up into a frenzy of happiness, rolling around or grabbing onto whatever he can and squeezing. His emotional responses are very strong.
There are times that I feel that fatherhood has turned me into a sack of crazy. Other times, though, I think perhaps it's simply thrown the crazy into sharp relief. The worry, the stress, the over-protectiveness is entirely a product of my own mind. I wish I could figure out a way to turn down whatever it is in my subconscious that feels I need this. Because I really don't think I do. However, it comes as naturally to my day as drinking water. "Hey, it's been an hour or so since you've had a worry...why not stress about how Nathan doesn't use you as a jungle-gym?"
I know that, while my brain is wrapped up in this nonsense, I'm not remembering the really important stuff. Like how he looks when he figures something out, or how he used to be when he was just a few months old. How he used to look without teeth (what a strange concept that seems now) or how he used to lay so calm next to me when I read him books. I have all these precious memories being covered with mold and slowly rotting away thanks to the climate of my subconscious.
Disconnected
As I've indicated previously, I'm unable to spend much time online anymore and so have been ineffective in keeping up with reading the blogs or emails of friends and family. Prior to this, I felt like I was doing a poor job of staying connected with people. However, this change has shown me how much further things could (and have) slipped. I feel very isolated and frustrated by the forces preventing me from staying more connected.
I have a copy of AbiWord Portable installed on a USB key now, with the hope that this will allow me the ability to write while at work without needing to be online. None of what I write will be stored outside the key itself, which makes me feel more comfortable. However, there's still the issue of getting it onto the blog complete with working links and (when applicable) photos.
It occurs to me that without much connection to the "virtual" world, I feel what I do have to say has little value anyway. Certainly my blog has not been the bastion of culture and enlightenment, (how many entries are not about either Nathan or photography?), but it has been important to me to keep communications between friends open. We don't get to visit with people as often as we'd like and so blogging seems to be the next best thing.
Perhaps one aspect of my frustration is that I've bitten off more than I can chew. I have this blog, the photoblog, a flickr community, and a dozen domains in various states of disrepair. So many unfinished projects and ideas dragging around my virtual sandbox weighs heavily on me.
I guess I just want to say: I'm sorry for not keeping up with what's been going on. It's not that I don't care. If I had the opportunity I would read and respond to every post and email. But sadly, for now, that won't be an option. I'll read what I can, when I can and I hope to post a little more frequently too.
Love
http://cetan.org/index.php?showimage=168
You are the one I've been waiting for today
Here comes the sun
It's been baiting morn todayYou looked right through me there’s no one else
I sat beside you and became myself today.
Today.You are the one I’ve been waiting for today.
Here comes the sun
It’s been beating on today-Joshua Radin : "Today"
Dear Nathan,
As you've reached five months old, you've started to behave less and less like a newborn and more like a little person. It's difficult for me to admit, but this scares me to no end. Nathan, I have no idea what I am doing. No clue. I don't know how to teach you or how to raise you to be a good person.
And I'm really really worried that I'm going to screw it all up. I'm worried that you'll take with you all my problems and hang-ups; that you won't be able to free yourself from my mistakes. Because, Nathan, you look at me with such innocent and trust-filled eyes and the last thing I want is to ruin that.
You have your whole life stretching out in front of you. All I want for you are the best tools you can carry. But I sit next to you with an empty toolbox and no way to fill it. I'm sorry. I love you.
-Dad.
Forward-looking
While Nathan really enjoys being held on our shoulders, facing backwards, this only works when the one holding is walking around. And while I would like to think I'm slowly getting stronger as he gains weight, I still can't walk around with him forever.
Nathan has introduced his own solution to the problem: he discovered that sitting in someone's arms looking forward is just as enjoyable as looking back over their shoulder. And so, sitting with him on our laps, facing out, is both interesting to him and a relief on our arms and backs.
This wouldn't be possible, however, without him being able to hold his head up. And while he's certainly still wobbly on top, every day he gets a little better. To that end, I feel more and more "safe" holding him. It's less like cradling a newborn and more like just holding a baby.
It's a wonderful feeling, to see him holding his head up and looking around. I think I will start calling him Zem. I think that's what Zem looked like when he lifted himself out of the swamp to see where Marvin dedicated that bridge...
A mattress had just met a robot.
Nathan turned 2 months old yesterday. As a reward he was taken from the safety and security of his home and had three needles jammed into his thighs.
Vaccinations are very important. And, of course, I want my child to be safe from the many diseases that had been eradicated before the recent hysteria brought on by pseudo-science allowed things like measles and mumps to gain a foot-hold...again.
In essence, these vaccinations are as much protections against stupidity as they are diseases.
But even with all this in mind, it's still not easy to knowingly have your child hurt, even if it is over within a matter of 30 seconds.
Nathan was much more fussy last night than in recent times. He protested loudly whenever I would try and hold him, and infant Tylenol seemed to last for only two of the four hours one must wait before administering more.
I'm rather surprised at my level of emotions regarding this. I feel...changed somehow. And that Nathan has changed too. A threshold greater than a measurement of time has been crossed and it is causing bizarre emotions. I'm sure that, when distilled down, it's simply a matter of love. Each day I love my son more and more. The smiles and happy baby noises I receive in return are such an amazing reward.
Six weeks
Last night, when I arrived home from work, Nathan smiled at me.
He smiled and smiled and looked very intently. He responded to my voice with sounds of his own and he continued to smile.
I've been waiting for these moments since he was born. Waiting for him to provide feedback that he has learned who I am, or at least, what I (hopefully) represent: happiness. contentment. security.
The change has happened more quickly than I expected. Over the past week I've seen more directed responses to faces, to toys, to contrast (like the mobile of bird species above his changing table).
I wished so hard for this stage in his development and now that it's here, I want him to pause. Not forever, just for a little while. The changes in these six weeks have been amazing, but I'm worried now he'll change too quickly for me to keep up.
I’m someones father…?
Nathan has been home from the hospital for a week now, which is a good a time as any to reflect on what's been going on with our lives.
I'm overwhelmed at underwhelmed at the same time to try and explain what's been happening. Broadly, he's a baby: he eats, he poops, he sleeps.
But then there are small events like, him sleeping in my arms last night for a good 2 hours during part of the All Star game. Or watching helloheather getting more confident with nursing him. Or the fussiness he exhibits and how we found the swing we're borrowing from twench and whippetgirl to be a very helpful tool to calm him down. Or how he's now twice peed in my hands while I was changing him, and once in his own face (poor guy).
Parenthood, as I was warned, is a lot of work. I wasn't really prepared for how much work it is, but I think we're learning more and doing a little better each day. Heck, as helloheather pointed out, the three of us even made a non-required trip out to grab some food at Culvers yesterday.
Over-used though it may be, "one day at a time" is the key for us so far. Learn a little more, work a little harder, try and shower before 3pm...It's all relative I guess.
helloheather and I tried to take photos for a birth announcement today. So far, results have been dismal by most anyones standards. I think it might be a case of trying too hard. The other problem, of course, is that we don't have any good north-facing windows that would allow us to get the kind of light we're both looking for. But, thankfully with digital, the cost-per-shot is nearly zero.
Sort of a rambling post, but that's how my brain feels today. Hope everyone else is doing well. helloheather and I are trying to keep up, somewhat, with emails and friends-lists. So we've probably read what you've written but not had much of a chance to fully digest it.
Speaking of which, I need some lunch.
little one
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
Sia, "Breathe Me" - 2004
mental obstructions
Between the weather and the madness that has become work, I've have only one lunch-hour walk in two weeks. This week, in fact, I didn't even bring in walking shoes.
And lack of walks means lack of photography. As our evenings have been booked pretty solid, I've had no chances to see if the foxes are still using their den. Last night I cleaned the back gutters on the house, and I realized later that I might have had some interesting macro photographs while up there. Maybe tonight I'll try for the front gutters...
When I don't get to use a camera often, I feel like something is amiss. I feel "off" or like I'm forgetting something. But the problem is that when I start up again, very often my mind goes completely blank and I struggle and struggle to find subjects. Sometimes I can force my way through the "fog" by just snapping pictures at random - ignoring subject matter completely and just framing shots to get a rhythm going again.
The lack of walks has also left me feeling sluggish and tired. My bad food habits catch up too quickly when I'm not exercising.
As helloheather has pointed out, we've both been stressing about baby-stuff. But we've made a decision on a stroller and baby carrier for the car, now it's just a matter of buying it. We've also decided to forgo the changing table in favor of an existing dresser and one of those curved changing pads. I think it'll be a fine solution.
Baby classes have been a little fast-paced. A lot of information is being covered in only four classes. I learn far better by repetition: reading or doing. In general, if I'm nervous or fearing the unknown (something I've experienced a lot during this pregnancy) I'm even less effective in learning new things. Combined with the rapid pace of the class, I feel like important information is simply slipping between my fingers. It's frustrating and, of course, making me feel more anxious which in turn impedes even more information retention.
Bah, what a mashed up entry.
evil lair or place of employment?
In the movies, when the hero is trapped in a room, most of the time the villain will start pumping in the toxic gas. There must be some sort standard "toxic gas pumping into room" system because pretty much each time this is done, the sound is the same. The hissing sound that builds in intensity as more and more gas obscures our hero from view.
Whatever contractor or group of contractors does this villainous work also installed the HVAC system at my company. Every single time the air or heat turns on, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I should have a gas mask in the cube and, if I did have one, how quickly I could get it on before dropping dead of asphyxiation.
winding loops
On Thursday I heard, but did not see, my first robin of the year. Today, while removing painters tape from the guest bedroom walls, I saw my first robin, hopping around, looking for a good meal. The temps have been so nice today and we've had the windows open getting in as much fresh air as we can 
Friday I walked through the Fulton Market district of Chicago. It's an area I've been to before, but never this far west (I made it to Ogden). It's a really neat part of the city and the photographic opportunities were just throwing themselves at me. I had a great time.
Today I sat down to watch part of the latest issue of my DVD magazine from Luminous Landscape. Of particular interest was the segment on street shooting (in this case, in China). Michael Reichmann discusses a bit about what it takes to overcome the intimidation some people feel in photographing people in public. This is something I've mentioned here before and I've not made any headway in remedying the problem. Reichmann's comments have prompted me to think more critically about what my hangups are with this type of street photography. One of his suggestions is to do what I've been doing for some weeks now: shoot in the streets but photograph inanimate objects.
I have tended towards details and textures and elements of form and repetition of form in my photography from these walks. I think, in terms of (for a lack of better words) urban landscapes, I'm slowly refining my eye through this daily, or near daily, practice. Of course, what I don't want to do is to get completely locked into these objects at the expense of other types of photography. I can see this as becoming a way to avoid photographing people instead of challenging myself to do so.
So far it's not been really nice enough to haul out the Holga with the Polaroid back. The temps are still a little cool for developing (and the winds a little strong for trying to hold onto a print before peeling it). I had hoped to take it out today, but the moments of sun were so fleeting, that it just wasn't possible.
We're off to our last play of the season at Chicago's Shakespeare Theater in a little bit. In addition to being the end of the seasion, this will mark the end of our involvement with the theater as well. We have been season ticket holders since it opened and have really enjoyed going to these plays. However, with parenthood looming and prices rising, we felt like perhaps it was time to re-prioritize. If you do get a chance to go to a play there (I don't think tickets for individual plays are difficult to get) I would recommend it.
On the subject of molasses
Whenever I dream, or rather, what dreams I remember, always involve me not being able to get something done quickly enough, get to some place or event in time. However, there are rarely, if ever, any consequences from not meeting this goal.
In almost every case, I am being restricted by an unknown force.
Last night I had a brief dream where I needed to transcribe text from an image into a spreadsheet. I needed to do this fairly quickly but I couldn't complete the task. Because of the image size and monitor size, I had to flip back and forth between the image and the spreadsheet. The process was slow, and, for some reason, I couldn't enter in more than one word at a time before needing to flip back and get the next word in the sentence. As I mentioned, in my dream, I was never able to finish the task. (I either woke up or the dream ended/changed.)
A month or so ago the dream involved me needing to get to the end of a street (on foot) to warn people of something. But I couldn't run or walk, the only thing I could do was crawl, and very slowly, along a wide concrete sidewalk next to the road. I watched as cars and people on foot sped by (including one new Mustang that went by at about 200 mph that, when it hit the barrier/wall at the end of the road, it burst into flames). While I was very frustrated by not being able to move fast enough, and embarrassed by being seen by faster-moving people (I mean, here I was crawling on a very public sidewalk), I wasn't really upset at seeing the car burst into flames. I also never reached wherever it was that I was supposed to be going. I just crawled and crawled and then the dream either ended or changed.
I don't know what this all means. Do I have other dreams with less stressful situations that I just don't remember? Maybe these are the only dreams I have? What a horrible thought.
I'm pretty convinced that my subconscious doesn't particularly like me. And who am I to argue with my subconscious?
How to ruin the weekend
Step one: wear contacts
Step two: wear contacts all the time, leaving your need for backup glasses low
Step three: wash your right contact down the drain
Step four: curse. a lot.
Step five: Call the eye doctor and find out that because your eyes are so bad, your contacts have to be MADE BY HAND and will take one to three weeks to get in.
Step six: not be able to drive or see really much of anything with said backup glasses that are probably ten years old thus requiring you to get new glasses.
Step seven: mix all of this together so you can't leave on time to get up into Wisconsin for skiing and a wedding and everything else that's happening this weekend.
After this weekend I'm going to start looking into LASIK surgery.
The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
-Edgar "King Lear" (Act V, scene iii)