The difference between being a soon-to-be father and actually being a father

Sawyer Vianney Gonzales, Day 3

Right up there...that's the main difference.  An almost formed cranium, blonde hair (from my side?), two eyes that stare at different points of the horizon at the same time, a mucus-filled nasal passage, and a pair of teeth-like gums. Sawyer's Mom swears she has my nose and mouth.  I think she has my wife's eyes.  I don't know who's rear-end she has.

Becky and I love Sawyer and we think she's beautiful.  And we're still riding high on waves of disbelief and joy and adrenaline, so we're likely to keep thinking she's beautiful for a while.

A few things have changed in my life since last Tuesday morning at 9:01 am:

• Naps aren't for fun anymore.   
• Swaddling a newborn isn't as easy as swaddling a doll.  (And, I'm fairly sure that Sawyer was doing in-utero push-ups)  
• There's a baby in the bassinet every time I wake up.  
• I wake up every time because there is a baby in the bassinet.  
• Instead of asking, "what are we going to do this morning, today, and tonight," we respond to Sawyer's sleeping, eating, pooping, and crying patterns. 
• My wife is now my hero.  Her body did things that didn't seem within the laws of nature.  Yet she did them.  

Some things are still the same in our house right now, but mostly everything is changing....and it's refreshing.  And it's also a 1 million pound monster filled with putrid, moldy, gory words like uncertainty and uncontrollable.  And I'm not very good with either.  

Someone told me last week that when he had his first child it gave him the best opportunity to escape his own narcissism.  And he called it liberating.  

So far I agree.  But mostly I'm in awe of how quickly everything changed.  And how it's not about me at all.  And how she's a gift to us both.  

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So, I thought we'd get a little dialogue going- those of you who are parents (and those of you who don't have children yet, ask your parents) what memories do you have from your first baby's first week of life?

More to come...  

Waiting and Vulnerable

My wife and I were watching TED talks yesterday, part of an ongoing new norm in our house of sitting for long periods of time, eating, napping, and sitting again - waiting for the birth of our daughter.  Neither of us are sitters and waiters, so we keep saying to each other: "This waiting for the baby thing is hard."  (Forget labor or child rearing, right?)

So we're watching Brene Brown (researcher and author out of University of Houston) give a TED talk about vulnerability, courage, authenticity, and shame.  And she says two things that ooze of truth from their packaged little sentence containers:  "Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage," and "Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change."  (Click here to see both of her TED talks: Brene Brown: Listening to Shame and Brene Brown: The Power of Vulnerability)

If vulnerability means things like exposing our true selves, admitting our imperfections, standing in the face of failure and risking it anyway, then I can't think of a time in our life when we've been challenged to be more vulnerable than now... especially my wife.

And it's hard to watch and be present and not really know how to empathize about her situation, because I can't really say, "me too."  I can say a lot of other far reaches of comfort-clauses, but many a man before me has advised to stay away from anything relating to the phrase: "I understand where you're coming from."  We, I, just don't.

My wife is risking everything she can control by going through something that takes most of her control away, yet likely empowers her beyond measure.  Who knows when labor is going to start, how labor will go, how her body will react, and how many eyes and ears our little one will end up having.

But she has so much courage.  And it must come from a place of vulnerability - of stepping forward without knowing...like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, when Indiana has to cross the deep chasm that appears to have no bridge.  And then he takes one step forward...

On second thought, the two are nothing alike.  He's not about to give birth to a baby.

P.S.  As my wife reads this before publishing, she would like me to point out that our ritualistic life pattern of sitting and waiting does also include walking.

Cleaning and Caring for your fake baby

                                  

First - Enter a hospital conference room with your beautiful wife and find a fake taking-care-of-baby station, fully equipped with a fake baby.  Immediately look around to compare your pre-fatherness with that of the pre-fathers (look for signs of weakness or over-confidence to bolster your own ego).  

Next - Notice how far along each expecting mother is, and quietly turn to your expecting wife and say, "You look so much better than they do, seriously."

Then - Take your fake baby carefully by their hard rubber back, supporting their tender hard rubber neck with your hands to prevent the head from dislodging itself from the neck stump.  Carefully wrap your fake baby with a towel and hold on tight so that your fake baby doesn't fall and bounce hard a couple times on the floor.

Next -  Dip the soft sponge-brush thing in warm water and very gently wash the fake-hair creases and crevices molded into the fake head of your fake baby.  Continue to wash the face and neck of your baby.  Take care not to drip water into the plastic eyes of your fake baby.  Water on fake eye balls resting in stretched eye slits may cause mold or irritation from the Nurse Practitioner who would then have to dip the fake baby in a vat of rubbing alcohol.  

Finally - Once thoroughly cleaned and dried, take a look around at all of the pre-parents and compare their fake babies with yours.  Which baby now glimmers the most under the gleaming white hospital lights?  Which parents are most proud of their new found cleaning skills?  Which parents look as if they are most likely to seek fake adoption?

From Foxes to Pirates - more transitions (and some Habits of Mind mixed in)

Last Thursday, the students of "The Den" (the habitat from which we combine voice, instruments and movement at Fox Ridge Middle School) had to think flexibly.  

I had introduced a new challenge to The Den - how to cope with change.  Specifically, change from a known to an unknown.  Specifically, and with great sadness, I was leaving Fox Ridge; and with bittersweet excitement, I was joining Louisville Middle School.

We had created a place where it was possible to take wild risks, like singing and dancing in front of your peers without being judged and laughed at. We had created a family where everyone had a place and everyone belonged.  We were well aware of each others' talents, strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures. 

And I told them the move was because of my future daughter, and wanting to spend more time at home rather than extra hours on the road, and they believed it - because it was true.  We always spoke honestly and respectfully to each other in the Den.  

The best part about our classroom was it seemed that most of the time, each of us bought into the fact that everyone belonged.  From that belief came some of the most creative interpretations, arrangements, compositions, and thinking that I have seen among middle schoolers - during performances and during rehearsals.    

We had created a family where we were allowed to make mistakes in order to grow, in order to realize our potential.  And none of us really wanted it to end because we were growing so much- as we took risks, as we failed, as we reflected, and as we took more risks.  

And I learned, and now I believe, that building a safe place to take risks enables students to take more conscious risks, and in turn learn more/grow more.  I believe we had a good thing going at Fox Ridge, and I believe we can do it again at Louisville.  

But, as  I wrote to the parents of my students last week, I'm really going to miss the children that inspired me to back off and take risks to become a better teacher.  They taught me, over time, that as I (a teacher) relinquish more control to the them (the students), they are able to fly that much higher.   

10 weeks left of life as I know it...5 weeks before school's out for the summer

My name is Brian Gonzales and I'm about to become a father.

I used to be a bachelor, a volunteer, and a traveler.  I used be a coach, a tutor, a teacher, and a friend you meet for a beer... all on the same day.  And then things started to change.  For one, I got married.

I used to spend an hour each night planning for classes at school.  Recently, I used to take two-hour naps on the couch with my wife on Sunday afternoons before watching a movie together, and later heading to bed.  But my life is constantly changing.

Three years ago in June, I met Becky for the first time.  A year and some later I asked her to marry me, and a year and some after that, we found out we were pregnant.  Three months before our pregnancy test came out positive, my father passed away; and two months before that, I got married on one of the hottest days in Colorado I can remember.  A lot has changed in just the last year.

I've decided to journal on-line as I change into a Dad.  I hope I'll change into a good Dad, or maybe I'll be an embarrassment to Dads everywhere.  I'll weigh in on public education, the reality of entitlement in our culture, spirituality, and maybe even fly-fishing (something I know little about, but dream of frequently).  But mostly, I'm going to write about what it's like to become a Dad.

A couple things you may need to know about me- I'm a choir director at a middle school in Colorado.  I'm a coach and mentor to colleagues, friends, and a few-soccer players.  I play piano and sing in a couple bands.  And most importantly, I'm joyfully married to my beautiful and brilliant wife Becky.  And I mean it, joyfully.  Happy is how I feel after eating at Larkburger or Patzcuaro's.  Joyful is how I feel the minute I get in the car and head home to be with my wife.

The only thing of which I'm really certain is that everything in life is a gift.  Otherwise, I'm less certain.

For example, I'm less certain how the next two months will go before our baby girl comes into the world.  She's due on July 10th.

I'll keep you posted...