When I learned that my lovely wife and I were pregnant, honestly, it totally consumed me. I couldn’t think of anything else. The time was finally here. And, try as I may to continue at my same ol’ feverish, caffeine-fueled pace, I coudln’t do it anymore. In fact, shortly after I finished the White Rock Marathon in December, the famlly plan began coming together. By the first week of January, we had a little one on the way. Things slowed down.
Imagine that I’ve been blessed with 33 incredible years of childless life. Now, it’s time to bring all of that to a screeching halt. What was, at first, a freakish anxiety that sometimes haunted me is my new reality. I’m gonna be a dad. And it’s an awesome feeling. And, in knowing some folks who can’t have children, I do consider it a blessing. And, in knowing some folks who can’t but won’t, well, I’m past the point of understanding that anymore. Used to make sense. Guess, I’m finally realizing that there’s more to this world than just walking along its horizontal plane, plucking food from its surface, climbing its hills, drinking its water and getting my photo taken with its many great exhibits. I’m now going perpetuate life. I’m going to start a legacy that can remain long past my years. And not just words on some virtual piece of paper. I’m talking life, spirit. Something tangible. Something with a name. Something that runs, jumps, laughs, loves, speaks, cries and possibly pushes me to the very brink of sanity.
This is the new chapter, sucka.
For the last, uh, five years or so, I’ve been the sole writer of a little blog called The Root Down. I started it because I hated to read other people’s work and felt I could do it better. Well, not sure if I did it better but I’m certain I did it longer than a lot of them. Guess if you can’t beat them, outlast them. I wrote about whatever I wanted to. Sometimes I mused on and on endlessly and, somewhere I increased my readership from my brother and brother-in-law to serious following of about seven people. Not too shabby. I didn’t write for the fame and certainly not for the fortune. I did it to do it. Rare that I’ve ever done something just for the principle of doing it…for five years. It’s been the diary I never had growing up. I pissed off some people here and there. Others were entertained. I thought it was odd that people even read it. I remember the first day that someone at work said, “Hey, I read what you put on your blog…” and I thought, “Someone reads that mess?” It was a nice avenue for me to exert my creative energy. Many times it also fed a necessary urge to express what otherwise was seldom realized in daily life. Yeah, I was feeble in person, but on The Root Down, I was a badass. Yeah, the internet is great that way until you get challenged in real life for what you put online. Learned from a few mistakes that way. All in all, though, I wrote what I wanted. And I stood by it. I never deleted any posts. Never took anything back. What I said, I meant. Some of it, I don’t mean anymore, but it’s still out there for you to enjoy regardless.
I’ve found it not just difficult, but damn near impossible to spend any time writing on The Root Down for the last two months as I transition into the hellfire and terror that awaits me as a father. In the way that The Root Down has always been an honest expression of self, the lack of new material is, in that way, an honest expression of where I’m at.
And, all in all, The Root Down stopped seeming relevant and accurate to me anymore when I learned of the Gummy Bear swimming around in my lovely wife’s belly. Sitting down and typing 500 words to convince you why EPMD is so freaking ill literally screams aloud “don’t you have something better to be doing?” And you’d be right. I do. And I will.
There’s projects around the house that need to be done. We gotta nail down some sort of daycare. Gotta lock in the insurance on the new kid. Tons of decisions. Some of which feel huge but aren’t. And others that feel fairly insignificant and mean everything. And then there’s the constant barrage of advice and helpful tips that you’ll never remember. My head’s about to explode. When your head is constant receiving mode, shifting to output mode is a transition rarely made.
So that brings us to today. The present. The now.
In just two hours, I’ll be finding out whether we’re having a boy or girl. Once that happens, we’ll give this place a name and it is here that all new material will exist. The Root Down will remain active as a name, an archive for my previous life and a logo on shirts, bags, hats, bibs and mugs. But, beyond that, it’ll be retired. Put up on the shelf like an old toy, gun or game system.
Here is where this baby will grow into a young child. From sea monkey or weird little Gummy Bear in my lovely wife’s belly to walking, breathing and loving human. And it is here that I’ll document the entire experience…my fears, praises, observations, frustrations, celebrations. It’ll all go here. I feel that, for myself, it acts as a helpful time stamp in process to write things down. This is how I learn anymore. It’ll be here for you to read at your leisure, but make no mistake, I don’t write for you. I write for me, my family and this little one. I don’t get paid for this. I’m not getting syndicated anywhere. I do this as a labor of love so don’t get upset if I don’t post for a couple of days. I don’t care if you like or dislike what you read. If I want your advice, trust me, I’ll ask for it. I’m good at doing that although my lovely wife would quietly disagree.
Stakes is high, people.