the sleep routine - Part II

Dear Chicken Nugget,

With big work deadlines looming a week from now, a half-marathon in ten days, family worries, and general busyness keeping me from writing you these notes, I feel like it's been forever. 

There's way too much going on and it has affected my sleep and running, but there's always moments in life like this when everything seems to happen at the same time.  Luckily, deadlines pass, races are run, and relaxing times are just around the corner. 

In the meantime, I've been coming home and spending lots of awake time with you.  I haven't been getting to work until you fall asleep - sometimes 9:30pm.  Even now, it's midnight as I write this.  I've been working this entire time. 

Through all the work, lack of sleep, and stress, you've been giving me a beautiful gift for the last three nights.  In recent weeks you've fallen asleep with your mom.  But, for the last three nights, you've been falling asleep in my arms.  A couple of nights ago you had fussed a little, letting us know you were starting to get tired.  I put on some karaoke-versions of Michael Buble songs and sang to you while holding you and dancing with you. 

As I sang, you put your head on my chest and relaxed.  If I stopped singing, you lifted your head up and stared up at me until I started again.  Less than three songs into it, you were out.  It was adorable.

Last night it happened again, this time you were out in about a song and a half.  Tonight it took about four songs but it ended with you snoring on my chest.

 
So, yes, I have lots of work to do.  Yes, I could use more sleep.  And yes, I should resign from my position on any number of extracurricular activities.  But, through all that overloaded, overworked, overtired crazyness, I come home to you and your mom and get to sing you to sleep.  Totally worth it.



Eternally yours,

Tu Papa

I sing, you laugh

Dear Chicken Nugget,

I like to sing out loud.  Your poor grandma had to listen to endless hours of me singing along with Menudo, Michael Jackson, Dr. Dre, Third Eye Blind, or whoever my favorite artist was at the moment of my indoor concert.

There's audio tapes of my singing as a kid somewhere that my mom had me record.  Still, no one ever taught me how to sing and no one in my family told me I had an awful voice.   

When we were 11 or 12 years old, my friend Rolando yelled at me for trying to imitate Michael Jackson's voice.  He told me it sounded terrible.  I never really took that to heart.  Your mom still has to deal with my high-pitched warbling.

In High School the music teacher asked me to try out for the Choir.  She had heard something relatively good during class and wanted me to try it out.  On the day I tried out, standing before some pretty good singers, I unleashed about a third of a decent scale before my voice broke into a series of cracks and shrieks.  The music teacher kindly told me it was just my voice changing and suggested I try out again in six months.  I never went back.

No one has really said much about my singing since.  I think folks are just being nice. Then, last week you started laughing at me.

Recently you've been going to bed without the need for any sleepy time routine.  However, with teeth seeming to push and cut their way through those little gums, you've been getting a little fussy at night.  So, this week we went back to the sleep routine.

As I picked you up and cradled you in my arms, with a slight bounce in my step, I broke into Frank Sinatra's "The Way You Look Tonight"...

Some day, when I'm awfully low...

Heh, Heh, Heh

When the world is cold...

Heh, Heh, Heh

I will feel a glow... Heh

Just thinking of you... Heh, Heh

Your mom heard your raspy laugh and started cracking up. 

For about a week now I've been laughed at when I sing.  It's cute.  For now.  Because you're little.

Hopefully I'm not doing any long term damage.


Eternally yours,

Tu papa

Some sing, some dance

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Your mom and I just got back from Bloomington, Illinois where we celebrated your great grandparents' 70th anniversary.  Yes, 70th anniversary!  Louis and Lorene Miller have been married for 70 years. 

The whole Miller clan showed up in Bloomington to celebrate the occasion, including your grandparents, Sue and Dale, your tia Sara and tio Jerry and your primo Timothy.  Overall there must have been over 30 people celebrating this weekend.

Something you'll learn as you get to know your families (mine and your mom's) is that they celebrate differently.  They do some things the same like eat.  Both families do a good job of gathering over meals and eating well.  You'll always be well-fed, Chicky.

But, the Millers are musical - they sing and play instruments.  The Escuderos (my family) dance.  So this weekend, the Millers pulled out song sheets and sang around a piano.  And, they sang beautifully.  They sang songs from the 1940s when your great grandparents got married and they sang songs of praise.

I pretended to join in during rehearsals, mouthing words and turning pages in the song book for your mom.  But really, I've been blessed with many great things, Nugget, and a good singing voice just isn't one of them.

The Miller Family Choir put on three performances at the Senior Homes where your great grandparents live.  They were wonderful!

I hope, dear Chicky, that you inherit a good singing voice so you can join them in song.  If marriage longevity is genetic, your mom and I are in it for the long haul and we'd sure love to hear some songs of celebration.

You are getting half of your genes from me though, so good luck with that voice.


Eternally yours,

Tu papa