surprise date night

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Tonight your mom and I had a surprise date night.  We're going through a heat wave this week so it's been hitting the 90s.  And, as if to add the cherry on top, we might be getting some hurricane weather by the end of the week.

In any case, it was hot tonight and your mom and I decided to turn on the second air conditioner to help cool down the apartment.  The only major problem with our current apartment is that almost every electrical outlet is on the same line.  So, our two air conditioners use the same circuit.  I guess we had too many appliances plugged in and drawing power because when I turned on the television it all went black.

The apartment heated up rather quickly and the landlord, the only one with access to the circuit breaker, was out.  So, your very pregnant mom and I decided to go out for a surprise date night.

We started at the Astoria Brewhouse where we sat at the bar and played Scrabble (note: your very pregnant mom did not partake in the Happy Hour special).  After an hour of enjoying a board game and air conditioning we headed out in search of a meal.  We ended up at Bareburger and shared a couple of burgers and a mixed salad (because you have to throw something healthy into the meal).

We had a nice, slow stroll home and were thrilled to find that the electricity was back on.  It ended up being a completely unplanned date night.

So, in the end, losing power for a few hours was a blessing.  I'm glad it happened.  We're glad you're happening soon.


Eternally yours,

Tu papa

on donating blood

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Today I went to the NY Blood Center to donate blood.  It's something I started doing about three years ago, two to four times a year, to help out our local blood banks.  In a city of about 8 million people, something like 60% are eligible to donate blood but only less than 5% actually do so.  That means that in a city of 8 million people full of illness, accidents, and surgeries, there's almost always a shortage of blood.

I tell you this because I feel it's our duty as healthy adults to do what we can to help others in need.  I hope that, when you get older and meet the eligibility requirements for donors, you help people by giving some blood.

I have seen family members who were sick and needed blood transfusions.  I saw them get blood and watched them feel better, if even for just a little bit.  When you give blood you may be helping a cancer patient who needs a blood transfusion to help them feel better.  You may be helping someone in a traumatic car accident who needs an emergency transfusion.  You may be helping babies that were born prematurely and need transfusions to help them gain strength.

Or, you may be helping someone like your great grandfather Bolivar, who at the age of 98 was very ill, fatigued, and confused.  The doctors told us that they were going to give him some blood to help a low red blood cell count.  The way my mom describes it, it's as if they gave him the blood of a young bull.  Within minutes he was up, trying to walk out of bed, telling jokes, and asking for food; he was hungry.

Although, the blood transfusion didn't "cure" my grandpa, it helped him feel better.  And, it gave my family a few more waking, lucid moments with grandpa.

God-willing you will grow up to be a healthy young adult and will be willing to endure a couple of pinches so that you can help others in need.  My hope is that there are others who will do the same.


Loving you, always,

Tu papa

Wearing my Grumpy Pants

Dear Chicken Nugget,

As I write this I'm waking up from a nap.  In the future your mom may caution you to stay away from me as I re-enter the waking world.  In fact, she's learned to ignore me until I speak first.  Apparently when I wake up from naps, I'm often wearing what your mom calls my "grumpy pants" - whatever that means.

After four-something years together your mom has learned to read me and will know by just a glance that I'm upset with the world.

Just so you know, I'm not really upset with the world or anyone in it.  I just happen to enjoy sleeping.  I enjoy the deep peace of a siesta and the bizarre action-packed dreams that frequently come with it. 

Waking up often feels like I'm being yanked from paradise.  One minute I'm in a profound slumber fighting zombies (and winning) on the beaches of Cancun, Mexico and the next I'm waking up on the couch, wickedly thirsty, and realizing that I forgot to go to the supermarket to buy stuff for dinner.  So, yes, sometimes I wake up in a wee bit of a bad mood.

Your mom claims that as I roll out of my naps I growl like bear.  I swear there are actual sweet words of love coming out of my mouth - maybe your mom has a hearing problem.

I have learned recently that getting to work on something immediately after a nap often helps soften the blow to the helpless bystander.  For example, writing this entry has helped get me out of my "grumpy pants."  I'm not sure if it's because it's given me time to focus on something other than the fact that I was painfully pulled away from a beautiful rest or if its because I'm thinking about you.

If it is you that is helping my post-hibernation depression then be prepared to be used as a human shield.  I'm pretty sure your mom will use you to disarm the drooling papa bear that rolls menacingly off the couch.

Hopefully it works.


Yours eternally,

Tu papa

39 weeks in the belly

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Today you've been in the belly for 39 weeks!

We're getting so close to meeting you and the excitement is almost unbearable.  The apartment is clean, your crib, co-sleeper, clothes, and diapers are all ready to go.  We're just waiting on you.  

You're probably about the size of a small watermelon and running out of space.  You're fully mature and just packing on some baby fat.

We can't wait to see what you look like.  Come out to play; the party is on the outside!


Eternally yours,

Tu papa

Be the best

Dear Chicken Nugget,

I haven't written about this yet, but I have a side project from my regular teaching career.  I am an Arbitration Advocate.  I help represent colleagues from the teachers' union and try to get them their jobs or benefits back.

I've been thinking a lot about this and it's one of those jobs where you have to be your best all the time.  Much like teaching.  And, a lot like parenting, I imagine.

In an arbitration hearing someone's career may be at stake.  In teaching, there's 25 kids wanting to learn.  And as a parent, there's you.  You're going to demand the best, I will do my best to be the best, or more.

If I should fall short on occasion, I'll have your mom by my side to whip me back into shape.  I fully expect parenting to be hard and I can't wait to take it on.

And, when the time comes, I hope to lead by example and help you be the best at whatever it is you want to be the best at.


Trying my best,

Tu papa

I am a Spartan!

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Today I completed The Spartan Race.  Your dad is a Spartan (at least according to some race organizers who made loads of money off wannabe weekend warriors).

Your mom came out to cheer and my friend, Bob, came out to race as well.  It was a fun race with 14 obstacles.  I climbed an 8-foot wall with no help (though it did take a couple of tries).  I ran up and down sand dunes.  I climbed a cargo net, hopped some 4-foot hurdles, and crawled through mud under barbed wire.  There was also some spear throwing, wall climbing sideways, and climbing a greased wall.  Oh, and there was the part where two huge guys dressed as Spartans tried to beat me with padded jousting sticks right before crossing the finish line.

I hope they keep this race around long enough that you'll be able to join me.  I'd love to run alongside you.  And then one day, we can both be Spartans.  Together.


Prepare for glory,

Tu papa

37 weeks in the belly!

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Today you have been in the belly for 37 weeks.  Which means that you are considered "full-term"!  You can be born now and not be considered a preemie.

You weigh about 6 1/3 lbs and are about as long as a stalk of swiss chard. 

We have no idea what you look like and we're anxious to meet you!  Your mom and I are also looking forward to knowing if you are a boy or a girl and giving you a name.  We have a short list of names picked out and when you are born, we'll look at you and talk to you and together the three of us will decide what you'll  be named. 

So, you can technically be born anywhere from five hours to five weeks from now.  Take as much time as you need.  We're ready for you!


Love you always,

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

Baby wants to party

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Your mom and I have been having dreams about you, your birth, and life with you.  These are the typical dreams that a lot of new parents have; mostly due to pre-birth anxiety. 

Last night I had a really unique dream that I want to share with you.  In my dream, I saw your mom going into labor and it seemed to catch us by surprise.  Then, Patrick Swayze's voice boomed down from above and said, "Baby's coming early.  Baby wants to party."

I don't know if this is a message from above (Patrick Swayze, a famous actor of our generation passed away just last year) or if it's just a subconscious mash-up of recent events and thoughts.  Just a few days ago your very pregnant mom and I reenacted the last dance scene from the movie Dirty Dancing, starring Patrick Swayze.  So combine the movie with pre-birth excitement and you have a recipe for a great dream.

Or, it could be that Patrick Swayze is giving us a heads up.

Either way, we can't wait to meet you, Nugget.  You get here when you want to get here.  We'll be ready for you.  And, if you want to party, we're ready to party with you.


Eternally yours,

Tu papa

This is Sparta!

Your dad and his buddies hanging out.

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Your dad suffers from a serious disease called Wannabe-Warrior Syndrome.  I recall suffering from this disease as early as elementary school.  My earliest memory of it was when I was ten years old and coming out of the theatre after watching the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie.  As I kicked imaginary enemies walking down the street, I thought that my calling in life was to be a hero or warrior. 

I grew older, wiser (well, wise enough to know that my hidden talent in life was not in the martial arts or any sort of fighting for that matter) but I still found a deep connection or longing to be strong and able to defend the defenseless.

Eventually this translated into stints in politics, thinking I was pre-Med, then pre-Law, then teaching.  But, the common thread through all this was a pull, or tug, to be able to stand up for what's right and kick ass while doing it.

Which leads me to where I am today: my seventh day of "Spartan Training."  I'll explain the 300 Spartan thing another time, but for now, just know that in the long history of human battle, there were once 300 Spartans who stood up to tens of thousands of Persians and inspired a nation to fight back an invasion and save democracy.  Great story.

In any case, there's a race being held on August 15th, 2010 called the Spartan Race where silly people like me are going to run a 5-kilometer race that involves jumping through fire, crawling through mud under barbed wire, climbing greased walls, and getting beaten with a stick.  And that's only four of the twelve obstacles I'll face.  The idea is to mimic, if even for just a little bit, some of the torturous fighting and training that the Spartans did back in their day. 

I'm training for the race because I think it sounds like an incredibly fun thing to do.  I'm also training for the race because it gives me a goal to help me get back into shape.  I am going to be in great shape when you arrive because I need to be.  Not just because of the race, but because you and your mom are going to need me to be healthy - and that's the ultimate reason to do what I'm doing.

Sure, you'll probably still catch me watching 300 and walking around the house pretending I'm slaying Persians left and right.  But, it's that crazy little Wannabe-Warrior Syndrome that keeps me getting back into shape when I fall out of it. 

I have you and your mom to motivate me to stay healthy and active.  And, I'll use those crazy hero stories to help inspire me off the couch.

So, if you ever see me standing in the middle of the living room and you hear me say, "Madness...?  This is Sparta!"  I suggest you either grab your shield and stand with me or run away 'cause it means daddy's having a relapse.

Eternally yours,

Tu papa

World Cup Break

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Once again, I find myself writing after a long hiatus.  I apologize for the lack of letters over the last few weeks.  I do have a good excuse though, the World Cup!

Nugget, the World Cup 2010 just ended yesterday (Spain beat the Netherlands, 1-0, and are now the World Champions) and the next one won't happen until 2014.  By the time the next World Cup comes around you will be around four years old and on your way to school, God-willing. 

I hope that by that point you will be able to join me in watching the excitement that is World Cup soccer.  I hope that you'll enjoy futbol as much as I do. 

I'd like to think that my letter writing won't drop off during the World Cup 2014, but I make no promises.  The good thing is that you'll already be around and understanding most of the words coming out of my mouth.  So, even if letters aren't being written, you'll be experiencing the action alongside me.

Now that the World Cup is over, I'll use the free time I spent watching soccer to instead build furniture for your room, clean out the apartment, and get other things ready for your arrival.

I'm looking forward to sharing World Cup excitement with you in four years!


Eternally yours,

Your papa

Painting for You

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Tonight my good friend Bob helped me to paint your room.  I sent your mom away to stay with friends for the evening so that she didn't have to breathe in the fumes that come from paint.  So, two good friends got to work and painted the room.

It becomes more real every day that you are on your way.  With just ten weeks left until your estimated time of arrival, I'm getting more and more excited.

Today at work, my colleagues threw a surprise Wedding Shower x 2 for weddings coming up amongst our staff and a Baby Shower x 2 for the babies that are joining us soon.  It was great to hear well wishes for you and we even got some books that your mom and I will read to you when you get here, Nugget.

As Bob and I painted the walls I thought about how this was a task for the "boys" - a good bonding experience where a friend helps a friend get ready for his first child.  But, it also hit me how wonderfully unbelievable it is that I'm getting a room ready for you.  I'm getting your room ready.  How awesome is that?

Well, Chicky, I hope you like it.  I know you probably won't care much for the colors your mom and I picked; at least, not until you develop your own sense of color scheme and likes.  But, I do hope that the room we're putting together for you serves you well.  I hope you will have fun in that room.  I hope that you'll sleep well in that room.  It's yours when you're ready for it.

Getting ready for you,

Your papa