Earliest Memory

The earliest memory I can think of right now happened at some point probably when I was two, living in Ohio, and it’s a two-parter. I guess we lived in some old apartment at the time, and I have this foggy idea of a drunk Santa Claus walking down from the upstairs, making a lot of racket and scaring the crap out of me. Part two of the memory (same apartment, same relative time period, different day) is much more vivid. I was playing in my room (or at least a room where my toys were kept) with Bert and Ernie dolls. My mom was doing laundry and I really needed my Superman shirt washed because it was really important that I wear it. While I was waiting for the shirt to be washed, I guess I had shut and locked myself in my room. While I was playing with Ernie, something stupid happened. Stuffed dolls have little looped tags sewn into the side. I had put my finger in the looped tag, and began twisting it around for some reason. All was fine and swell until I’d twisted it so tight that my finger turned deep blue. And I had twisted it so tight, I couldn’t figure out how to untwist it. So what does any decent two-year old boy do? I think I started screaming like a little girl. With the door locked. I’m sure that freaked my parents out, and I remember my dad picking the lock with a coat hanger to get inside and rescue me from Ernie.

I think that’s pretty much all I remember before our hippie nomad days when we went down to Florida. I’ll tell stories about that later.

My brother Clayton is 6 years younger than I am. I remember sometime after he was born (obviously at some point when he was talking) my mom tried to ask him if he had any memory of being in the womb. He didn’t, of course, but I was fascinated at the time that my mom would even ask that. Just think if we really could remember what it was like in the womb. It’s like in The Abyss when Ed Harris had to force himself to breath liquid, and the scraggly guy told him that he breathed liquid for the first 9 months of his life, his body would remember. Memory is such a fascinating topic for me. Just think that right now, my little lemon-sized baby has actual, real brain waves firing, and a real brain, and that memories of the experience right now in the womb are forming. Maybe we all do have memories of what it’s like to live like that, we just haven’t ever accessed it yet.


Several weeks ago when I decided I wanted to start writing this blog, i decided to start roughly six months out, and continue six months after, engaging in a one-year exploration. While I fully understand the difference between calendar months, strictly-four-week-months, and 28 day cycles, for the purposes of this blog, I decided to use your run-of-the-mill Gregorian Calendar months. That’s why I chose December 6th as my starting date.

Apparently that wasn’t the only significance of this date. Today at around 11:30am I found out that as of February 1st, I will be going from full-time to part-time at my job. This is slightly on the really really scary side of things because going from 40 hours to 20 hours not only means a drastic pay cut, but with it, there goes my family’s health insurance. Um, with mountains of debt and a baby on the way, this isn’t exactly my idea of a good time. We’re a bit freaked out right now. I know in the end, everything will be okay and we’re not going to have to check into the Poor House, but right now, it feels like a giant punch in the gut.

Six months before.

Today is December 6th, 2007. My baby’s official due date is June 6th, 2008. I decided to start this blog as an effort to express my thoughts and feelings on this whole expectant fatherhood thing, beginning six months before baby, and continuing (at least) six months after I become a daddy. Hopefully people will read this and maybe other expectant fathers will want to enter into a dialogue about the whole thing. Maybe this blog will become the first blog on Oprah’s Book of the Month Club. Maybe I will be spending the next 12 months talking to myself. Most importantly, I would like my child to one day be able to read my words and understand how big a deal they are to me. I feel like I hardly have a clue about what it takes to be a dad, but it’s not something I take lightly. That’s another thing about this blog: I want it to be something that helps me figure this all out. So whether my audience is one or a hundred, this is me. This is my life from here on out, and I can’t wait.