Maria

I’m sitting here at desk AUS13 07.580.K3, and I’m tired. Last weekend, Whitney called an audible and sent me up to Abiline on Sunday and Monday to attend the ACU Presidential Scholars Reception and tour day. This was also the day Maria decided ACU would be her undergraduate choice, culminating 2 years of college visits. I’m not 100% on this list, but I think she visited: Baylor (twice) ACU (4 times overall, including a summer program) TCU Texas A&M UT Dallas University of North Texas UT Arlington Texas Tech Duke (Summer Program) UNC-Chapel Hill (while @ Duke) Maria was resolved to attend a school in Texas so some of the schools we dangled before her (Oklahoma, Oklahoma State, Alabama, Vandy, etc.) didn’t resonate at all. General feedback on preferences: ...

Many pithy sayings exist about possessions: “A Boat is a hole in the water you throw money in” “Boat is an acronym that stands for Break Out Another Thousand” “If it has wheels or wings, it’s trouble” (There’s another variant, but this is polite company) To this I’d suppose to add: “A House is a mechanism to kill you, but at least you get to sleep there. That’s why it’s called a ‘mortgage’.” ...

Today is my daughter’s 13th birthday. Thirteen years ago, I watched my wife attempt to deliver our child naturally via the Bradley method, then I watched my daughter get stuck at -2 station, her head caught on my wife’s pelvis, and I watched a sex-addicted doctor cut her open and finally bring my daughter into the world. My account of that day What I left out, of course, was how utterly unprepared I was to be a father. Overwhelmed with emotion, between that 11pm and 11:30pm timestamp, I stood in the room where my wife had tried to push out our daughter, and I cried. I stood there and sobbed. I know now, those were sobs of crushing anxiety cresting into relief. They were both going to be okay. ...

Except for a 1 month break during the summer, Maria and I have been swimming every weekday morning, and I’m quite proud of our progress. In January, we could barely make 1 half-lap of a 25 yard pool without being totally out of breath. Maria was very scared–she could barely swim–and she would only do kickboard stuff at first. I was a complete goof, and the thought of doing even a full 25-yard stint frankly scared me. I couldn’t coordinate my movements, I couldn’t breathe properly, and everything felt like a struggle. I honestly didn’t know if we’d make it out of January still swimming. ...

I did a quarter mile worth of laps in a pool. Holy crap! Maria is now on a summer swim team, racing other kids her age. Holy crap! Got a good pair of goggles at Costco, and my breathing patterns are better, if only my cardio would come along with it.

So, Maria and I are swimming. Maria tends to take after me, in that she can look at food and gain weight, and she rather enjoys food. We both eat our emotions, and emotions we have aplenty. Right after the new year, I noticed just how crotchety I felt, even at 36 years old. My back hurt constantly, I had little energy, I couldn’t deal with stress, etc. Maria was enrolled in swim classes last year and we found out she had limited range-of-motion in her right arm, basically from atrophy. ...

Contrary to popular opinion, I can swim. I actually took snorkeling lessons in 3rd grade and was utterly “into” SCUBA-diving. I loved the water. However, I got awfully used to having swim fins, a buoyancy compensator, and a mask on. Read: I got lazy. Free swimming just didn’t interest me, so I never learned to swim properly: diving, the basic 4 strokes, etc. So, serendipity arrived this new year when Maria’s PT announced that she needed to work-out, every day and that she needed to swim. ...

It was pouring outside, and my daughter was trying to convince me how much she hated a children’s museum 4 hours’ drive away. “Cosi? You mean the museum in Columbus?” I said between bites of Subway sandwich. Oooh, with mayonnaise. My youngest is allergic to eggs, so mayo was a delicacy. “YEAH,” she exploded. I was thankful we were the only customers; Maria’s like a combination of my passion and her mom’s expressiveness. In comparison, a nitromethane Funny Car mouses about. ...

To Maria and Grace, my lovely daughters, Today I learned your blood runs very deep in this country, and deep in Kentucky. Here is your lineage: Your father’s full name is Harold Ray Combs, born in 1978 to Harold Gene and Dottie (Haddix) Combs. Harold Gene was born in 1953 to Bryan and Cora (McIntosh) Combs. (We tend to say the ‘McIntosh’ part of the line is where our crazy comes from, but I’m not so sure.) ...

I resolved to write down a few things to leave for my kids, some things I wished I’d heard from my parents. This is the first of those. My Darling Joey, Maria, and Grace, I love each of you. As each one of you came into my life, you taught me more and more about love, and about myself. Joey, you taught me how to care so much it hurt, how to feel. Maria, you taught me how something was more valuable than momentary happiness. Grace_,_ you taught me the simple joy of fatherhood, how each child is a gift from God, and how a laugh from your beloved child is greater than any physical gift in the world. ...

This morning, my daughter Maria, had a tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy at an outpatient surgery center in Lexington. She did very well, considering. She wasn’t happy to have all that pain when she awoke. She cried, and I held her in the recovery room as they took the IV out of her left arm. The nurses and staff at the outpatient center were attentive, answering our every question. We took the slow trip back to Georgetown in the Cube (still no van ’til next week), and she dozed lightly with mom keeping her company in the back seat. Since then she’s taken her Tylenol 3 (with yummy Codeine) and 2 popsicles.

Maria’s second birthday was yesterday, at 10:40pm. At that point, everyone else was asleep and I was at the computer working on our taxes for the year. We’re having her party this weekend on Sunday.

It’s been a long journey from terror, to disdain, to abidance, to curiousity, but now, HERE IT IS:

Wanted to snapshot this so I remember it when Maria’s 30, has kids of her own, and they keep her up all night. So, Whitney and I watched Mr. Holland’s Opus, then tuned-in the election coverage at 10:20 pm to get some returns (at the time Obama only had 200+ of the 270 needed). Maria was a bit fussy, but fell back to sleep around the same time. Then, the fun began. ...

Beneath the walnut trees I sit amid the grass. I stare aloft, and gape At those confined in glass. The hum refused to cease. The din goes on each morn. Oh whom shall break away? That bairn might now be born. To find a place of peace, Reprieve from cage and mark. Discover life’s true course! Ignite her Holy spark. Maria, art thou mine? I know thy path is wide. God, grant me skill to give You compass deep inside.

I sit beside Toner Creek on a bench, regarding building 082, or as I call it, The Crystal Palace. It’s chilly (!) in the shade today. A light Northerly breeze combined with a persistent cold front–we had a record low of 53 degrees this morning. Lunch today is a banana and some ABC-123’s…yep I’m on the Dave Ramsey diet again. Decided last night to plow some more money into the E30. As Whitney said, “It’s something you love. Enjoy it!” So, I’ve planned: ...

Well, we got the final diagnosis of Maria’s 9 days of diarrhea today: Rotavirus. She’s been one sick girl, admitted to the ER twice for fluids. She seems to be over the worst of it; no diarrhea today, she’s just really sleepy and wanting fluids but not much solid. Took the day off work so I could do a few jobs around the house and finish the brake job on the Camry. Got a sweet set of Brembo rotors and Ceramic pads, and things are going famously so far–everything disassembled without any WD40 or torch application :D ...

Nasty stuff Jeff Roberts - Apr 5, 2008 Nasty stuff

Maria’s First Birthday Check it out!! My gal’s One!

Or…“How I learned to love my own child less than sleep for 10 minutes”. I’ve been off work since December 21st. During all that time, I got alot of sleep. I didn’t get enough, apparently. So last night, I went out into what passes for a blizzard in Kentucky to pick-up Joey from his dad’s. I returned to find Whitney had a story for me–Maria had clanged her head on the crib. Hard. In her soft spot. She’d called the Dr., but the Dr. said likely everything would be fine. ...