first night on the town.

Dear Augosto.

Last night, we took you on your first "official" outing. You participated in another outing(Two Fridays ago) but that was just to your doctor's appointment. Nothing eventful about it. They weighed you(you gained 4 oz). You peed on a nurse(I jest not). Your mother asked the doctor questions and that was about it.

That is why I yesterday was real deal.

And where did we choose to take you on your first evening out in Milwaukee? A play? No. A movie? Not even close. An academic lecture on global warming? Not yet.

We took you too a fish fry!

Your mom, as well as your grandparents, picked me up from the train station and we went out to eat at Serb Hall. I could tell you the history of this place but I don't know much about it except for the most important fact that they have a fish fry buffet every Friday! WOO-HOO!!! They have all kinds of fried fish. I'd name them but I don't even remember their names. All I know is that what they serve previously swam in an ocean or a lake and through various wonders of the American workforce it is now fried.

The atmosphere is quite interesting. When you walk in, it looks and feels like you walked into a hall that the 1950's forgot. Also. The waitresses are quite nice(they remind me of the cafeteria ladies at my elementary school). It usually isn't too packed. And the desserts are always great(Last night, they had pumpkin pie!).

Afterwards, we took you too Leon's for custard. Now, if there is ever a place I could go everyday it's Leon's. It's even possible since they are open all year round. Even on those days when the snow is piled up high all over the streets, Leon's is dishing out the custard. AND. There is always a line. That's how good it is. (HISTORICAL NOTE: Leon's, open since 1942, is supposedly the place that Arnold's Drive-in from HAPPY DAYS is modeled after.)

And even though you were surrounded by all this fun and excitement, you were asleep the whole time. :) I guess it didn't help that we had you in the car seat and I already told you what happens when we put you in there. Droopy eyes. Heavy breathing. Then, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

In other news, today is Halloween and this is how you wanted to be dressed. :)



(NOTE: Your not looking at the camera because you are staring at the colors on your Dr. Seuss blanket. Your mom says that when you are not staring at the cork board map, you are staring at this. Can't wait to find out what your favorite color is.)

Happy Halloween.

Love.

Dad.

the cork board puzzle

Dear Augosto,

In your room, there is a map of the United States on the wall. It's actually a puzzle that your mom bought. We put it together, placed it on a cork board, and hung it right above your changing table.

Mom says when she changes your diaper that sometimes instead of crying(because you definitely do that) you stare at the map. I can only assume that you are intrigued by the vibrant colors of each state(TEXAS is big and red) but I also have an inkling to wonder if you are looking at the map the way an adventurer looks at it. As a "To Do" list. California first. Then New York. Hawaii after that.

Curiosity has gotten to me. Where would you like to go first? How long do you want to go? And if we haven't already taken you there, when do you want to go?

Sorry so short. Took a short break to write a paper for TV sitcom class and now I have to get back to it.

Enjoy your day...and when that map of the United States gets too small for you, your mother and I will get you one of the world...then the planets.

Have a great day.

Love.

DAD

Things I Have Learned

Dear Augosto,

Here is a list of things that I, as a new father, have learned in just one full week.

TICKLING DOESN'T EQUAL LAUGHTER. I've tried it a few times and all I get is blank stares. Nothing. Nada. And when you actually do give me a look, it's like "Look you strange strange man. Stop tickling me already."

YOU WEARING CLOTHES IS NOT LIKE ME WEARING CLOTHES. When I get dressed, I usually plan on wearing my clothes for the rest of the day. When we put clothes on you, it's a gamble. They might last all day but it's highly unlikely. Three outfits is not uncommon.

GRANDMA TRUMPS DAD. There is something about the aura/energy that exudes from your grandmother. When you are put in her hands, the calming effect is instant. When you are put in my hands, calming you is a task. I just rack this up as paying my dues.

MISUNDERSTANDING THE CLICHE. I used to think that "sleeping like a baby" meant sleeping for a really long time. That's not what that term means. It actually means sleeping for about an hour or maybe two(if we're lucky) and then crying for food. Repeat over and over for most of a 24 hour period.

FINISHED? NOT REALLY. Just because I think it's time to change your diaper, doesn't mean you are done. You have proved this time and time again.

HUMAN ARMS VS CAR SEAT VS BASSINET. I wrote about this earlier but I figured it was worth mentioning again. Human arms win out over all. The car seat comes in a close second. And the Bassinet doesn't even place.

CLEAN DIAPER = BLISS. It never fails. Once that final tab is attached, the crying stops. The kicking stops. Even the grunting.

ELMO DOESN'T TRUMP PAIN. Lets just say there was an "accident" with the Elmo book. I think you cried more about of being startled than anything else. Even the Elmo puppet inside the book couldn't calm you down.

MOM TRUMPS EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING. This is just a given. Not much to really explain. She did give BIRTH to you!

A CHANGE IS GONNA COME. When people found out we were having a kid, many made sure to say, "It's gonna change you." What they didn't say or at least forgot to say is, "It's all worth it."

That's all I got for now.

Have a good night.

Love.

El Dadio

Dear Augosto,

As you probably don't know(I assume this due to my understanding that your vision is limited to a distance of 8 to 15 inches), I am not there. I'm back at school in Evanston, which basically means I'm knocking out a lot of writing assignments and reading a lot more plays, textbooks and...poetry(Yes, poetry. I have to admit that there is something about poems that help inspire me when it comes to finding the right words in my plays & screenplays. But I don't just read any ol' poet. I pick the ones who know how to bend ideas & paint pictures with the smallest amount of letters. My current favorite is Martin Espada.).

But back to what I was saying. After a week full of adventures with you--the bassinet, the car seat, the flying "mustard seed"--I had to get on the Megabus and get ready for today. I won't dwell on this too much(because this will be part of my routine until I graduate in June) but I will say that it wasn't easy leaving. Believe me, I would rather be at home, hanging out with you and helping out your mother as best that I can.

Luckily, your mother has some help--your grandparents. :)

They flew in two Saturdays ago in hopes of being around to see you when...you arrived(I was going to say, "...when the stork brought you" but then I realized that by the time you read this I am almost positive you will know where babies come from. I learned in 5th grade and I have to admit that I was bit a stunned and worried. I even remember telling myself, "I have to do that?!!").

I figure it is worth noting that grandma and grandpa Lopez had some great timing. They weren't even in town a full 48 hours before you decided it was your time to "make an entrance."

I have no doubts your grandparents are enjoying you as much as I have. But then again, why am I telling you? Here is proof.




There is so much more I want to tell you but homework awaits.

Have a great day.

Love Dad.

PS. Talked to you on the phone today. Actually, I was the one talking and you were just listening. I think you grunted a few times.

a day off

Dear Augosto,

I have always had high respect for those individuals who use Sunday(or any specific day) to make time for those individuals who are important to them.

So, in an attempt to follow what I believe, I will not write in this journal on Sundays...unless of course there are special circumstances that beg to be written about. :)

Hope you had a great day,

Love,

Dad.

PS. In about 13 hours, you will officially be one week old! WOO-HOO!!!

cool hair

Dear Augosto,

This picture made me think about something that has been a constant issue for me ever since I was old enough to look in a mirror--Hair.

When I was a kid, I hated my hair. HAY with a capital T-E-D.

It wasn't anything like the hair I saw on TV. Not on the Brady Bunch or Family Ties or Growing Pains or even the Vidal Sassoon commercials.

It wasn't what I saw on the silver screen. Not like Rambo's or The Karate Kid's or Gizmo's(the Mogwai in Gremlins whose fur looked nice & soft like baby hair).

Most importantly, my hair wasn't even close to what was on top of my friends' heads. They had cool hair. Hair that dreams are made of. Hair that bald rich people would pay top dollar for.

My good friend Joe had a pampadour like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. It was soooooo perfect that it looked like a hair helmet and it never looked out of place even if he was just crawling out of bed. My buddy Hugo had hair like the guys in Metallica. It was straight, long, and shiny(even girls envied it). Kind of like a horse tail. I think this was due to his Aztec indio roots.

And then there was my hair. It was thick and course like an overused broom. Fluffy like a big bush. Unmanageable like an old wire brush. It was kind of like a Mexican afro. And when I would get it wet, it would repel water. No gel, no mousse, no relaxer could tame it.

Long story short, I continued to wish/hope/pray to go prematurely bald all the way up to high school.

Then, I took a job working for my Tio Samuel, or more commonly known as Uncle Sam. He helped me realize that it wasn't that I had bad hair. I just had bad haircuts.

I tell you all this in case you ever start to feel your hair has a curse on it.

We all aren't lucky enough to get the hair that we want(If you ask around, you will see that many people feel this way about their hair). But if you keep an open mind and try different styles, especially ones that are not commonly seen on the screen or on your friends, you will eventually find one that works for you.

But just a word of caution. You're mother isn't too keen on mohawks. I've asked her.

Have a great night,

Dad.

the bassinet zone

Dear Augosto,

After just five days, you have already made one thing clear. You do not like bassinets. OK. Maybe "like" is not the right word. More like despise. Or loathe. Or even detest. Putting you in a bassinet is almost as bad as putting Zaide(the fat cat that scowls at you every time you cry) into her pet carrier.

Actually, getting you in there is not the hard part. It's what happens milliseconds after you get in there that makes it difficult. You don't cry. Crying would be bearable compared to what you do.

I guess the best way to explain it is it's as if you are an Autobot and the bassinet is a Decepticon(if you don't get this reference, let me know and we'll rent TRANSFORMERS on whatever digital media is available in the future). You were both built to be each other's arch-nemesis. You have proved this over and over. Even if you are in a deep deep slumber, your body seems to have this internal g.p.s. that detects when you are entering the bassinet zone. When you get near it, you become fully alert and then the "fun" begins!

Luckily, you're mother and I have discovered an alternative to the bassinet--the car seat. Putting you in there is like placing you on a bed made of angel feathers and cotton candy. You are no match for it. Your eyes get droopy, your breathing gets heavy and BAM! It's sheep counting time.



This is even before we get you in the car!

Lucky for us, this car seat is soooooooooooo comfortable that you don't even notice how bad Milwaukee's streets are. OK. Maybe "bad" is not the right word. More like pitiful. Or horrendous.

sweet dreams.

love.

dad.

It's the Great Little Pumpkin!

Dear Augosto,

When you are old enough to be a father, I want you to consider this...

Until your children are old enough to dress themselves, you can put them in the cutest most embarrassing outfits you can find!



Mom & Augosto. Home arrival. 10-21-09





Love.

Dad.

It costs how much?

Dearest Augosto.

I don't know if this will be of any interest to you but from time to time I plan on posting the prices of various things to give you an idea of what things cost today. I feel it might also serve as a reminder for me so when I complain to you about rising prices I can start off my sentences with "When you were little, coffee didn't set you back half a days pay" or "Just 20 years ago, you didn't have to take out a loan to buy gas."

As of today,
A cup of Starbucks coffee at the hospital : $1.60
Regular Unleaded Gas in Milwaukee: $2.69 a gallon.
The Journal Sentinel(the daily paper): 75 cents.

Thinking about those three items makes me wonder how important they will be as you grow up.

--As for coffee, I think it will always be a staple in our society. I'm a coffee lover. So are most of the people in my cohort at Northwestern. Your mother on the other hand doesn't like it. Not one bit. I do have to admit that I didn't always like coffee. It wasn't until I was in the US Army and I needed something that would help me wake me up after less than 3 hours of sleep. And if there is anyone out there who has tasted this stuff, they will tell you that Army coffee will do the job. It's like drinking 5 espressos. And just because it is called "coffee" doesn't mean it is anything like what we have in the civilian world. Army coffee is thick and black(like tar) and it is chewy because it is full of coffee grinds. It's the perfect example of what other American companies are doing to basic food items like hamburgers, honey and cheese. I could go on and rant about it but I'll just say this, "just because it looks like (blank) and smells like (blank), doesn't mean it is."

--As for gas, I do hope that the future has brought us to a point where we don't have petroleum dependent cars. Hybrids are becoming popular nowadays. If your mother and I could actually afford one, we would definitely own one. Until then, we have a car that gives us pretty good gas mileage. Maybe when you are old enough to have a family, they will have cars that run on plastic grocery bags or trash or even dirt. It seems like there is plenty of that around.

--Last but not least. The newspaper. Like film, the daily newspaper(in its print form) is slowly becoming a dinosaur. I don't know anyone who actually reads the daily paper except for both your grandfathers. I just prefer the Sunday paper in print form. I do hope you at least get to experience lazy Sundays with the Sunday newspaper. Your mother and I love them.

Now go to sleep.

love.

Dad.

Home

Dear Augosto,

After two days in the hospital, "we" were released from the hospital. Actually, you and your mother were the only ones who were obligated to stay 2 days but I decided to stay too. Not because I am a fan of hospital bland food or cheap uncomfortable cots.

I stayed because there was no way that I was going to stay at home while you and your mother were pent up in a hospital room. I also wanted to be there to help your mom just in case she need an extra pair of hands. I'm not sure I helped all that much because every time you cried, you wanted what I couldn't give you--milk. But I hope that I was some sort of useful.

Your mother took this picture of me being "helpful."



Love.

Dad

your first day

Dear Augosto.

This picture was taken with your mom's Mac(a brand of computer that we hope is still alive & kicking when you are trying to make a life for yourself). It wasn't easy. I had to maneuver the camera lens just right so I wouldn't just have a picture of a your arm or your big toe or half of your face. :)

After you were born, I took many pictures of you with our digital camera. Some with your mom. Some with grandmother Lopez. Then, I attempted to download the pictures but I couldn't because I was unable to find the "magic" cord that allows me to transfer pictures on the camera to the Mac.

I looked everywhere for that cord but no luck.

When your dad was a kid, we didn't need cords to get the pictures out of the camera. We just used film. We put the film in the camera, took pictures, and when we were done all we had to do was drop off the film and get the pictures a few days later. Today, film is almost non-existent. Everybody uses digital. Yet, in our rush to modernize, it seems like we lost something that we had when we used film. It seems that nobody really prints pictures anymore. They store them on their computers or in their phones. Yet, stored photos don't seem as personal as actual printed photos. Having an actual photo of someone shows how much you care about someone. Because it takes effort to have a photo printed nowadays. I have one of your mom in my wallet. And soon I'll have one of you.

I don't think I'm being a pessimist when I say that film will most likely be extinct when you are older. I feel I'm being more of a realist.

But I am also an optimist from time to time.

I do hope when you are older that everything in our society has shifted to being a cordless. I have to admit that many products have been invented or at least re-imagined in order to help our country take major strides towards cordlessness. The cell phone. The laptop. The remote control. But for some reason, our camera still has to be plugged into something in order to put the pictures on a computer. And we can't just use any ol' cord. We have to use a special one. One that is quite expensive, especially if we had to buy it again just because I wasn't able to remember where I placed it(remember what I said about my memory?).

Don't worry though. Even if I have to flip over the couch and dig under places I don't usually fit, I'll find the cord and post more pictures when I can.

Love.

Dad.

A Son Is Born

Dear Augosto,

"Today is the first day of the rest of your life."

I hate to start off any of my writing with a cliche but this is one of those times where I feel that those words, tired or not, are the proper ones for this specific occasion. Because it really is your 1st day here on Planet Earth(don't worry, you are not an alien). You were born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin at St. Mary's Hospital at 1:13pm. And you came in at a whopping 8 lbs. 5 oz. WOO-HOO!!!

And yet, even though this is such a momentous day--one of many that you will take part in--I also have some bad news for you. You will most likely not remember any part of this day. Not even a smidgen. Not the yelling, the screaming or even the heavy breathing. Especially if you are blessed with your father's bad memory skills--you will find out more about this as we get to know each other.

I have to admit that you probably wouldn't want to remember a lot of what happened today. Big Draconian style forceps were involved. And lots of crying. Some from you. Some from your mom. And, yes, some even from me.

And because you won't be able to recall your actual birthday and, most likely, many days/months after that, this is sole the reason I am writing this journal(some will call this a "blog" but I never liked the word because it sounds too much like bacon + log). This is my attempt to document your life(as best as I can while balancing Grad School and regular life). I am quite aware that you can't read right now...or speak English...or even use your hands properly, but those accomplishments won't be too far ahead in the future. And when those days come, and you possibly become curious about the time period you grew up in, this journal will hopefully provide you with an idea of what it was like to raise a Latino male in the 2009 and beyond.

Some days I will just post pictures. Other days it will be important events in your life or ours.

This is my first of many gifts to you.

Your Father.

asr