Making Good Ol’ Fashioned Foot Wine

My cousin and her husband have been renting a beautiful A Frame house overlooking Keuka Lake while house hunting. This house overlooks quite a bit of vineyards and T had expressed an interest in making some homemade wine. I said it sounded good to me and once the grapes got ripe to let me know and we could go picking and we get get working on some homemade wine.

Well, the grapes were ready yesterday and there is no time like the present to get started so we took the kids down and started picking. All of the grapes that were available to us were Vitis labrusca meaning that they are not the classic or “noble” grapes like Merlot, Cabernet, Chardonnay, Riesling, etc. They were Concord, Catawba, and Niagara grapes, but they were what were available to us and they will still make a decent homemade wine if treated nicely.

We set the kids up with a bucket and T and I set about picking a mix of Catawba and Concords.

A Bird and M were good for about two buckets half filled then they decided it was much more fun to eat grapes as they chased each other though the vineyard rows.

After we had a couple of totes of reds, T an I filled three 6 gallon buckets full of Niagara grapes, and then we were off. By this time, it was getting late and the kids needed dinner so T and I made arrangements that he would take the reds and process them that night and I would take the whites and crush them and get them going. So T and M dropped A Bird and I off at home and were off and rolling to get home for some dinner.

A Bird and I woofed down a quick dinner and were out on the deck for some old fashioned grape stomping. Yep, we were using her little feet to crush them up.

Here we are as I am just lowering her in.

I think she likes it.

Then she started to get the hang of things. Two buckets at once !!!

L Bird was shocked as you can see, lol!

Then L Bird got into the act.

Finally all of the grapes were crushed and the girls left to hit the showers to rinse the sticky juice off their legs and seeds from their toes and left me with the job of straining the skins and pulp from the juice and transferring the juice to a carboy. IT TOOK FOREVER, well at least it felt like FOR-EV-ER. After it was all over, three buckets of grapes worked out to roughly 3.5 gallons, it doesn’t seem like much compared to the amount of grapes but it definitely is not a bad using your feet compared to a real basket press.

So now all of the juice is fermenting, both the reds and the whites. I’ll keep you updated on the progress of the foot wine, and I’m sure there will be some interesting tasting notes.

How did you spend your Sunday???

Look Out Kindergarten, Here Comes A Bird!

Well, its official I have a kindergartener. A Bird started her first day of school yesterday. I don’t know where the last five years have gone. It seems just like yesterday that it was just L Bird and I sitting in a dimly lit hospital room holding A Bird in our arms. She was so little and cozy wrapped up in her receiving blankets, now here she is a full fledged 5 year old embarking on a brand new adventure without Mom and Dad. I knew it was coming but I can’t believe it is here, it was one of my happiest, proudest, and saddest moments sending her off to school. But anyway here is how the day shook out….


She was a little nervous about riding the bus, but luckily our daycare provider’s daughter took it upon herself to sit with A Bird for the first week until she gets used to the bus ride. So that set A Bird’s nerves at ease. We all got to daycare a little early to snap a few first day pictures, then she gave L Bird and I a big hug and a kiss and hopped onto the bus like she had been doing it for years. The bus driver stopped her and introduced herself and told A Bird where to sit and then they were off. The whole process took less than five minutes.

I have to admit I got a little misty when she got on the bus and was gone, but L Bird was pretty upset and nervous about her getting off the bus and into the school. So we drove to the school and parked in the lot trying to see A Bird get off the bus. L Bird just wanted to gauge her reaction getting off the bus to make sure she wasn’t upset after the bus ride. We got really lucky and were able to see her get off the bus without her seeing us. A Bird looked confident as she hopped down and followed other kids towards the door. She was just about to enter the door when she gave a clear sign she was excited about school that put L Bird’s mind at ease. Ever since A Bird has been a baby whenever she gets excited she balls up her fists at her sides and kind of does this little shake with her arms, it’s like she has so much energy and excitement in her that she can’t contain it and it just comes out in this little shake. Just before she hit the door, she did this and we knew she would be OK.

L Bird and I tried to fill the day with tasks to keep our minds off of worrying about A Bird. We went out to breakfast, then came home and L Bird painted the nursery while I brought down the crib and changing table from the attic and reassembled them. Then finally it was time to go and get her off the bus. We got to the daycare a little early to make sure we were there in time for the bus, but apparently there are more kids this year so we waited what seemed like an enormous amount of time for the bus to finally show up and drop her off.

She got off like she got on, just hopped off the bus like she had been doing it forever. The bus pulled away and L Bird and I tried not to bombard her with questions but failed miserably. To A Bird’s credit she answered almost everyone. I think the highlight of her day was gym class, she looked at me and said “Dad, I had P.E. today.” I asked her what she did and she told us about playing some sort of music freeze game. She talked more about P.E. class and the P.E. teacher than she did her regular teacher and anything else she did that day.

All in all, it looks like her first day was a big success. She came home happy and ready to go back today. I know she’ll be fine but L Bird and I are going to take a little while to get used to this. I can’t believe I have a daughter in school, crazy right??

Harvest Time……

This has a been a crazy summer with a ton of stuff going on, so instead of making excuses/explanations of what has been going on I am just going to jump back into this blogging thing. OK? OK, so here we go.

We have planted a pretty big garden this year. This is the second year we have tried raised bed gardens, I have 6 - 4 foot by 4 foot raised beds and it has been working out well for us. We planted tomatoes, peppers, hot peppers, carrots, potatoes, onions, cucumbers, green beans, peas, eggplant, yellow squash, zucchini, watermelon, cantaloupe, and a lone pumpkin plant. We have been harvesting a lot of produce all this summer, but now fall is upon us we went out did a bunch of picking tonight since a ton of it is ripe.

That is about 40 Roma tomatoes, green beans, jalapenos, and a couple of eggs.

Fresh Carrots

Now, I have been growing potatoes by the bucket method for the last two years. Last year I didn’t get a whole lot out of the potatoes but this year I did a lot better. The bucket method is pretty easy, you take any old 5 gallon bucket, drill holes in the bottom for drainage, lay a layer of topsoil down, then place 3-4 sprouting taters in the bottom then cover with another inch of soil. Once the potato shoots break through and grow 4-6 inches high cover the shoots with top soil to just above the top leaves, then repeat this process until the dirt is at the top of the bucket and the potato shoots are growing from the top of bucket. Then keep watered and in the sun. It will flower, grow and at the end of the season die back. Once all of the shoots have died back, leave it sit for a week or two before harvesting. After that its pretty easy harvesting, just flip the bucket over, dump out the dirt and search for fresh potatoes.

I dump the buckets in the chicken run, because after I finish getting the potatoes the chickens like to peck and scratch through the dirt for bugs or whatever else.

I probably got about 3 – 4 pounds between the two buckets. Not too bad right.

So now I have to figure out how to can the tomatoes and make “dilly beans”.

How did your garden do this year???

I Feel Like Roger Murtaugh….

I feel like Roger Murtaugh aka Danny Glover from the Lethal Weapon movies. One of his famous lines that he says in every movie is “I’m too old for this shit!”. That is exactly how I feel this morning. I have had a few weekends of heavy drinking with friends. First we had something to celebrate, then last weekend was L Bird’s birthday complete with Sake shots, then last night was the first bonfire of the season, so it has been something every weekend for the last month. So last night when all was said and done I left Captain Insano and Luci at the bonfire around 2:30 AM to head to bed. I was a few sheets to the wind and all I wanted was the bed and sleep. I am out like a light as my head hits the pillow. Perfect. Well perfect until 7 AM when A Bird decided she wanted to get up and came into our bedroom. Then I had to get up and help her find her slinky because that was a huge crisis in her world at 7 o’clock in the morning. So I find it, put The Amazing World of Gumball on the TV and slink off to the bed for another 30 minutes of sleep which doesn’t happen because I am awake now and uncomfortable in the bed. It’s just too damn hot.

I am definitely getting too old to function with only 4 hours of sleep. The majority of our friends don’t have kids so they still have a late night schedule. If they stay out all night, they can sleep all morning if they wanted to with no interruptions. They can leisurely get up and go about their routine without a thousand requests before your eyes are open.

Dad, can you find my slinky?

Dad, can I have some apple juice?

No Dad I said I wanted milk, can I have some milk?

Dad, put Gumball on.

Dad, look what I can do, look look Dad.

I  get her what she needs and drag into the shower and finally just now my head has quit hurting. Yup,I’m definitely too old for all this nonsense. So I’m drying out for awhile, wish me luck.

My Life With CP...

So it’s been quite awhile since I last posted. There has been a ton of stuff that has been happening but I just ran out of motivation to write about it. My pendulum swung the other way for a bit, where anything I started to write I deleted because I felt self conscious about it or I was just angry and decided what happened was my business and everyone else could go piss up a rope. Even as I am writing this I have the intense urge to just say screw it and erase this whole thing.


But anyway this past week I have been trying to find some introspection on cerebral palsy and how it has affected my life. This past week at work we had our annual United Way fund raiser and one of the speakers spoke about his son who has CP and the services he received from Happiness House which specializes in services for people with disabilities. Their focus is mainly CP and other brain injury. For those of you who don’t know CP is:

While cerebral palsy (pronounced seh-ree-brel pawl-zee) is a blanket term commonly referred to as “CP” and described by loss or impairment of motor function, cerebral palsy is actually caused by brain damage. The brain damage is caused by brain injury or abnormal development of the brain that occurs while a child’s brain is still developing — before birth, during birth, or immediately after birth.


Cerebral palsy affects body movement, muscle control, muscle coordination, muscle tone, reflex, posture and balance. It can also impact fine motor skills, gross motor skills and oromotor functioning.


**www.cerebralpalsy.org

I was born with cerebral palsy caused from lack of oxygen to my brain during birth. It has affected everything in my life, but I was very lucky that my symptoms are very mild. My muscle coordination is impaired, I have trouble with my hands, my joints, especially my hips are very tight, and I have a pronounced tremor.

The two hardest things I had to deal with growing up were my hands and my tremor. My fingers and knuckles are really tight, but my thumbs are the most affected. They get very stiff and I really have to concentrate to move them. Growing up I had to go to a physical therapist at school to “exercise” my hands. She would roll a large wooden egg into the webbing between my thumb and index finger to stretch them out and ease some of the muscle stiffness. She helped me learn to write using large grip adapters for pens and pencils, but eventually gave up and let me work out my own position system for writing. Where most people write holding the pen between their thumb and index finger, I write with the pen between my middle and ring finger. I hold my fork that way too. When I eat a sandwich, I don’t grasp it between my thumb and fingers, I’ll hold it between my index and middle fingers, using them like tongs or pincers. So growing up I got a lot of strange looks when I had to eat or write.

The tremor was much worse for me because it was so pronounced that everyone noticed. From elementary school through high school my head would bob and weave and create its own irregular orbit around my neck. It is all involuntary and I think that is a reason my neck is so large today. I think that all of the muscles firing in my neck got strengthened to keep my head steady. In addition to my neck I have routine involuntary muscle spasms/twitches where parts of my body just move or lurch. I’ll be lying in bed flat on my back and my shoulders will clench and contract causing my arms and chest to move as well. As I’ve grown older and started working out, I have strengthened my muscles and that helps to reduce my tremor. It is still there and visibly noticeable, but reduced. It becomes much more pronounced if I am concentrating or someone says the four words I absolutely hate to hear, “Try to stay still”. The minute someone says that I become acutely aware of just how much I am moving, so I concentrate on stopping it which just makes it that much worse. I recently went for about six acupuncture appointments and that was a struggle to lie still while she put numerous needles in me, but fortunately she was very patient and worked well in spite of my constant movement. I won’t ever get a massage just because I don’t like people touching me because I know I am going to move uncontrollably at their touch.

The tremor has affected me much more deeply than any of my other symptoms/traits. Because it was so noticeable, I was teased A LOT. Kids are mean in general, so if it wasn’t for my tremor they would have found something else to pick on me about. But because that was the one thing that was so noticeable that was what they focused on. Because of the teasing I learned a lot about myself. I learned that I fought off a lot of their jabs with humor. I would laugh it off in front of them and burn them with a joke trying to not let them see how deeply they cut me. Then when I was alone I would cry and hate myself for being the way I was. I also learned that I had a very clear limit that when pushed to it I responded with violence. There are a few words that push me over the edge, “retard”, “cripple”, and finally one nickname that I loathe “Shakes”. When I was twelve or thirteen there was one kid who found it hilarious to nickname me Shakes Schrader. I had heard from other kids that he was saying it and it hurt me a lot. I tried to avoid him as often as I could until one day during a pick up game of football he said it to my face and everyone around me started laughing hysterically. It was at that point I lost it, I hit that kid so hard he folded like a cheap suit. Then I pummeled him until I was dragged off him and dragged back to my grandparents house. My Grandpa smiled, shook his head and sent me to take a shower where I broke down. But that was a defining moment in my life, no one ever called me Shakes again, at least not in my hearing distance. There have been times where I have thought I’ve seen that word coming to the lips of people I know, but the look in my eyes hardens and they seem to notice and know enough to stifle it before it is said.

As I got older, I realized that some people had some couth and others had none. I had a mother of a girl I was very involved with ask her “So if you two ever have kids will they come out like him?” That stung hard, the “like him?” hurt like I was some sort of grotesque monster that shouldn’t be allowed to reproduce. Even as bad as that was there was a lot of good too. There were people that were interested in me and put all of the bullshit behind them and would just straight up ask me what was “going on” with me. I appreciated that they had the courage enough to come and ask me and genuinely seemed interested in hearing what CP was. There have always been people who have  noticed my tremor but try to ignore it because that is what is politically correct only to go and ask someone who knows me “so what’s his deal?”.

Overall, CP has affected my life in some pretty horrible ways but it has also made me the man I am and that to me is a blessing. Although I have had to learn to live with CP and all of the crap that comes with it, I am thankful that my CP isn’t nearly as severe as it could be. I know I could be wheelchair bound and totally dependent on caregivers. I am not trying to throw a pity party, I know how lucky I am. We all face adversity in our lives, CP is mine. It has been a challenge but one that has made me a stronger person.

So there you go, for those of you who don’t know me well enough to ask, “that’s my deal.”. This is why I am the way I am. There are numerous other ways that CP has affected me but I have already rambled on long enough with these. What is written above are a few of the bigger things that are always in the back of my mind. So enough for now because I am really, really fighting the urge to delete this whole thing before I can post it.

Easter Kite Flying…

A Bird got a kite for Easter from Grandma Pat. She was pretty stoked, and because our house always feels like we live in a wind tunnel it was a perfect gift. So today we went out to fly it for the first time, because guess what? Surprise it was super windy.

I got the kite in the air and handed the reins over to A Bird.

In exchange I was handed her “bug catching net” and Ladybug her favorite baby doll. Once the hand off was made, she proceeded to run like a maniac back and forth dragging the kite and laughing hysterically.

Overall, it was a great afternoon outside. But as I sat there watching her run around, I had a question. How did kites get associated with Easter? Then I thought ah hell who cares and went back to flying kites.

Happy Easter Everyone!!!

Working Man...

The alarm goes off at 5 am rousing him from dreams of being independently wealthy and lounging on white sand beaches with a cold drink in his hand as Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville” plays in the background. The reality of another day of work sets in as he pulls himself from the bed and stumbles towards the bathroom for a shower.


He lets the hot water wash away the last of the tiredness and body aches as he talks with God about keeping his loved ones safe and cancer counts decreasing. Washed and teeth brushed, he turns the water off, towels off and steps to the sink to shave. Wiping away the fog from the mirror, a face he doesn’t recognize appears. The face looks old and beat, wrinkles and crow’s feet dim the once bright eyes. Shocks of white whiskers are prominently displayed in his beard. He just shakes his head as he thinks he has grown old before his time.

He heads back to bedroom and dresses for the day. Dressed and ready to go he leans over the bed and kisses his sleepy eyed wife goodbye. He walks to his daughter’s room but doesn’t enter for fear of waking her and having her up too early, so he listens outside the door for the steady pattern of her breathing. Content with the safety of his girls, he grabs his lunch and hits the door.

In the blink of an eye he is at work. Although the drive takes 25 minutes, he has driven that drive so many times that it just all dazes out until he is pulling into his spot. He is one of the first people through the doors, so it’s quiet. This is his favorite time of the work day, there is no one around to interrupt him or bother him. It’s just him and his work. He plows through as much as he possibly can in silence until his co-workers start to arrive. The rest of the workday is a blur, meetings and work assignments are the main course for the day. He finds himself being the sounding wall for a large number of his co-workers. They come in for casual conversation which leads to how much work they have on their plate and how stressed they are. How they never have enough time to finish one thing before something else is asked of them and how they work so much harder than most but receive little recognition for that fact. He sits listening and occasionally nodding his head in agreement thinking to himself if they spent as much energy on their work as they did bitching about their work they would have it done with plenty of time to spare. Once they are content with venting their frustrations they leave to look for the next sympathetic ear to repeat their story to.

While they are complaining he keeps his head down and mouth shut to get everything done. While they piss and moan about how much they have to do, he is asking for more responsibility and more work. It isn’t that he is some kind of working class hero or anything special, he just knows that he wants and needs to learn more to stay a viable asset. Being a viable asset means longevity in this business which equals stability which equals putting food on the table and making sure his family is provided for.

He doesn’t need the recognition or the accolades that the typical business ass kissers get by riding the backs of their workers. He is happy to toil away under the radar putting in consistently good work and taking on more when he is able. He doesn’t need people to know how hard he works during the day when they perceive that he has it easy, he knows he works hard and that’s all that matters. He is no different than anyone else of the working class. He goes in, does his job, and gets out and as long as that keeps providing for his family he is content.

His day ends and he heads for home anxious to get there to spend the few precious hours before bedtime that he gets during the week with his wife and daughter. The ride shakes off any leftover stress from the day and his mind turns work off so that when his wife asks him at dinner about his day he can barely remember anything of note from work. He prefers to spend his off time thinking about what matters in his life, not worrying or stressing about workplace fears and drama.

The night ends with his daughter tucked into her bed and an hour or so of adult television on the couch with his wife. He finally heads to bed and falls asleep quickly, content with this world and his place in it. He is ready to face the next day and everything it brings.

Life is good.

Good Nights

I love Wednesday night swim lessons with A Bird. I enjoy watching her progress and get a lot of good water safety and time in the water. But its nights like last night that I truly love, when I get to spend some Daddy/Daughter time with A Bird. L Bird had a work banquet so it was just me and A Bird for swim lessons. We loaded up into the car, rolled the windows down, turned the radio up, and she say every song on the radio, whether she knew the words or not.


We get to the YMCA a little early, so we go in and get her swim suit on and her bubble backpack, then she goes and sits with her legs in the water in her lane of the pool to wait for the class to begin. There are four kids in her class, two other girls and a little boy. The two other little girls showed up soon after A Bird and they sat down on each side of her. They all start talking to each other and giggling. I am too far away to hear the conversation, but it was a cute scene. There are three little girls all dangling there feet into the water and gossiping and laughing at each other.

As I sat and watched them talking it really hit me how fast the past five years have gone and how much A Bird has grown up. My mind hit the fast forward button and I could see A Bird in middle school hanging out at the pool with her friends. Then it clicked through further and I imagined her in high school hanging out after school with her girlfriends lounging by the water. It made me immensely happy and incredibly sad at the same time. I am so happy that she is so outgoing and has such great social skills. She seems to build friendships wherever she goes. But I am sad at how fast time marches by, it seems like just yesterday I was sitting in the hospital room holding her for the first time but now she is coming up on five years old and is doing so many things independently.

Finally class starts and the kids jump in the water and it breaks my concentration on what will be. She swims for a half an hour and class ends. She climbs out of the pool and heads to me to dry her off. We walk to the changing rooms and get the last room. I dry her off and she gets dressed as she tells me all of the things she learned from Miss Barb in the pool. Finally dressed we head out and she hits me up for a “snack” from the vending machine. It’s funny because she knows I am the sucker that will let her have something from the junk machine. When it’s both L Bird and I she never stops to ask for a snack, but if it’s just A Bird and I she hits me up every time. I let her pick some starbursts but tell her she can only have three tonight. Another father on his way out stops at the machine after me and gives me a knowing smile and a nod.

We get out to the car and get buckled in, A Bird has picked out her three starbursts and proceeds to “peel” (take the wrappers off) them. We pull out and she asks me to turn down the radio, we have a short conversation about when she grows up she is going to be a country music singer and a dancer then a song comes on by Carrie Underwood and she breaks into song midsentence. So I turn up the radio for her and she sings while I drive. The night was perfect.

My advice to everyone is to take pleasure in the small things in life, like swim lessons, fifteen minute conversations with your children, or just the quiet times together with those you love. Try not to get so caught up in the details and tasks of everyday life. Make time to do things with those you love. Time marches on for us all, and it does so at an alarming pace if you’re not paying attention. Good luck and I’ll keep trying to do the same.

St. Patty’s Day Re-cap

So last few years L Bird and I haven’t really done anything on St. Patrick’s Day, but this year we decided to do it up big with a local pub crawl. Our friend “Luci” basically strong armed the Knights of Columbus into sponsoring a pub crawl. Once that was set, L Bird found bright green sweatshirts that said “Official St. Patrick’s Day Drinking Team” and everyone in our little group bought one and ironed on letters with our nicknames on the back. Let’s just say L Bird was a little iron on letter challenged. They weren’t the best iron on letters anyway but L Bird has little in the way of patience so she had a few missing spots in her letters, but a big bottle of white-out took care of that problem.

Yesterday we drove into town and hooked up with the rest of our group, Captain Insano, Luci, Twin, Stick Bug, and Kielbasa at the K of C. The pub crawl started at 3 o’clock so we spent the first few beers at the K of C, then the canon fired to announce the start of the crawl and we were off. Our first stop was Eddie O’Briens. The place was packed, but we managed to fight our way to the bar. L Bird was too short to force her way in for drinks so we jammed Stick Bug/Skinny Bitch (her other nickname) into the bar and told her to order Labatt Blue Light, she orders the drinks and turns around and hands us green Bud Light bottles. Gross. But there is no such thing as bad beer, only better beer, so we drank them down. Then the Captain pulled a typical Captain move, he cuts a green balloon a chair and spent what felt like 20 minutes tying his perfect boy scout knot around L Bird’s wrist. So we are drinking and Kielbasa takes the balloon off L Bird’s wrist and hooks it onto his ear. In the matter of seconds the balloon comes off Kielbasa’s ear and starts to float away in the restaurant, Captain jumps to catch the balloon and falls into a high top table and completely levels it. Condiments go flying, the table tips over, the chairs scatter everywhere, but he “saved” the balloon. Making sure the balloon was secured the Captain picks up everything and puts it all back together and we promptly leave.

We are a few more bars down, when we hit Trotta’s. Trotta’s is not as packed but still had a few pub crawlers in it. It was an older clientele so it was pretty low key, or so I thought. The bartender came around with a tray of jello shots, so we do a round of jello shots and a couple of beers. The song changes and the bartender turns it up and jumps up on the bar and starts dancing. Then the next thing I knew a bunch of people were on the bar and the bartender was trying to coax L Bird up onto the bar. For whatever reason she wouldn’t get up there until the Captain said he would get up with her. It was awesome!

 

After the dancing we hit another round of free jello shots, then I stepped into the men’s room to break the seal. Tell me what’s wrong with this picture:

Yep, someone misspelled “Employees”. Nice.

Next we hit Pinky’s Bar where we had another highlight. A bagpiper walked in had a drink and played a couple of songs.

After that we finished our beers and made the rounds through Beef N Brew then back to the K of C for dinner. We ate dinner, then made our way down to the Sideshow for the rest of the night. The Captain and I played pool and mellowed out talking to a few hippies we were playing pool with. The final highlight of the night when the Captain completely wigged out this poor bastard. This kid comes walking through the bar wearing a bright green sash that says “Kiss Me, I’m Irish”. I look at the kid and then at the Captain and I say nice and loud “Hey Captain, he’s Irish and you should kiss him” The Captain starts toward the kid with his lips puckered up and the get rips of the sash and shout “No, No I’m Jewish I’m Jewish” while running from the Captain. I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.

L Bird and I finally called it a night and headed home around 1:30 AM. Overall, it was a great St. Patrick’s Day with a lot of friends and a lot of fun. I’m already looking forward to next year!

Weekend Bonding

If I had to come up with a theme for this past weekend, it would have to be something to do with bonding. There was a good deal of bonding, some manly bonding over junk houses and firearms, and then there was some marital bonding as L Bird and I celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary.

Saturday morning I packed up a couple dozen eggs and went in to Cpt. Insano’s house as we were going to look at a possible house he wanted to buy. So after some dicking around and waiting on the realtor we finally show up to this house. Now, they are only asking 14K for it, so I knew it was going to be rough, but how rough was the question. We walked up the driveway and entered through the back, and were greeted by a dead mouse. Yeah that’s a good sign! So looking through the house, there were obvious signs of neglect and damage, but there were good signs of work that had been started but hadn’t been finished for one reason or another. The plumbing in the basement looked all new, it was a mix of copper, PVC & PEX. It looks like someone had started putting in a new electrical service and both the electric and water meters were brand new shiny meters. It needed a new roof, as there were a few leaks and water damage in the upstairs. Overall, for only $14K it could have been a lot worse. We headed back outside and chatted with the realtor and found out that the guy who owns it owns several other properties, bought this one for $40K and just ran out of time and patience to put into it so he left it to rot. Now he was just looking to unload it and be done with it. Hearing that perked up the Cpt.’s ears, so now he is contemplating a cash offer for less than $14k to buy it and fix it up as one of his rentals. If he does buy it, there will be a lot more bonding as we gut it and rehab it.

Later that afternoon, L Bird, A Bird and I met with my Dad to drop off A Bird. L Bird and I had dinner reservations at Rheinblick German Restaurant for our anniversary so A Bird had a dinner and movie date with her Papa while we were out. He took A Bird to dinner at her favorite restaurant, McDonald’s, then on to see Dr. Seuss’s The Lorax in 3D, so she was pretty happy. L Bird and I continued on to our dinner which was fantastic. We both got a different schnitzel, L Bird had a nice glass of Riesling and I had 32 ounces of cold, deliciously dark goodness called beer. It was nice to be able to sit and have a conversation without being interrupted by A Bird or the dogs. We had good conversation, talked with one of the waitresses we know, and just had a good time. We left the restaurant completely stuffed and happy.

Sunday the weather was perfect. It was sunny and about 65 degrees with just a light breeze. In the morning I got a text from my brother asking me if I wanted to me him at my Grandfather’s to do some shooting. He knows that I just bought a new gun and had been itching to shoot it, so we set it up for noon. I packed up my gun, extra clips and ammo and headed over. When I got there my brother, my step-father and grandfather were ready to head down back to shoot. My family is a family of gun nuts enthusiasts, the standard saying is “It isn’t a Darling get together without some shooting.”. So the four of us walked out back to the range, my Grandfather owns a lot of land behind the house and the majority of it is woods. There is a nice clearing with a huge clay bank that they have been using as a backstop to sight in rifles, shotguns, and handguns since the 1930’s. If they ever dug that bank out I couldn’t imagine how many tons of lead that they would pull out. We placed our targets up on the bank, loaded up and started firing. Everyone shot every gun that was there. I put the first 50 rounds through my Glock 19, then shot my brother’s Ruger Mark 2 .22 caliber pistol, then finished off with my brother’s Ithaca lever-action .22 rifle. Once all of the ammo was gone, we headed back up to the house to find out my Grandmother had ordered pizza for us for lunch and it was on its way. So we had a nice lunch discussing guns and house hunting.

After lunch, I headed home and took A Bird up to my Mom’s for dinner while L Bird ran a meatloaf down to her Grandfather.

Overall this weekend was a great weekend. I got to spend a lot of time with the people that mean the most to me. Looking forward to next weekend, it looks like it is going to be another fun filled weekend with friends and family.

Life is good.

Self Image, It's a bitch!

Self image is a bitch. It can make you strong or crumble you like dust in the wind. Everybody struggles with these issues I know, but man when they hit me they just seem to suck the life out of me. For the most part, I am a head strong, confident (bordering on cocky at some times), and firm in my views of myself and the world. I know who I am and what I am and I’ve come to terms with that a long time ago.


This is how it is most days, but every once in awhile insecurity creeps in and washes over me like a wave pounding the reef. I try to stand tall against it but my mind just keeps coming and coming until I am so worn down I can’t stand anymore and the wave crushes me underwater against the reef squeezing the air from my lungs. It’s these times that make me feel incredibly unsure about everything in my life. I lose all confidence and I turn into this shell of myself that questions everything. I read into everything way too much and decide that this is all happening because of something I did or something I didn’t do. I feel like all of the bad things I have ever done in my life will be exposed to the world and the world will see me for the pathetic scumbag I really am. I get anxiety attacks and am terrified that people will see that I am just not that good and just cut ties with me. I am terrified of losing my two birds, L Bird and A Bird. I am terrified that work will find out that I am a sham, that I am not as intelligent as they think I am and I’ll be out on my ass with no means to provide for my family. I am afraid that I will lose everything and spiral down into a broken down, no hope drunk that people pass by in the gutter.

Because my nature is to plan for everything, I try to cut off my perceived downward spiral by asking questions of those around me that I am insecure about. This normally backfires on me, be they get irritated by my questioning when to them it has nothing to do with me and they can’t see why it bothers me so much. But that doesn’t stop me, because I just keep pushing and pushing because I HAVE to know what it is I am doing to cause the situation so I can fix it, so I don’t lose everything. Then it comes to the point where I get angry. I get angry at myself for being so weak and insecure, I get angry that I just can’t let things drop and leave them be. Then my anger for myself spills out onto the ones I love and have been pestering with questions. Guilt. Afterwards I immediately feel guilty for getting angry and guilty that I just couldn’t believe them when they told me it wasn’t me. I try to make up for it, by telling them how much I love them and how thankful I am to have them in my life. But by then I feel like the little kid who offers up his football to the bigger kids just so he can be included.

Like I said, self image is a bitch, but I always seem to turn it around. I quiet the negative voices by letting my cocky, arrogant self to show through like a bright light in my mind. I puff myself up and tell myself that I will not let this world beat me. I will be strong, I will make my mark on this world. The things I have done wrong in the past are not what defines who I am today. I can’t change the past, I can only do what I can in this moment to be the best version of myself possible and build a better future. It works to quiet the negativity in my head to a tiny, almost inaudible sound that lurks in the back of my mind. Once I am back to center, I dial back my cockiness and arrogance and just try to be me.

I just try to be Naps. A good husband to L Bird, a good father to A Bird, a good person for my family, a true friend to the few friends I have, a good employee for my boss, a man who is confident in the world around him.

Well, I have rambled on long enough. Do any of you struggle with things like this? Or am I just coming unwrapped and I need to be medicated?

Guns, Needles, & Jugs…. Crazy!

It has been a crazy busy week full of guns, acupuncture needles, and old jugs and not the kind you find on old ladies.

Around the end of last year I got my pistol permit. I wanted to get a pistol for the personal and home protection. So after a few trips to numerous gun shops, I finally settled in on a Glock 19 Gen III 9 mm. But before I loaded it and headed off to the range I knew that I wanted to have some training first. That led me to a two night basic handgun safety and training course that Seneca Guns Sports was putting on in Watkins Glen. So Monday and Tuesday I drove all the way down to Watkins Glen for the class from 6-9 pm.

The class was actually a really good class with tons of hands on training and heavy on safety. The best part of the class was the guy who was putting it on brought in 20-25 guns ranging from palm sized .22 derringers to full sized 9 mms to a 50 cal revolver with a leupold scope that he uses “to hunt deer”. He had numerous revolvers and semi-automatic pistols. He laid them all out on the table and everybody came up to the table and picked a gun then went through everything from loading and unloading to take downs of each gun. So I handled a ton of guns for about an hour. It was awesome!

So the gun course killed two days of the week, and it was on to round 2. A friend from work mentioned that she was having acupuncture to help her quit smoking. I told her I had seen stuff at the fertility center about an acupuncturist that did it for male infertility and I had thought about it. She said that the acupuncturist that she sees also does treatment for male infertility and was local. So I sucked it up and called and made an appointment. I am not sold on the whole “eastern medicine” scene, but hell anything is worth a shot right.

After the initial interview process the acupuncturist says she can give me a treatment regime to try and treat my fertility issues and asks if I am ready to start. I agree and she leads me back to the room with the table. I hop up on the table not knowing what  to expect, and she tells me that I can leave my clothes on just roll up my jeans to just above the knee and pull up my shirt to expose my belly. Ok cool I can handle this. Then she starts with the needles, which are actually pretty painless. I get stuck with 25 the first time. She puts one in the top of my head, about 6 around my ankles and arches of my feet, two in each knee and the the rest below my navel. I was not ready for that part, I figured that she would just stick them in my abdomen, well she did but it was just the lower lower abdomen. I folding my boxers down low and proceeded to start popping needles from just below my belly button to about an inch above the base of my junk. It didn’t hurt but it was a little more personal/close to my stuff than I had imagined and I think it moved a little. I don’t know if it was supposed too but it did.

So she gets all of the needles in, turns on the good old pan flute music and tells me to relax and she would be back in 15 minutes. No problem, I lay back and relax. It was pretty peaceful. She comes back and removes all of the needles and flips me onto my stomach and repeats the process on my back with about 10 needles. Relax for another 10 minutes and bang I’m done. I go back this Friday for session 2. So we’ll see how this goes, I am hoping it helps.

Thursday and Friday go pretty well and the came Saturday. Auction day. Captain Insano and I normally hit the auction at least once a month, sometimes more. The auction was glorious in its funk and Margaret the auctioneer was pulling out all the stops. We ended up sitting next Pickle Barrel, there is a reason we call him Pickle Barrel but that’s a whole other story. So the auction is going and Pickle Barrel turns out to be a chatty kathy. He is just a mile a minute about CAT diesel equipment and banty rooster cookie jars. Yeah, he’s an interesting fella. In between these bits of conversation, I managed to win a nice set of jugs. Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Sure they were a little mismatched in size but even different sized jugs are still a great thing to have.

So what do you do when you have a great set of jugs??

Start a jug band!!! Yep, there we are practicing around midnight after getting back from the auction.

So that’s it folks, its been a crazy week and tomorrow starts a new one. So let’s go….

Him and Her...

It was a hot summer day in August of 1999. He had just finished up a two month summer internship to fulfill the final requirements of his degree. With no prospects for job interviews he went back to the grocery store deli that he had worked at through his college career. With the internship over he was hoping to make his way back on the schedule to plod along until something in his field presented itself.


He made his way into the store and was standing at the end of the case making casual conversation with Jill, a fellow employee, when he first spotted her. She must have been hired while he was away, because he had never seen her before. She was short, with short light brown hair, pretty face, beautiful deep brown eyes and curves that filled out her uniform in all of the right places. She was busy preparing a platter of a pasta salad, so he leaned into Jill and asked who she was. Jill said that her name was Lauren, she was indeed new and then called her down to introduce them.

As Lauren made her way down the case, she stopped just short of them to put the platter she had been working on into the case. As she leaned over the case he snuck another quick peek at her curves. Because she was so short she really had to lean over the counter to place the platter down, and in the process she dipped her shirt into a platter of baked beans that were directly behind the platter she had just placed in. As she stood up, she looked up and said “Aw hell, I just stuck my tits in the baked beans!” The first words he had heard her speak had been a shock to him, it was definitely not what he had expected. It had caught had caught him off-guard but allowed him to be able to tease her and tell her that she couldn’t say “tits” because she was a girl. There was some more banter back and forth and then she went back to work. Jill just looked at him with a knowing smile.

That was it, that was all it took, one conversation and he was hooked. Every week when the new work schedule would come out, he would pore over it to find out what days he would be working with her. On those days he would find any excuse to be close to her and to talk with her. He tried hard to make her smile and laugh. Her laugh was infectious and he couldn’t help smiling and laughing himself. Over the course of a couple of weeks they had developed a connection and she invited him to a party at her apartment. She said that she lived with two male roommates and they were having a party. He said that he would think about it and let her know. Then through the course of the day, he found out that one of her male “roommates” was actually her boyfriend. That news put a whole new twist on things for him. He twisted and turned that thought over and over in his head trying to figure out what to do. Should he back off or should he keep pursuing in hopes she would leave her boyfriend?

Eventually, the cockiness of youth won out and he knew what he had to do. He waited until she took her lunch break, then he took a quick break to go in and sit with her. As he sat there with her he said “I know you have a boyfriend, but I’ll lay the game down flat for you. Within two weeks you’ll be dating me.” She gave him her best not a chance face and told him so too, but as she said it he could already tell he was winning by the sparkle in her eyes and the faintest hint of a smirk on her lips.

The next two weeks he kept up his pursuit as he had been. One night he waited for her to get done with her shift in the parking lot. He was sitting on the tailgate of his pickup truck with his hat on backwards and Biggie Smalls on the radio when she came out. When she walked out and he saw her smile, he knew he had won. She agreed to dump her boyfriend and start dating him.

By the end of the week, she was moving her stuff in with him. She obviously couldn’t stay with her now ex-boyfriend as just roommates, and with no other place to go his place was the only choice. It wasn't an ideal way to start a relationship, but it worked.

It has been twelve and a half years since that initial day standing at the deli counter trying not to stare as she cleaned up the baked beans, but they are still together and going strong.

Some things are just meant to be, like baked beans and tits!!!

Disappointed…

Sometimes it feels like life is just looking for an opportunity to kick you in the ol’ beanbags. Lucky for life, but unfortunately for me I provide life the opportunity to roshambo me every month. This month it just seems to have hurt a little bit more.

I have been taking my hormone drugs to try and boost my count for about three weeks now and I have been diligent in taking them and all of my other vitamins and supplements. I have cut way back on my beer consumption and have actually worked out more than a few times. All in hopes of getting my count up. We are not supposed to even attempt another IUI until I have been on the drugs for six weeks, but in the meantime we can try to monitor when ovulation happens and try on our own.

So this month has been a very good month for giving it the old college try. Let’s just say that I had a very vivid dream that led to a purchase for L Bird in the lingerie department and we put said purchase to very good use.

From there we went on about our business trying not to get caught in the perpetual thought process of infertility. “Maybe this could be the month?” Yeah maybe, but let’s not say anything about it, we don’t want to jinx it. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut and forget about it and it will happen.” That is the conversation I have with myself a few times daily as well as endlessly praying to God that this is the month.

This month I thought maybe we did get lucky. Today was day 36 for L Bird and no lady visitor yet. L Bird has longer cycles before but this month is a little out of the ordinary. She has been dieting all month, but it isn’t like she is starving herself, she is eating, just eating less. So maybe that has what has thrown everything off, so we finally decided we should by a pregnancy test today and see if we did get blessed again. WRONG, a big old negativo slap in the face, AGAIN!!

But on the other hand Aunt Flo and Uncle Red haven’t stopped by for a visit yet, so maybe I’ll hold onto a sliver of hope that her cycle is just extremely long this month and she is pregnant but because of the length of the cycle the test was still negative. Yeah, that’s what I’ll hope for. Who knows, maybe by some chance I’ll be right. Here’s to HOPE!

The Choices We Make...

Have you ever sat down and looked the choices you have made and how they have shaped your life to this point? Then as you go over everything in your head, you think to yourself “How could I have been so stupid/careless/reckless? If one thing went the other way I could have been hurt, locked up, or worse, dead.” I’m embarrassed when I look at how many times I flipped the coin with my life and tempted fate.

What really got me thinking about this was an article I read on CNN.com. Basically, an off duty cop was helping his father at the family deli when someone parked in the deli’s lot and went across the street. Apparently the street is very busy and the lot was specifically marked for deli customers only, so the father goes out to ask the guy to move his car, the guy refuses, things get hot and escalate to a scuffle which escalates to the guy pulling bat on the father. The son who is the cop sees this pulls a gun and shoots and kills the guy with the bat. He goes to trial, the shooting wasn’t justified so he is sentenced to 29 years to life. He serves a few years and another judge overturns his conviction and he is released. He gets a job, finds a girl, gets married and tries to start over only to have a higher court overrule his overturned conviction eighteen months later and send him back to jail. I obviously wasn’t there and I don’t know all of the facts so I can’t pass judgment, but what struck me was that if it wasn’t for that one choice he would still be a free man and the whole thing never would have happened.

The whole thing just made me very thankful that all of cards fell my way, when by rights they shouldn’t have. One wrong choice could have changed everything and I never would have met L Bird and never had A Bird. So here’s to making good choices…

A Bird The Snowbunny

I know that this is probably a little hard to believe, but yesterday afternoon was the first time A Bird has gone outside and played in the snow. I know, crazy right? We tried a few times when she was younger to take her outside, but she didn't like the cold and the snow blew in her face so she would cry and want to go back into the house.

Then came the battle of the boots. A Bird absolutely flat ot refused to wear snow boots. We would put them on and she would throw a huge hissy fit until she kicked them off. Well I guess it wasn't just the boots, it was a winter hat and mittens too. She would just take them off as quick as you could get them on.

So then finally this winter comes and she is actually excited about playing in the snow. She wants to do it, she just can't wait, and then what happens? No snow. This winter has been one of the mildest winters of my life. In a normal year we would be buried with snow from November to the end of March, this year we didn't get anything more significant than a dusting until January 13th when we only got about 4-6 inches.

So this past Sunday afternoon we bundled up into snowpants, boots, hat, mittens and winter coats and made the best of it. We couldn't stay out long because it was single digits, but A Bird thoroughly enjoyed herself.

Who knows, maybe if it keeps up like this we may tackle sledding next.

Taking off my tin foil hat...

So it’s safe to take off my foil hat now, I’m not being invaded by brain reading aliens but I’ll get back to that in a minute. Let’s just say yesterday was a little crazy. I started working out and eating better (healthier, I think) this week, so I’m a little sore and a little irritable but still moving along just fine. I’m still working on being happier, but I think I have come a long ways from where I was and I wasn’t letting my muscle fatigue and food (beer) cravings get to me. Then yesterday hit.


I get home from work yesterday and I hear a real high pitch whining in the dining room. I do a quick preliminary search and I can only hear it in the dining room. It sounded like when a hearing aid has feedback and you get that annoying screech that is just barely enough in the audible range to drive you bat crap crazy. After not finding anything I figured maybe it was just my ears ringing and went on about my business. When L Bird got home I asked her if she heard it and both her and A Bird agreed that they could hear it too, so it wasn’t just me and I wasn’t going crazy.

So now I’m going crazy trying to find this sound. Both L Bird and I are trying to listen and getting irritated with each other and everything else because neither one of us can find it because while we are trying to be quiet to listen A Bird is talking or the dogs are walking through the kitchen and you can hear their nails on the wood floor, or Orange Cat is right under your feet with the scummiest of scum cat meows that just grates at you. Finally, I gave up and started calling everyone I knew for ideas of what to check. I checked with my dad who had me unplug and shut everything off as well as flipping the breaker for the dining room, I checked with Capt. Insano who told me that I should wear a tin foil hat just to be safe, because, “you know, you don’t want aliens reading your thoughts.” Then he was a little more helpful and suggested flipping the Main breaker to rule out the electricity. I talked to my Stepfather and Grandfather and they suggested flipping the main as well as checking the water main coming into the house as maybe it could be a high pressure pinhole water leak. When none of these things worked and the ringing was still there my Grandfather appeared to join Capt. Insano’s camp and asked if I could see any little green men hiding in the trees outside.

Finally, frustrated and defeated we went to bed. L Bird gets up to use the bathroom shortly before I get up for work and comes back into the bedroom huffing about the noise is still there and its driving her nuts as I am trying to enjoy the last 4 minutes of my 9 minute snooze button. So I’m a little huffy myself when I get up for my shower. I take my shower and am on my way back through the dining room and the noise is louder. So I stop and start looking for it again, if anyone could have seen me I would have looked like a mental patient. Here is a bald, fat guy in nothing but a bath towel standing chairs, getting on his hands and knees and crawling under the dining room table, just looking mentally unstable as he is hunting this “phantom” noise. I was just about to give up when I start going through things on the table, I picked up my camera, nope that’s not it. But wait, when I moved the camera the sound got louder, I’m getting closer. I turn into a five year old on Christmas. I am whipping through things on the table like a mad man. A Bird’s craft supplies go, then her coloring books and then finally victory.

I moved a couple of magazines and there under them was a small game that A Bird’s daycare had given to her. It was small enough to be concealed by a magazine with no visible bump, but loud enough to drive me nuts. I was so overjoyed that before I took out the batteries I took it into the bedroom and woke L Bird up to listen to it to show her I found it. I muffled it under some clothes as I got dressed then went out found a screwdriver and as gently as possible at that moment removed its batteries. Sweet relief!

So like I said in the beginning I can take off my foil hat now, but I may just keep my eye out for little green men in the trees.

Friday Follow-ups

After our appointment earlier this week at the fertility center, I was referred back to my urologist. As soon as we got out of the fertility center I jumped on the phone to the urology office. I got extremely lucky because there was a cancellation, so I was able to get in yesterday. If I hadn’t taken that appointment I would have had to wait until the middle of February.

The urology office is an interesting experience in itself. You walk in and check in with the receptionist who hands you a sterile cup. You have to run into the bathroom and give a urine sample, then come back out and wait in the waiting room until you are called into the exam room, Then depending on what the issue is, you may or may not have to drop you pants. Luckily yesterday I was able to keep my pants up.

The urologist came in and we discussed my situation. Because my counts had dropped so drastically and I had success with hormone therapy previously she suggested that we repeat the hormone therapy with a higher dose to see if my counts will come up again. Starting Monday, I have to pick up a prescription that will elevate my testosterone levels to stimulate my FSH levels to produce more sperm and increase my counts.

Now when I went through this treatment course the first time I was in the swing of P90X. So I was working out like crazy, and eating healthier. I wasn’t drinking beer or coke and was basically living off of water and a high protein diet. I think those factors also helped with my counts going up. Then after the first few months of  that I fell out of working out because of some life events happening, and my counts went down. I don’t think that the decrease is directly tied to the decrease in quality diet and exercise because the effects of the hormone therapy only last 3 to 6 months, but I definitely think it didn’t help the situation.

So this weekend is my weekend of relaxation. I am going to smoke a cigar or two, have a few beers and relax. I’m going to eat what I want and just forget about the world for awhile. Then on Monday it is back to the grindstone, I am kick starting my high protein diet and working out again. An added bonus of testosterone therapy is the muscle growth from working out, so that’s cool. I have to stick with this to give myself the best possible chance to get my count as high as possible and give us the best chance for our last IUI’s.

Wish me luck!!!

Friday Follow-ups

After our appointment earlier this week at the fertility center, I was referred back to my urologist. As soon as we got out of the fertility center I jumped on the phone to the urology office. I got extremely lucky because there was a cancellation, so I was able to get in yesterday. If I hadn’t taken that appointment I would have had to wait until the middle of February.

The urology office is an interesting experience in itself. You walk in and check in with the receptionist who hands you a sterile cup. You have to run into the bathroom and give a urine sample, then come back out and wait in the waiting room until you are called into the exam room, Then depending on what the issue is, you may or may not have to drop you pants. Luckily yesterday I was able to keep my pants up.

The urologist came in and we discussed my situation. Because my counts had dropped so drastically and I had success with hormone therapy previously she suggested that we repeat the hormone therapy with a higher dose to see if my counts will come up again. Starting Monday, I have to pick up a prescription that will elevate my testosterone levels to stimulate my FSH levels to produce more sperm and increase my counts.

Now when I went through this treatment course the first time I was in the swing of P90X. So I was working out like crazy, and eating healthier. I wasn’t drinking beer or coke and was basically living off of water and a high protein diet. I think those factors also helped with my counts going up. Then after the first few months of  that I fell out of working out because of some life events happening, and my counts went down. I don’t think that the decrease is directly tied to the decrease in quality diet and exercise because the effects of the hormone therapy only last 3 to 6 months, but I definitely think it didn’t help the situation.

So this weekend is my weekend of relaxation. I am going to smoke a cigar or two, have a few beers and relax. I’m going to eat what I want and just forget about the world for awhile. Then on Monday it is back to the grindstone, I am kick starting my high protein diet and working out again. An added bonus of testosterone therapy is the muscle growth from working out, so that’s cool. I have to stick with this to give myself the best possible chance to get my count as high as possible and give us the best chance for our last IUI’s.

Wish me luck!!!

Trips to the fertility center...

Trips to the fertility clinic are never fun. There is a lot of poking and prodding if you are a woman, and if you are a man there is a lot of awkwardness because everyone know what you are doing when you are giving your “sample”, plus the whole process is very clinical and sterile feeling. All of the couples are in different states as you sit there in the waiting room stealing glances at one another. Some couples are beaming and full of hope, because they just know that this is the cycle that is going to make it happen, while other couples are nervous about the whole procedure and fidget with their phones waiting for the doctors to call them in, then there are the couples like L Bird and I, the seasoned vets. They have been through numerous cycles and don’t have a lot to show for it, so some are very reserved, and some are just downright depressed as they walk out after an insemination with little to no hope of it actually working. L Bird and I are very fortunate that we did get lucky enough to have A Bird, so we are actually one up on quite a few couples, but it still doesn’t help to ease the want of having a second child and giving A Bird a sibling to face the world with.

This most recent trip to the fertility center was especially tough because I am at the center of why we are not getting pregnant. Now I am going to delve a little into a very personal area for me and you may not want all of the details or play by play, so if that’s the case stop reading here.

OK, now if you are still reading this, I am writing this because maybe something I write here will resonate with someone else struggling with male infertility and they will know that they are not alone. Some history to start, L Bird and I were referred to a fertility center around ‘05/’06 because we had been trying for over a year with no results. I got referred to a urologist who is great and happens to be a woman. It was a little odd having a female urologist, because she is poking, prodding, squeezing and holding you in a lot of areas that anyone other than your wife shouldn’t be touching but that’s a whole other post. She very quickly identified me as having a varicocele which was leading to low sperm count and low motility and set up surgery for me. I went through the surgery to repair it and then a few months of waiting to heal before having a semen analysis to see if my counts had improved. My counts went up, but I was still abnormal (shocker, right?) in having lower sperm counts but we were still good candidates for fertility treatments. L Bird and I dutifully went through the treatments with hormones that sent L Bird on an emotional roller coaster and both of our stress levels through the roof. We went through 4 cycles of our allotted 6 lifetime tries (my insurance only covered 6) like they were nothing and we weren’t getting any closer. At that time L Bird had just started a new job which wasn’t helping her stress level at all, so we decided to take a break for a couple of months until things were a little more settled. Then through God’s grace he blessed us that next month with a miracle, A Bird. She showed up without any other intervention other than God’s.

Fast forward to today, L Bird and I have been trying to have another child. Before we started really actively trying hard, I went to the urologist and requested a semen analysis to see where I was at. I have to say that I wasn’t entirely shocked to hear that my counts had dropped again. That was 9 months ago. Since then the urologist identified that I had low testosterone and a vitamin D deficiency, she started me on a three month hormone/vitamin regimen and my counts came way up to where I was close to the lower levels of normal. L Bird and I were ecstatic, and actually hopeful for our first few cycles.

Then reality set in. Every month my count has dropped, or I should say plummeted. It takes roughly 10 million sperm to saturate the path to the egg. Once you have 10 million healthy, motile sperm it is up to the egg to grant entry and thus fertilization. It doesn’t matter whether you have 10 million or 50 million the odds are the same because you are at saturation level. Then everything below 10 million lowers your percentages of fertilization and becoming pregnant.

The first two months everything looked good, but then everything went into the tank. L Bird and I went back to the fertility doctor because we are down to our last insurance covered IUI try. The doctor looked at my results and basically told us we had slim to no chance and we shouldn’t waste our last try. That really took the wind out of our sails and was really a punch in the gut to me. I feel incredibly guilty that it is my fault that we are not getting pregnant. It hurts in so many ways. It stings my pride, because any man can make a baby, right? Then I throw a pity party and rack it up to just something else to add to the list that is wrong with me. Or I start to think that I’m being punished by God for all of my sins, and that adds to my guilt. It is just a painful roller coaster for me as I deal with these things because no one really has the answers, and no one can give me a magic pill that will fix me and make me more fertile.

But there was light at the end of the tunnel, a dim, single bulb hanging and flickering in the wind, but still a light. He laid out two options, the first being go back to the urologist and see if she could get me to repeat my success with more hormone therapy or switch to IVF which is not covered by insurance and is roughly $12,000 per try. IVF isn’t in our budget at the moment, so I am heading back to the urologist to get her input and see if she thinks I am treatable. I am really hoping that she can repeat some treatment and help me again, if not our only other option is me banking my sperm at a cryogenic bank for a year or two and saving up the money (I know we could take out a loan, but I think that for me "financing" a baby is just wrong) for one round of IVF, which brings its own set of emotional struggles.

So that’s it. That’s where we are and why sometimes we aren’t so happy or nice to be around. But here’s to cherishing our time with our own little miracle, A Bird and praying to God for another one.