Where did you get those wonderful toys?

Your Mom just came home with a whole bunch of toys for you! They were given to us by some friends of hers and let me tell you something:

They are a lot of fun.

Now, I don't want you to think we are going to steal your toys, but we had to try them out to see if they are good enough for you. You will be happy to know that we played with them for about a half an hour and have decided that they're perfect for you... though we were hoping you could explain to us what some of them do.

I also just felt you kick harder than you have ever kicked before. You better not be having any wild parties in there. All the toys are out here!

Stay tuned for Daphne's blog tomorrow!

Love you!

Dad.

This is your Grandpa Brian

Tomorrow is Grandpa Brian's birthday. In keeping with the tradition of each member of our family getting an introductory blog entry, I am going to tell you a little bit about this fine man*.

Again, we are lucky that Brian is a part of our family. It's different, though, than how we are lucky that Grandpa Neil is part of our family (see last post). Grandpa Neil and Grandma Kat are my biological parents...they are sort of designed to love us**. Brian, on the other hand, joined our family later and isn't necessarily designed to love us the way my blood relatives are.

We are lucky because he chose to love us.

Now some might say that Brian is a loving man and so his choosing to love isn't that big a deal. He openly finds that some commercials and football games move him to tears***. I say, though, that caring and loving are two different things.

A man might care about his new wife's grown children the same way I might care about your Mother's pet bird: I don't really LIKE him, but it came with the deal, so I might as well get used to it being around!

What's cool about Brian is that he doesn't just "put up" with Shanna and I; we are part of his family! When I drink all of his scotch, he loves to do it with me^. When Auntie Shanna married Uncle Christopher, he was the one who cried^^ while reading the letter from your Great-Grandmother. When my buddies from home call me "gay", he is the one who tells them that I am ..."less gay" than they claim.

When you realize that Brian has chosen to be part of this scotch-mooching, tear-inducing, and questionably-oriented family, you realize that...he should have been more careful because he's STUCK NOW!

We aren't letting him go.

Love,

Dad.



*I know, right? Your Mommy, Grandpa Neil, now Grandpa Brian and next week Grandma Daphne! So many birthdays in a row! Well, one thing you will learn about me quickly is that I am conceited enough to think my very words are good enough to be considered birthday presents! It's also cheaper than buying gifts so we can go VISIT all these cool people!

** The science on this is fuzzy. I am basing this on my experience with really testing my parents' patience and them NOT killing me.

*** Though, in fairness, I think we can all agree that the 2009 Grey Cup is enough to move ANY Saskatchewanian to tears. F*@king "too many men on the f*@king field." F*@k!

^ I'll bring a bottle when I visit. Seriously.

^^ Yeah. He cries a lot. It's cool, though...he drinks scotch.

This is your Grandpa Neil

This is your Grandpa Neil. He is a good Dad and I am lucky that he is mine.

To understand why I am so lucky, let me tell you some things about Dads in general. Most people don't tell their kids this because it's hard to understand without other information, but the bottom line is that Dads aren't like Moms. Moms actually have the babies (ask your Mom how) so they get pretty attached to them. Dads, on the other hand, aren't as physically attached to the babies so some Dads of some babies don't stick around for all the hard parts of having babies (RE: Pooping oneself, crying, etc). I know lots of people whose Dads avoided all that hard stuff.

But not my Dad.

I'm lucky because, to be totally honest, it was a hard job to be my Dad* and my Dad always was my Dad anyway. How was it hard? Well, again honestly, I wasn't always that nice to my Dad. I know it sounds silly...who wouldn't be nice to his Dad? Well I wasn't always that easy to like as a kid (Or teenager. Or young adult. Mostly teenager.) and he just went on loving me anyway.

There were the normal acts of disobedience. I would fight over my bedtime, wouldn't eat my peas, and wouldn't stop bugging your Auntie Shanna. I was also terrified that my parents would *gasp* TALK to me in public and obviously shunned them at every opportunity.

Beyond that, though, was a deeper level of difficulty. I never wanted to play catch, learn to skate, or help fix things when my Dad asked me to**. More than not being able to relate, it was like I didn't want to even try. Later, when my Dad and Mom lived separately, I would make a big deal of even going to visit...like I had something better to be doing (I didn't). Even when I finally lived with Dad, I was grouchy with him in the mornings*** and spent most of my time with my girlfriend.

How could any person, Dad or not, be cool with all of that? Sometimes he wasn't. Sometimes he had fun with egging me on. Sometimes he wanted to kill me. Sometimes, I can't believe he didn't!

Sometimes.

But here's why I'm lucky. He always asked me to play catch. He always asked me to go skating. He always told me corny jokes for a laugh. He always asked how I was doing in school. He always helped when I needed something. He always volunteered for school things. He always said good morning. He was always there...even when I wasn't. He still is.

Always.

Love,

Your Dad.

* It was hard to be my Mom, too...you can ask Grandma Kat about the Vaseline. Whoa.

** To this day, I'm shitty at baseball, hockey, and fixing things. Go figure.

*** I'm still no better in the mornings. Some things never change. Don't talk to me until after I have a shower, please.

Happy Birthday, Mommy!

I spend a lot of time on this blog making gentle jokes at your Mother's expense. But aside from having a particularly European regard for clothing and an adorable inability to spot dirty English idioms, your Mommy is the most special person in my world (other than you).

It's her birthday tomorrow and I wanted to show you, in all seriousness, why I love your Mother. I am starting with this illustration I did of her instead of a photo because I wanted you to see her the way I do.

Let me tell you what makes your Mom so special:

First - Do you see those eyes? Your Crazy Aunt Jillian calls them "soul eyes." When she looks at you, she actually looks at you. This is uncommon in our society and it's wonderfully disarming. The first time I looked at her (really looked at her), I couldn't stop.

Another reason for her distinct "specialness*" is that she knows you the instant she meets you. For her, it's as easy as looking someone in the eye. She may not always like or choose to acquaint with everyone, but she always knows why she does or doesn't. She is truly a people person in that she knows people and lets them be themselves...whatever they may be.

And lastly, but certainly not leastly** (hahaha), she is special because she is your Mom***. The whole of life is a bit of a lightening strike...miraculously unpredictable and unlikely to ever happen again the same way. That she and I have some together to have you is truly something that is so remarkably infinitesimal in its likelihood that it MUST be special, non?^ I mean...really...a beautiful Dutch graphic designer and Yoga enthusiast^^ finds love with a comic-book geek from the Canadian prairies? TOTALLY special, I would say!

At the end of the day, I don't know if I know a luckier baby than you. Why? Because you are the only one who has your Mom for a Mom. And that, baby, is no joke.

Love,

Dad.

* No. That's not a real word. I have a license for making up my own words. You can apply for one after grade 12.

** Again, not a real word. You gotta get one of these licenses.

*** I'm sure you could have seen that one coming, but that's because when someone writes a blog about ME, the title will be (Scott...predictable except when he's NOT).

^ All of THOSE words are real ones. You can only GET a license to make your own words if you show that you can use all of the ones that already exist. Still worth the time, though.

^^ Proof to my homies in S to the Katchewan that I am, in fact, not gay (though they love to tell me so).

A note on needs

Well my girl (or boy...but probably girl), the big day is coming up! I'm sorry I haven't left a blog in about a week, but we have been doing some stuff around the house and at work to get ready for your arrival.

And that's just it. You see, your arrival is going to be action-packed with all sorts of strangeness and I just wanted you to know that we are doing everything we can to make sure that it's as painless as possible for you. We all get born and, by the looks of things, it's not the most comfortable experience for anyone involved. But once you are out and about, then there are going to be some changes.

"Changes?" you ask. "What changes will there be?"

First is the whole breathing thing. After your first breath or air, you'll be hooked! You'll have to do it constantly or you will pass out. This will be abrupt to start with but once you get the hang of it, you won't want to stop! Don't worry...we'll be there to make sure that you get into the swing of things.

Next will be all the room you have. Right now, your accommodations are necessarily tiny. Though warm and sustaining, it's a bit cramped. Out here in the world, we will keep you warm with furry blankets and cute booties made for you by a variety of people. You will also have all sorts of fun places to sleep and poop (which is mostly what you'll be doing to start with), so enjoy it while you can. They stop letting you sleep and poop willy-nilly, wherever you like, in very short order!

Finally will be food. You will have to work a bit harder to get food than you do right now but don't worry - there will be lots of it around for you. You won't be able to really TELL us when you are hungry, but you are already equipped with all sorts of loud sounds to get our attention (another thing that breathing helps you do!)

Now I know you can't read this right now and that, by the time you do, you will certainly not need to know any of this. I want you to know, however, that as we will never stop trying to take care of your every need.

We won't always be as capable of doing that as we are now. Your needs are simple right now, but they won't always be. I just want you to know that, even when it gets harder and we have trouble understanding what you need, we won't want to help you any less.

In the meantime, we will have lots of fun showing you all the cool things there are to do out here. Trust me...there's way more than breathing, eating and pooping! :)

Love you.

Dad.

I just wanted you to know...

I smile every time I think of you.

Love,

Dad