Tag: angst

2 Under 2: Sleep training, the sequel (#073)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Looking back at the journey of raising #1, I would have to say that the hardest part would had to have been the teething.  When she started cutting teeth, and the pain and misery sat in, there was pretty much nothing that anyone could to do alleviate it, leading to a helpless failure of a feeling as parents that we can’t take the pain away, no matter how much we want to.

Although we haven’t gotten to the teething stage with #2 yet, I think it would be a safe bet in a few months that I’ll still be in agreement that the whole sleeping thing, is probably going to remain the worst thing about the growth of #2.

Since the literal very beginning, sleep has been a challenge from day one, where upon arrival, her circadian rhythm was all jacked up, where night was her peak awake time, and the daytime was when she would conk out.  Much like her mother, #2 has demonstrated being a light sleeper, that has had a hard time staying asleep once down, and as I’ve written about in the past, every single nap is like going to the shores of Normandy, they’re that much of aggravating battles.

It’s like putting her head down in her bassinet is like plugging a Game Genie directly into her, with infinite stamina codes programmed into them, because no matter how tired, groggy, or even asleep she is when being held or laying in a lap, the second she’s put in her bassinet, her energy bar fills right back up, she’s not only not sleeping, she’s on the fast track to screaming bloody murder.

One night, she literally screamed and cried for nearly two straight hours before mercifully seemingly tiring herself out to sleep, but of course she still woke up like 27 times in the middle of the night and required physical intervention in order to go back down for another 30 seconds before repeating itself again and again.

Another night, she would fuss and require pacification to fade back out, and no less than five minutes afterward, the process would start over again.  I’m fairly certain I got maybe an hour of sleep that night.

We’ve begun sleep training, which is basically to establish a routine that we’ll try to adhere to as carbon copy as possible every single night, with the hopes that she herself will begin to associate the routine with sleeping at a generally set time, and if all goes well, sleeping for more consistent stretches or windows, that can hopefully provide some chunks of downtime for mythical wife and I to feel like human beings again.  Because it’s for this reason alone that we don’t have any semblance of lives right now until she learns to get her shit together, and there are sometimes some days where I feel like I just can’t take it anymore, and in spite of my determination to not cave into the frustration, I just get owned. 

I’ve forgotten what normalcy feels like

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Occasionally, I’ll have a day where I’ve caught up with all of my daily chores, the kids are actually asleep, and with the whole, giving myself until 1 a.m. thing in play, I have a moment to sit there and feel like a human again.  But then I realize that I don’t really know what to do when I have like, 90 minutes to myself suddenly, and it’s occurred to me that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a normal person.

I’ve put my general life on hold until things chill out on the whole raising kids thing, but in doing so, I seem to have lost touch on what to do with free time, when I actually have it.  One of the first things that comes to mind is to possibly watch television or movies that have been queuing up as things I feel like I should watch, but with just 90 minutes if I’m lucky, I often tell myself that I don’t want to start something that I won’t have any real reliability to continue on with, so I kind of nix that idea.

Running, as much as I wish I could keep doing it like I used to, isn’t really an option, because it’s often times so late in the evening, that I don’t like the idea of pushing myself to do cardio at a stage of the day when energy levels are low, and I don’t want to elevate my heart rate before ultimately going to bed, because that seems counterproductive.  Plus, I don’t want to work up a massive sweat, and be forced to shower at like 1 a.m. because #2 is already a light enough sleeper as it is, and I don’t want to risk waking her, so running is off the table too.

I’ve basically forgotten how to surf the internet, and the vast majority of news and information that I get on a somewhat regular basis is often second-hand over social media, and if I’ve got a little bit more time, then I scroll through Apple News to see what might be showing up in the media.  All the sites I used to go to in the past, I really don’t anymore, because I don’t remember them off the top of my head, or they’re just black holes that I know I’ll get sucked into if I visit them again, so I opt not to.

There are worse things to eventually fall back onto, but at least I’m often times using these opportunities to catch up on writing, which indicates to me that even at the most base and subconscious levels, the act of writing is still that highly prioritized in my head to where it’s what I gravitate towards whenever I can.

But if it’s not writing, it’s usually some dumb bullshit like, finding a YouTube channel simply called Idiots In Cars, and then the rest kind of serves itself.  All the same, it’s going to be an odd transition when the day comes where both my kids are in bed and out by 8pm or sooner, and I might actually have some more hours to actually feel like a human being again.

2 Under 2: Sick and tired of being sick and tired (#072)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I’ll be the first to admit that it goes without saying that I’ve done a lot of complaining on my brog about the rigors and tribulations of fatherhood, twice over now.  That was never my intention, but that’s just the way things have panned out because parenting is really difficult, I knew it would be, but it still didn’t change the fact that things frustrated me, and I got stressed out and fried and all sort of defeated on a regular basis, especially since having a second.

More recently, I had a chat with myself, as I often do because despite the fact that I probably could benefit from formal therapy, I have never taken any steps to explore it, so I end up talking to myself a lot, mostly when I’m feeling frustrated and down in the dumps.  I’ve accepted the reality that over the last few months, I have been irritable and constantly upset, and I told myself just how sick and tired I was feeling of constantly being upset.  

So I rebut to myself, to simply stop.  Just stop being so upset.  Stop it.

That being said, over the last few days, I’ve constantly been trying to coach myself to not give into anger too much, and even if I do get pissed about something, to let it burn as quickly as possible, and talk myself back from the ledge about how much it sucks to be upset and to cool my jets.  

And as easy as it is to say to stop, it’s kind of helped quell my constant frustrations, and much like Peter Pan, I try to think happy thoughts alternatively, and enjoy little things about my kids and parenthood, because in the blink of an eye, this will all eventually be over when my kids grow up, and all I’ll have are memories of their baby years, and I want to counteract as much of the negative ones with as much positive ones as possible. 

Once I got my head out of my ass, I took a video clip of my oldest, walking around in the yard.  Watching her progress from a frail premature baby to this boundless energy toddler marching all over our property is something I want to remember always, and it’s thinking like this that reminds me of the importance to try and capture moments so that I’ll always remember them and be able to relive these days, especially when they’re far back in the past. 

Fuck you, AJC

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

The only thing I wanted to commemorate the Braves’ World Series victory was a copy of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution with some sort of front page cover of the Braves’ victory.  Unsurprising, so does just about every single fucking Braves fan in the Metro Atlanta area, or just people who want a slice of history.

But I guess it’s safe to say that misery loves company and that I am most definitely kept company, given the fact that the AJC printed a paltry 30,000 copies of a commemorative November 3rd edition.  Also unsurprising is that there are thousands of disappointed and upset fans who were unable to get one because there were only 30,000 copies of a fucking newspaper to a metropolitan area that has a population of nearly six million fucking people to which obviously not all of them are going to be Braves fans, but a whole fucking lot more than 30,000 are sure to be.

30,000 copies.  Only distributed at Krogers, Publixes, RaceTracs and QTs.  That probably means each location got like, 20 copies, to which they were obviously all sold out instantaneously by those who were lucky enough to be at the right fucking places at the right fucking time.  And me being handcuffed to a baby for 17 hours of every single day, I can’t even have the chance to even try to get one of these fucking surprisingly Jesus-rare newspaper editions.

Fuck you, AJC.  You’re not Nintendo withholding Switches.  You’re not Sony, artificially suppressing Piss5s.  You’re a fucking regional rag that somehow fucked up getting Willy Wonka’s golden ticket, by pulling this kind of bullshit stunt.  You could have printed 200,000 copies of this fucking paper, and they’d have almost all sold for $3 a pop, netting an absurd amount of revenue for a piece of shit publication that nobody would give two shits about on any other given day, but it just so happened to luck into the regional baseball lottery with the Braves winning a World Series.

Sure, they’re going to reprint a generous 70,000 more copies of it, but the cat is out of the bag now, and people now know the hot ticket these things are, and how many people want them.  And when that happens, if it already hasn’t, we’re going to have motherfuckers buying up multiples to try and flip them for profit, because the world is fucked up, everyone sucks, and I fucking hate everything right now.

I only had one goal, and it was a colossal failure and not for lack of trying.  In spite of my limited opportunities to leave the house, I still tried, failed, because the Publixes and Krogers I tried probably had like five copies.  Sure, there might be maybe 10 copies at each tomorrow, but I’m in the same boat of not going to have any chance to go check, and I probably won’t get them, and I’ll have to settle for the bullshit Friday edition or the Sunday reprint, that I’ll still get with hate and grudge in my soul.

The whole point of this was to get the paper on the fucking day after the World Series ended, and thanks to the AJC being a bunch of fucking fuck faces, dreams of traditionalists and Braves fans like me are all met with the same bullshit fate.

Fuck you, AJC.  I hate you more than COVID-19 right now, and I kind of hope that the Braves never win the World Series again, so that you’ll never have another opportunity to fuck up the golden ticket again.  Better yet, I retract my hopes that the Braves never win again, I hope they do win again, but when they do, the AJC is out of business and replaced by some publication that doesn’t fucking amount to toilet paper for the homeless.

Well that happiness didn’t last

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

The one thing I wanted to commemorate the Braves’ World Series victory was a copy of the November 3rd Atlanta Journal-Constitution, which I’m assuming would have the Braves’ victory on the cover.  I don’t want any hokey commemorative hats or shirts or a Dugout Mug, just a single copy of the local newspaper.

I asked my nanny to stop somewhere and pick one up, in lieu of coming on time, which she graciously did for me. However, it was the early edition that clearly started press last night while the game was in progress because it literally was a photo of Jorge Soler and text indicating that the Braves hoped to win one more game.  She didn’t know and neither did I, and I didn’t think the AJC was sophisticated enough to even do early editions.  So by no fault of anyone, mission was still not accomplished yet. 

I went out in the afternoon to a Walgreens hoping to accomplish three things: get my paper, drop off a UPS package, and pick up a prescription.  I accomplished none of them, and that’s when the wheels began falling off my day. 

This particular Walgreens is the worst on the planet.  It thrives solely on its optimal location, but the service and quality of the place is straight trash.  Prescriptions are never ready when you go there and they almost deliberately troll you to make you jump through hoops in order to procure.  Honestly, I’m past my wits end and I need to demand my wife stop sending shit there because I’m not going to go there anymore. 

So, the prescription I went to go pick up wasn’t ready.  Be like, 15 minutes.  By the way, I’m on the clock since #2’s going to wake up soon and my nanny’s going to leave.  Next

Oh, this Walgreens doesn’t collaborate with UPS. Only FedEx. Next

Oh, this Walgreens also doesn’t sell newspapers.  Fucking really?

So I go to the nearby grocery store in this 15 minute window to get a paper, and hope they have a UPS box or can accept outgoing mail.  Nope to UPS and all copies of the AJC are sold out. Next 

So I go to another grocery store, and they’re out too.  For as much as people always try and tell me print is dead, the demand for it today sure as fucking hell says it’s not.  At least there’s a nearby UPS store where I can finally drop off this fucking package I’ve been unable to drop off for the last 24 hours because UPS drop boxes appear to have vanished like voter suppression. Next

It’s been past 15 minutes, so I swing by Walgreens and mercifully, they have my prescription.  I’m on my way out and I make the call to last ditch try the gas station, since my nanny picked up her paper from one this morning.  I go inside and I see some guy wearing full Braves gear, and the cashier tells him sold out.  I storm out.

Now it’s time to get back home and relieve the nanny and put my handcuffs back on to baby duty. I will have no more opportunities to try and procure a copy of this paper today.  I am livid, I am dejected, I am just so drained, disappointed and hating the entire world at this moment. 

Going back to another topic, one of my biggest beefs is when people try and tell me print is a dying medium.  It definitely doesn’t get any respect from the working world, and it’s clear retailers aren’t bother supplying it, because on any other given day, copies of the AJC probably are thrown out.

But on days like today, when monumental things happen, there doesn’t appear to be anything people want more than a fucking physical piece of print, because something physical and tangible is the best fucking way to commemorate, fucking anything.

Fuck everyone who thinks print is dead. Fuck all the assholes who buy up multiple copies hoping to turn a profit.  And as far as I’m concerned, fuck the world right now because I just wanted one simple thing, and I can’t find it and I don’t have the time to look for it, and I’m probably going to miss out on something that really shouldn’t be this difficult to get my hands on. 

2 Under 2: No time like the present (#068)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

About a month ago, I wanted to write a post about how I was embarking on my paternity time for the second time, on account of the arrival of #2.  How I was looking forward to not having to worry about work for 12 weeks, and all sorts of ideas of ways I could be productive and get shit done with no work looming over me.

Well it’s been about a month since I’ve started my paternity leave, and unsurprisingly I have not accomplished nearly as much as I hoped I would prior to the start of it.

Who would have guessed that juggling two kids would consume so much of my capacity, even without having to worry about work?  Pff certainly not me.  In all fairness, our Disney trip consumed nearly two weeks of my leave, since it encapsulated a Tuesday through a Wednesday, and trying to accomplish anything before or catch up afterward just weren’t going to happen.

But going into my paternity leave, I made goals of accomplishing several tasks:

  • Refinance my home: rates are crazy low and with a second child in tow, refinancing my mortgage to try and bring down my monthly payment and free up some cash sounded like a tremendously good idea
  • Look for a new job: the cat is out of the bag by now, and most everyone knows I’m quite unhappy with my job, and would like to seek out a new one now
  • Explore the possibility of upgrading to a larger car: my car of two years and less than 15,000 miles is already too small for the size of my rapidly grown family, and I would like to capitalize on the potential of the also-hot used car market, and try to trade in my car for maximum value, so that I may upgrade to a larger vehicle
  • Yard work: there are some shrubs I want to get rid of, and some general cleanup I’d like to do around my driveway and walking paths, as well as reclaim some of the wild land in the field adjacent to my home, while the poison ivy is wilting and the snakes are going into hiding

So nothing too lofty, provided there’s a reasonable amount of time to do them, but therein lies the biggest problem – there’s just simply never any fucking time.

Continue reading “2 Under 2: No time like the present (#068)” →

2 Under 2: How can I lose myself when I’m already lost (#067)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

What I’ve been doing recently is that I have decided that between the time in which #2 goes to bed which I’m really hoping is closer to 11 pm and not 12 am, and no later than 1:00 am, that is declared me time.  Time in which I will not be job searching, not researching potential cars, and I will not be doing absolutely anything at all unless it is self-serving solely for me, which is to say that it’s become the only time in the world I’m granting myself to actually do some fucking writing.

The good news is that it is providing me some time to actually do some writing, even if it is coming at the cost of the sleep that I most certainly would benefit from getting more of as well.

However, the bad news is that so far, it’s often times the time in which I’m in not the best of head spaces when I finally sit down in my office and have two fucking seconds where I’m not handcuffed to a child or doing something that pertains to the kids.  But on the flip side, I frankly think my writing is sometimes better when there’s a little (or a lot of) anger behind it, because fewer truths come out than when raging on the keyboard.

One thing that was often suggested to me when I was becoming a new parent, was the importance of keeping hobbies and having time to unwind, so that you don’t lose yourself or your personal identity to being just a parent.

Thinking back to all the times I’ve heard or been told such a bullshit suggestion, I’m inclined to believe that these people either don’t have kids, or weren’t in similar circumstances in which I’m in, with two kids under the age of two, while both myself and mythical wife work full-time jobs and have no immediately available family or support system remotely close by to lend a helping hand, all while being in the middle of a fucking pandemic.

Needless to say, I’m not “losing myself,” because I’m already fucking long past the state lines of where my general life has been left behind and lost.  I have absolutely zero time for myself, every single day of the week, and the only reprieves I have are maybe an hour every weekday, where there’s a small overlap where the nanny reprieves me of duty from #1, and #2 is still sleeping, and then the late night time at the end of the day in which I should be catching up on sleep but instead I’m so pissed and resentful at my lack of personal time that I’m hate-staying up until 1:00 am.

Continue reading “2 Under 2: How can I lose myself when I’m already lost (#067)” →