From Father's Day through the rest of 2012

True made me breakfast burritos for Father's Day this morning. I appreciate the utilitarian simplicity of the breakfast burrito. The way she makes them for me, they resemble a portable omelette. Scrambled eggs, shredded cheese and sausage are cooked together in a frying pan before being placed on a tortilla, covered in salsa and bundled for consumption. A fork is not required to eat the breakfast burrito, if it is wrapped correctly, and the plate is not left nearly as greasy as it would be if egg and sausage were to touch it directly, making clean-up much quicker.

I don't recall what I did for True when Mother's Day rolled around, but I suspect that it involved taking her out to eat. I'm sure she'd let me know if I forgot to do anything entirely (I doubt I did - at least I hope that's the case), but I'm positive I didn't personally cook anything for her. I'm of the opinion that once she reaches school age or not very long thereafter, we should make Madeline do stuff for us for these "parental holidays." I mean, the names themselves - Mother's Day and Father's Day - imply by virtue of the relationships terminology used that the child or children should be giving thanks for their continued care and that they haven't driven their parents to imitate certain reptiles that are reputed to eat their young.

In any case, this Friday at work I was asked, "are you a dad?" I thought it an odd question, as I'd assumed that all of the gossip vines about the "new guy" at work had transmitted whatever pertinent information my co-workers needed within the past two months I had been employed at my new workplace. Apparently such was not the case.

"Yes," I said quizzically, "why...?"

"Happy father's day," came a cheerful exclamation.

Oh, of course, I thought to myself. Despite having an 18 month old in my care and custody with another one two months from coming down the chute, I am still unaccustomed to being referred to as a father or a dad or any plethora of other terms used to refer to a male parent. I know it's technically true and I don't reject it, but it's still so…new.

Not to mention terrifying. There is really no metric for judging how well one is parenting outside of whether or not one is a child abuser - a failing proposition if one is, just to be clear. For those of us not administering disfiguring beatings and other tortures more suited to be performed by soldiers upon "enemy combatants," the question remains, "how do I know I'm doing a good job?" Is there some calculable ratio of resentment I should inure in stopping the child from doing all of the idiot things I wanted to (and sometimes did) do at the same age? I've come to believe (or perhaps delude myself into thinking) that I have a pretty good command or dealing with one kidlet. But now there's another one coming - it's a moment of "oh shit" to realize that you and the other parental unit will now be evenly matched with your spawn - at least insofar as the basic number of bodies in residence goes. It is my opinion that anyone willfully breeding more than two children total are certifiable.

In any case, 90% of the time Madeline is a joy to deal with. She has her moments, but otherwise is more intellectually curious than attempting to go out of her way to be a troublemaker. I can only hope that this trend lasts with her - at least until she is of age to move out of the house - and that her little sibling follows a similar pattern.

I have doubts about said sibling, because he or she is already showing signs of impertinence. True has been given multiple ultrasounds and despite the frequency with which we've been able to take in a viewing of fetus theatre, we have not been able to find out whether this baby is male or female. Each and every time the ultrasound technician has tried to look, the only feedback we get is "the baby has its legs squeezed together" or "the baby just turned around so it's obscured." I don't like surprises and if nothing else, I wanted confirmation that True wasn't gestating some androgynous being (one never knows when one's partner may have been abducted by aliens without one's knowledge). We've finally accepted that we may not know before the big day and have chosen both feminine and masculine names to keep both contingencies covered, as well as writing up a birth plan with the proper "if XX, then" and "if XY, then" procedures.

Since True's due date is in mid-August, I've cleared my calendar for the entirety of that month. Suffice it to say that August is off-limits for me - or anyone wanting me for anything not associated with the family unit. Beyond August...

I am constantly warring with time - and while I can claim victory in a few battles here and there, I suspect that time is ultimately winning. During my time unemployed, I was able to do a whole lot more musically while still giving time to Madeline and job-hunting. When my initial six months of unemployment compensation ran out, I started getting nervous as it seemed that no one was hiring. Thankfully, at the time extended benefits were available, but even so, that money wasn't covering everything and that which I had from cashing out my retirement account wasn't going to last forever.

That particular hurdle has been cleared as I am now working for a paycheque again. Technically I am a contractor, which isn't exactly the more desirable of places to be, however it is better than nothing - and given the changes in Pennsylvania's laws and the way the unemployment rate is tabulated, nothing is what I would be getting otherwise. Still, I stipulated to the agency through which I was hired that I only wanted "temp to hire" positions, which means that the agency takes a slice of my paycheque for a period of time before the company they contracted me to is allowed to hire me on directly. This is actually how I got my previous job: a temp assignment turned into a permanent position (well, permanent until the layoff train began rolling).

Losing my job was a set-back, to be sure. While I'm closer to where I was before financially, it's still an uphill climb. I've been entertaining the thought of using either Kickstarter or Indiegogo to start a fund drive so I can build a new computer. Not that there is a good time for a computer to show signs or aging as well as a desire to succumb to the ravages of age, but my old Windows XP box has decided that it wants to keep me on my toes. Slowly but surely it has been losing reliability and there are constant reminders that it can be upgraded no further beyond that which I've already installed into it. I've been able to continue recording, but I'm not certain how much longer I can continue tempting fate.

I've yet to actually start the campaign, namely because I'm still mulling over what perks I could (or should) offer people for various donation levels. Among the things I could do for higher donation levels: offering my audio engineering services for a set amount of time, DJing an event the donor wishes to put on, or performing live at the donor's house. I'm open to other suggestions, if anybody has some.

So, while I'm slightly less nervous about money, I'm not so comfortable to the degree where I can't be nervous about my computer potentially giving up the ghost on me, thus stalling what - against the odds - has been a fairly good production run for the past couple of months. Against my paranoia, I've been able to balance domestically with my independent musicality. Naturally, thus has come with some twists: if she hears me practicing for what she considers too long, Madeline wants to join me in my practise space. At that point, I am required to finish with the original music and play a cover of whatever her current favourite song is (at present "The Luckiest Guy on the Lower East Side" by The Magnetic Fields - and as the gods are my witness, I will perfect that high note at the coda). After I play her favourite song, she insists that it is her turn to sit at the keyboard and compose whatever symphony is playing inside of her head, begging to be birthed via her fingers. Naturally, I oblige...at least until it's time to put her to bed.

I suspect that she is going to want to attend a lot of concerts throughout her life and maybe even put on some of her own; I'm okay with that. One set of concerts she won't be attending are the ones I'm hoping to do in October. Nothing is set in stone, but True has given me her blessing to go driving around New England in the Fall as I have done in years past while she stays home with the babies. Let's face it: travelling with children is difficult and it is unreasonable to expect that you can be in a new town from one day to the next without inviting an excess of misery upon your tiny passengers who have little idea as to what is going on (as well as yourself as the protests of said tiny passengers increase in decibel level with each passing mile).

And there they are - my goals for the remainder of the year:

• Watch second child get born (or at least be within arm's reach when it happens)
• Continue being good (or adequate) as a "family man"
• Continue recording
  • Buy new computer
• Play some shows in October

I'm feeling strangely optimistic - probably because I've stayed up too late again.