Isabella Arrives

Last week we had an addition to the family, my granddaughter Isabella was born on Tuesday July 29, 2010 at 11:26am. A whopping 20” long and weighed in at 7lbs. 4Oz ! Quite a feat considering that our Ellen is only 5' on a bad hair day and had to be 7 months plus to break into the third digit. It was an amazing day in all our lives, that I will remember for the rest of mine.

From the moment my daughter told me she was pregnant I knew it was Izzi, Ellen looked a little different this time, she looked excited and tired at the same time. I thought this was the first trimester drag at first but when I saw her open the refrigerator for the 5^th time in 10 minutes, rip open a bag of greener select and fill her face with baby arugula and several other assorted sprigs of green, she was having a girl. She lost her appetite immediately with Gavyn, we used to have to make her eat.

Ellen has always been a picky eater, she had a total repulsion toward cheese as a child, with actual goosebumps on her arms over the very though of eating it. Rolls were always a source of a giggle in our house because my daughter would snatch off half a roll, eat it and maybe an hour later come back and rip a second roll in half, leaving the original wounded soldier in the bag off to the side to be picked over and moved around until it was the only thing left except of course for the other halves of rolls Ellen had made. I'm sure its some sort of an OCD thing but as long as its just rolls and so far we haven't found any half cats or anything so I think its more of a quirk than a disorder...and god knows we all have quirks, I make a living off of mine!

Well anyway, back to lil' Izzi. She was scheduled to arrive on the June 29. Ellen had to have a C-section with Gavyn and was told that would be the plan this time as well. Chelsea slept over Ellen and Eric's to watch Gavyn and his puppy Maggie the next morning while they went and checked in at the hospital. Dotty and I headed over at 8:30am and met Eric's parents, Paul and Debbie, with Deb's sister Peggy in the lobby.

They were buzzing with nervous energy just like us but they had a little extra juice because of a confrontation with the “woman at the desk” just moments before. These two blonde cougars are used to getting their way, especially when they are side by side tilting their heads and showing a lot of straight white teeth. Their voices jump an octave in pitch as they speak one at a time with the second nodding and encouraging agreement. But the “woman at the desk” would have none of it, she was immune to their charms. She could care less, she had seen and heard it all. She would allow Deb to come up but Deb alone. No Peggy! But...! No Peggy....Grandmothers only....but....No!

Dot was fine with that because after all she was one of the grandmothers and was included in the holders of the golden ticket that got you through the wall of senior citizen volunteers lurking at every corner asking to see a pass, we need to put these people to work in the airports, nobody gets by, nobody, no pass no entry!

I saw a young guy about 17 trying to get in and was denied entry after about 5 minutes he told them he needed to use the mensroom which was on the other side of the gate in the no man's land land between the desk and the elevators. He walked around the corner and right past the mensroom door he was making a break for the elevator, in my heart I hoped he made it...but the suppressed silence of the lobby was interrupted by the crackle of walkies-talkie static, “we got a runner” and within seconds liver spotted people appeared from everywhere. They stepped out from behind huge potted plants, one from under the dinner tray cart and some from doors that weren't there a moment before, wearing sunglasses over their regular glasses and talking into their wrists. “We have him secured”

While all the commotion was going on, Paul and I approached the “woman at the desk” “we're the grandfathers can we go up?” “Are you part of the support team?” she asked. We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, nodded and turned back to the “woman at the desk” and replied with as much confidence as we could muster “Yes?” She twisted her lips and lowered her eyebrows, “ I highly doubt that” “Have a seat I'll let you know when you can go up” she answered. “but we're the Pop pops!” both of us doing our most charming looks, trying to send out as much mojo as humanly possible. “have a seat” she was unmovable.

At about 12:10 they finally gave us the signal, a smile and a nod was delivered from across the room to the group that had convened in the lobby. By now it had grown to 9 people. Paul and I, Chelsea, and Gavyn, my Mom and Dad, my sister Dawn and Maddie, Peggy, Eric's brother Nick and his girl Abby. We charged the desk like they were giving away ipods. Everyone's hands extended out waiting to feel the illusive plastic jacket of that winning lottery ticket, they key to the inner sanctum, the most holy of holys...the pass to the 4^th floor...maternity.

They gave us all passes! Every single one of us! We were in now, we were part of an exclusive club, we were maternity visitors! Baby celebrators! Free rein of the hospital, they wanted people to see us. We were good press, positive emotions in an otherwise dreary place. I could have sat in on a surgery if I wanted this was cool.

Baby Isabella was here, just upstairs and down a hallway my little granddaughter was waiting to meet me, it was the longest elevator ride of my life and when the doors opened that 8 foot section of hallway stretched away from me like something from a Stanley Kubrick film. We got to see Ellen first which is the way I wanted it, to make sure my baby was okay before I greeted the new woman in my life.

Ellen was beaming and radiant, exhausted and beautiful. I was so proud and in awe of this woman, I really can't express it fully through words. She was being seen by her doctor who was complimenting the tone of her body and how well she will heal because of her being in such great shape. She bought a treadmill the day after she was told she was pregnant and did several miles a day. She reached out her arms and I kissed her a dozen times all over her face. I couldn't hold back my gush of emotion as tears of joy and relief streamed down my face. My baby was good, better than good, she was great.

My little one wouldn't be in my arms until hours later when I had returned from eating lunch at the Colonial Diner with my Mom and Dad, Chelsea and Dot. The nurse had brought her in the room. I waited my turn, patient, excited she was here and would be for good. Finally after Dot had her for a few minutes she was passed to me. I held her in my one hand, this tiny person in my care. I had grown that day, I had to, if not I would have burst open, I was that happy! She was beautiful! She was here...

Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&bID=536913980#ixzz0tDvc3sYi

Empty Nesting

Empty nesting...its a term I've heard about....seldom thought about....until now.

Three weeks ago Jimmy, Shea and Tony rented a place in Deptford. Meaning Shea and Tony were moving out of the house. For about two weeks before the move everyone was busy, running around trying to put together last minute details. Dotty and I went about our lives as if it really wasn't going to happen.

You see, Ellen moved out when she was 19. Same age as me when I left home. The boys took longer. Jimmy left for the navy when he was 21 and while we were in Punta Cana the year I made Invincible, 2005. The day before we left he dropped the bomb. Great way to start a vacation right? Well that actually turned out to be the best move my son ever made, he went away, saw the world and learned a lot of lessons. He came home a man. Still Jimmy. Just a more responsible, sensible Jimmy. Of course the week long party that went on while he was home alone and we were in the Dominican Republic was epic and will live forever as a fable of Pitman parties to end all Pitman parties as told by participants, spectators and police for generations to come.

But Shea, well lets just say, Shea was in no hurry to move out and Dotty was quite fine with that. Me, deep down never wanted any of them to leave but, all little birds must leave the nest and spread their wings, fly little bird...fly...Its a Dad's thankless job to push you along, get you on your way. Something I would rather not have done but had to.

I would drop subtle hints and wise-cracks about moving every time we would have a small incidental disagreement. He would be like, “I don't think so, I would have done it this way” and on the rare but inevitable event he was I would reply, “Get an apartment” and walk away. I never, with any of them, told them to get out. I threatened it many times. Asked hypothetically what they would do, where they would go if I did, just to humble them up a bit, never really would though. Both Ellen and Jimmy did the “I'm running away” thing, which was really no more than an extended summer sleep over at a friends house where the parents were as unaware of it as we were. Both came home on the third day, hands on hips announcing how they had run away and nobody cared. “Oh, sorry, we knew you were at the Larson's, you ran away? What's sa'matter? Let's have a cheese-steak and talk about it!”

Well it happened anyway, the boys got the house after half a dozen “for sure” places fell through. So, the day came and went very non-ceremonially. Shea was at his second job delivering pizzas until 8pm so he really didn't show up until later that night. Tony, one of my wrestlers that stayed with us since high school whenever he was home from college, did most of the running with Jimmy stopping by to borrow our luggage to pack his clothes.

I told him I thought that was odd packing a suitcase to move, but Jimmy is a little odd. He's an anal slob. I didn't think that was possible until my son came along. He would arrange his dirty dishes in his room so they were all organized, not clean, not in the kitchen sink, but organized on his nightstand!! All the dirty spoons in a dirty glass inside a dirty coffee mug, inside four dirty bowls, sitting next to three quarter filled vitamin water bottles all lined up in a row, with two Gatorade bottles with dip spit neatly rowed up next to them.

I figured since Shea worked late he wasn't getting much done that night. He came by grabbed his toothbrush and some toiletries Dotty insisted on him taking and he gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug as I was reclined asleep in my chair. I had passed out about a half an hour before he got there around 11pm. Dotty was a mess, but recovered quickly, at least she put up that front. I assumed he would come by on Sunday and finish up, that was three weeks ago!

Empty Nesting my ass!! Nothing about my nest is empty! All his stuff is still here! He came by in the middle of the night while were sleeping and took his box spring and mattress. We found this out by walking through what looked like snow all over my staircase leaded down from the bedrooms to the living-room. “What the....????” I looked up and saw a well defined Nike swoop of missing popcorn on the ceiling were the box-spring had negotiated the turn in the stairs.

I had no coffee in me yet and couldn't seem to muster an emotion. I half smiled as I envisioned the scene of Shea and Tony trying to get the bed out without waking us up. The two of them doing the screaming whisper, you know where you yell at somebody but it comes out as angry wisps and rasps, you can hear the heat in the escaping air. I'm sure my son saw it scrape the ceiling, he probably made a face, groaned, maybe even cursed, didn't clean it up, but stared at it for a while shaking his head followed by a shoulder shrug and an about face.

After filling my cup, I ventured upstairs to view what I thought would be a quiet father moment, me in my slippers and pj's, sipping a cup of joe, looking at an empty room. Thinking of my eyes welling up as I saw the fresh, unfaded blocks on the walls where posters and framed jerseys had hung for the better part of two decades. After a long paused moment I turned the knob to enter the vast void that was my boys' room.

Well, I tried to enter, I pushed and the door opened a foot, no more. I saw a four foot pile of clothes directly to the right of the door. My eyebrows lowered as I leaned my shoulder into the door. It took some effort to get it open to the point I could squeeze my butt past the jam. The room was wall to wall!!

The bed frame sat naked in the middle of the floor no box spring, no mattress. The barren place that should have been inside the frame was filled with assorted articles of clothing, dirty dishes, a shoe box (very suspect of shoe boxes!! mainly 'cause I have one myself!!), a half of a soft pretzel, no longer soft, more like a monument to a pretzel, granite in texture. There was a stain that was in the shape of Elvis' Head or Jesus, depending on the angle of your view It was on the only bare spot left in the room, so it was impossible to identify the rugs true hue.

The room had actually lost its identity, when you think of a room you imagine four walls in a square or rectangular fashion, at least that's what I believe every little baby room aspires to grow up to be, this poor room had a pile of clothes stacked three or more feet high in all four corners, giving it the illusion of being in the middle of a large bowl.

I looked to my left and right quickly scanning the room for any signs of Chewy, Luke or Hans cause it felt like I was inside a giant refuse container. I thought I saw Princess Leia but it turned out to be a half inflated blow up doll, I think that would have been something I took on my first trip, but hey that's me.

I stood in as close to the middle of the room as I could get and did a 360. Medals and posters still nailed to the walls. Some had duct tape holding them on, sound black electrical tape. They had finishing nails, framing nails, roofing nails and a few 3” drywall screws holding up an assortment of stuff never meant to hang on a wall, like Jimmy's new aluminum bat he broke hitting a triple off of Chris Rose in a senior league game back in 8th grade and a wooden plaque with the picture removed leaving a blank clear plastic sleeve.

A Mexican blanket nailed up over a structured hole in the wall I put there to sink their chest so it wouldn't take up as much room but, because I left the sides open to the eves it scared them so they pulled the chest out of the wall and covered it, big babies!!

I saw a few things I just couldn't identify, I felt it better not to investigate, I was still just halfway through my first cup and wasn't sure how my morning stomach would hold up if I saw something intolerable.

The doorless closet, where the doors went I haven't a clue, they were just...gone, was packed solid with folded clothes stacked up from the floor to the stuff hanging, a virtual wall of clothes. When did he get all these clothes? Did he ever throw anything away? What made that stain? How long had it been since I was in here? The questions swirled in my head simultaneously, like having five of me all yelling at the same time, the chaos of the room was consuming me, pulling me into the abyss of clutter. I shook it off and came out of my mid-morning stupor. I looked around again and felt as though I had woken up in the middle of an episode of “Hoarders”. The roof could have collapsed and it wouldn't budge over this room, supported by pillars of denim and polyester.

I saw the neck of a guitar poking out from behind some sweatshirts and attempted to free it from its snare of hoodies. I pulled it away to expose what looked like soot stained flame mark coming from a melted outlet!! What the????? I shook my head as I made the sign of the cross and looked up to heaven, “thanks for being here that night Big Guy!!” I humbly whispered.

As I turned to leave I saw three baskets of dirty clothes that had splashes of pink, purple and yellow strew throughout. It just didn't fit. I decided to take a closer look and as I crouched down to take a peer with my squinting unassisted eyes I saw a bra and several thongs all balled up in the top basket. Chelsea had cleaned out her room and filled the vacant space that was the boys room with her laundry!! The boys weren't gone 24 hours and she had begun to move in, dirty clothes first!

I carried down from the room to the kitchen 14 spoons!! Yep 14!! Since they left we now have two slots worth of spoons in the silver drawer! An assortment of mugs and glasses along with the lone remaining plate we have from a set we got as a wedding gift. Dot was happy to see it still around.

I finished my coffee and pulled out the milk which without the boys around had soured; for first time ever we had milk go bad before it was gone.

I called my son. “Hey Boy!! What's your bedroom look like?”
“You'd be proud of me Dad, clean and tidy, not even any dirty clothes on the floor!” he beamed.
“That's cause its all still here!!"
Second cup.....