Friday, January 30, 2009

Closing Deals

Some rare footage taken from the office of Sam Hanna.

**note his "administrative assistant" taking his calls and his tres relaxed Friday office attire

**please excuse the extreme close-up of my fab pedi in the foreground and the mess of a studio/office/toy/nonsense in the background.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009


Sam slept all night for the last two nights in a row. (yes, I realize I just jinxed ourselves :)

To most, if not all of you, this should sound like good news, right? And I couldn't agree more that there is nothing better to restore one's sanity or recharge one's depleted batteries than a good night's sleep.

But, on some level, I am missing sitting with Sam in the middle of the night. Sometimes, I think I benefit from holding and rocking him as much as he may benefit from being cradled after a bad dream or upset stomach.

In a day and age when every bit of news on CNN or NPR is bad news and every second of the work day is filled with pessimism and negativity, sometimes I just need to 'defrag'. In computer-speak, defragging your hard drive is something that should be done on occasion. It is a program that rearranges the physical layout of files on the hard drive so as to improve performance and overall efficiency. I like to think it also cleans the gunk out of the system. Sitting with the Sam in the middle of the night has the same effect on my brain.

I am not a super-hero, and there are many a 4:30 a.m. when looking at his black hole, saucer-like eyes staring back up at me refusing sleep is incredibly, viscerally painful. But after days filled with frustration and professional impotence, it is helpful to remind myself that the frustration I am feeling now is, too, transient, and that this point in history will mean about as much to Sam as the 1973 oil embargo means to me. Which is to say, not much.

In the meantime, sleep, Sil Sil Wil, and I will see you at 4:30.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Sweet Child of Mine

(A little Guns & Roses circa 1987 for your flashback pleasure.)

On an evening, after the day that I had today with the endless whining of my tiny person, I take a glimpse at a face like this and have a second glass of wine and remember that tomorrow will be filled (hopefully, dear God please) with more laughter and fun and slobbery baby kisses that leave my face completely drenched, than whining, crying and all around baby madness.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

A poem for my Hewie on our 3rd Anniversary....

Thank you for being a friend
Traveled down the road and back again
Your heart is true you're a pal and a confidant.

And if you threw a party
Invited everyone you ever knew
You would see the biggest gift would be from me
And the card attached would say thank you for being a friend.

I love you, Husband :)

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

"Happy Inauguration Day!"

More than a couple people have greeted me like this today, the barista at Starbucks, and even my Dentist and hygienist. All I'll say is, I never remember in all my (nearly) 30 years anyone ever greeting anyone like this on inauguration day. Maybe this is the first year I've taken notice of politics, maybe having Sam in our lives has made us think a little more forwardly than immediately. Maybe I just didn't know the proper inauguration day manners. So many questions....I speak best in pictures.

I give you, an inaugural morning in photos:

skinny vanilla inauguralatte

Sam called a few of his people together for an inaugural luncheon where he clapped when the crowd clapped (and then pulled off Mr. Potato Head's nose, I think maybe, just maybe, they were celebrating. not sayin'....just sayin')

George Washington on the banks of the Delaware

"I once felt all that kind of anger, which a man ought to feel, against the mean principles that are held...a noted one, who kept a tavern at Amboy, was standing at his door, with as pretty a child in his hand, about eight or nine years old, as I ever saw, and after speaking his mind as freely as he thought was prudent, finished with this unfatherly expression, 'Well! give me peace in my day.' Not a man lives on this continent but fully believes that a separation must sometime or other finally take place, and a generous parent should have said, 'If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace'; and this single reflection, well applied, is sufficient to awaken every man to duty..."

--George Washington on the banks of the Delaware

Sunday, January 18, 2009

from Orthodoxy

A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning,"Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them.

--from "Orthodoxy", G. K. Chesterton

Taking out the Trash

Usually, this is dad's job, but since Sam is pushing his push cart all by himself he wanted to walk the trash all the way to the compacter by himself (with a little help from mom). Fortunately, there was time to stop and check out the bushes.

He got tired on the way back and bummed a ride from mom!

Tuesday, January 13, 2009


It won't be long before Sam says real words, besides repeating syllables like "ma-ma" and "da-da." Real words like "I'm hungry," "I'm tired" and "I love you." I hope I won't easily forget, in the flood of new words, the quiet times where his sweet baby touch and expressions said everything.

I come from a family that is never shy of communication, I've never understood how people could come together and not communicate, just sit and be, I still don't. Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about words, I'm talking about the wordless moments, the sparks that are flying when the world is quiet. When nothing and everything is being said in silence. These moments are often, I'm learning, the best.

Communication is so intimate, warm and vital, like chocolate, I crave it, I think we all do.Babies start to communicate before they ever make a sound, they have to, and though subtle, I've learned to listen, watch and feel.

Late one night we sat in the small rocking chair in Sam's room. He woke up afraid or lonely or just startled from a dream, so I sat with him, blinking and blinking trying to not rock myself to sleep instead of the wide-eyed baby in my arms. Sam often rubs his satin bordered blanket on his cheek to sooth himself to sleep. A moment later I felt a cool satin corner of his blanket rubbing back and forth on my cheek while he lay wide awake staring at me in the dark.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Photobooth from the Tucson Mall

The booth was smaller than it looks...!

Being Dad

I have worn several hats and donned several robes. I have tried my hand at various crafts and pursuits. I have 'escaped' Alcatraz. I have run the 5 burroughs of New York City in a single morning. I have loved and continue to love. I wrote stories and drew pictures. I have saved a life. I have climbed a mountain. I have built a shopping center. I have been more successful in some ventures than in others, and each, in turn, has brought a sense of accomplishment and pride that varies by degrees. But I do not feel as accomplished or satisfied in any of these roles or in any of these pursuits as I do in the role of dad or in the pursuit of fatherhood.

I could have been, was or could still someday become an artist or writer or psychologist or restaurant manager. I choose to be a commercial real estate developer. For now. I swim, cycle and run. I like to rock climb and climb mountains and look down on people from great heights, but am stuck in the flattest place in the Western Hemisphere. I truly feel that I am a jack of all trades though master of none. I feel as though I was an 'okay' artist, am 'just an okay' writer, was 'just an okay' swimmer and triathlete and 'just an okay' runner, and I know with these twigs for arms I would be 'just an okay' rock climber, as well.

I won't go so far as to say that I feel I failed as a writer and failed in business. Though it feels like that somedays. That all being said, I think I am a pretty good at being 'Dad'. Not just a dad or any dad, but being Sam's Dad. I am not perfect. I don't really know what I'm doing most of the time. But I like it. After a frustrating day at the office (I very literally have not had a deal work in my favor in over 2 years...Deziel, no. Verizon, no. Goddard, no. Burger King, Wendy's, Taco Bell, Publix, no no no no. Anyone else would've thrown in the towel long ago. I must truly be a glutton for punishment), the only thing that keeps me going is being Hewie and Dad and knowing these people count on me. I just wish being Dad paid better so I could quit! :)

Anyone save room for Desert?

Here are a few photos from our trip to Tucson for New Years. LOVE the southwest, love it, love it, love it! Love for all towns, cities, babies (well maybe just Sam) and regions that start with "S"

paul & sam outside the Tucson MOMA

someone taught my son to do "touchdown" those of you who know my ahem love ahem for football, I would like to thank you, errr smack you! :)

the boys wait patiently while the girls shop for Indian jewelry at the mission

Paul, Celeste and Sam in the chapel at the Degrazia gallery.

a long journey home, and a makeshift airport bed

Please check out my photography blog for more photos from our trip.