I tend to live in future tense. Which means that I am often stumbling forward in the present. I am rarely shocked or surprised when I make it to my destination but I am often battered by the trip.

I was drawing & writing out my sons favorite nursery rhyme, “the itsy bitsy spider. I have often commented to folks that you never need buy ANY affirmation book or bump any uplifting song if you really sit with what’s going on in this parable.

The itsy bitsy spider goes up the water spout
Down came 0the rain that washed the spider out
Out came the sun that dries up all the rain
And the itsy bitsy spider climbs up the spout again.

Success is seasonal. You plant what you want to grow and hope the weather is favorable.

This year I had plans. Big plans.
(The itsy bitsy spider goes up the water spout)

I was getting so much done. Then in mid march, a rain storm literally changed my life.
(Down came the rain that washed the spider out)

In the midst of the resulting chaos, possibilities have presented themselves to me in way I could have never imagined. But I have spent so much time fighting to do things the way I had originally planned and not giving in to the way things are going, that there were times I forgot to enjoy what’s actually happening. The weather is not what I expected but it has changed & it is favorable.
(Out came the sun that dries up all the rain)

And now it’s about work: hard work, smart work, baby work, love work, me work. There is only one universal language & that’s action. I’m here. I’m working. I will let you know what I’ve been working on in a later episode.

The itsy bitsy spider climbs up the spout again.

I live in a great area. My neighborhood is neither suburb or hood. Both are in walking distance but it’s neither. I like to say its “hood adjacent”
– the 7/11 is in walking distance the whole foods is a bit of a drive. But it’s near a lot of trees and in the late night it smells like sleep away camp.

So I’m pushing through the more Hoodalishious section of my surrounding area.

It is the unfortunate custom amongst men that we tend to greet each other quite defensively. head jerks & grunts. I tend to be a very happy person and this has always been hard for me for 2 reasons. #1 people look at happy smiling people strange where ever you go, that is not unique to the hood. #2 I look like a 9 year old boy. This is part of the reason I grew a beard, to look more intimidating. It never works no one is ever scared to approach me ever. As a matter of fact if there is a crazy person in an enclosed public space be it a bus or an art gallery they ALWAYS find me and talk to me.

So I am walking my son beaming happy to have some me time and listen to some music while I exercise: win win win.

Then I see this dude sitting on the steps of his apartment ICE GRILLING I mean he has the look. the don’t F with me don’t ask me nothing look. At the top of this year and on my march to 40 I told myself that I will stop being closeted with my joy. Be you in public and in private. People might not know how to be happy in public cause they have never seen it done. Wear your smile like jewelry and every one will want one. So that in mind and my old programming in place all I managed to get out was “hello” and a bit of a smile. Immediately I felt like a dork. His face didn’t even acknowledge my presence it was like trying to destroy a mountain by throwing a rubber ball at it. What was even worse was I said “HELLO” not “hi” or “wus up” but “hello.” Who the hell says the whole word “hello” as a greeting? I’m pretty sure CDs that teach you English don’t even recommend you say “hello.”

But soon after that feeling hit I was hit with the assurance that I was me in that moment and that all was right with the world. I don’t care how it looked or sounded i’m here, i’m happy, get used to it.

Then a beautiful thing happened just as he got to the very end of my peripheral vision. It was almost like he planned it for that moment. He turned to me and said “we need more fathers like you.” I turned around thinking perhaps he said “we feed on fathers like you,” and asked him to repeat what he said. Again he said, this time with a big grin “we need more fathers like you.” I smiled back and said thanks and he said “thank you.” then he plopped back in to his seat and his face slowly went back to ice grill.

I walked off feeling great I turned off my music for the rest of the walk still kind of feeling dorky about having said the word “hello.”

Since last I did this blog on being a father we have had another child. Needless to say with a growing business and a new life I have had little time to dedicate to writing about all new challenges a 2nd child presents. But as things start to reach a predictable rhythm I will be able to share with you many new stories and many old ones I never got a chance to post. I dedicate this to all the lovers, the parents, the folks who have no kids who don’t understand their friends who do & finally for those who don’t see all that goes on behind the scenes of parenthood in the new millennium.
-pierre bennu

this is the fourth clip of media chronicling my kid’s obsession with music. previous episodes featured video of his learning to use turntables and figuring out how to scratch and use the mixer.

this bathtime audio clip was my attempt to catch him in his daily, non-equipment-reliant musical expression. enjoy!

click here to listen

** i am constantly impressed by how BUSY the baby is – always moving, working, exploring. reaching, running, babbling. but he never seems to produce any actual results, so i decided to observe and not intervene with his busy baby routine for five minutes to see if i could figure out his patterns. perhaps harness his baby power for some greater good. solving climate change? powering a karaoke machine? here are my results.**

he picks up an empty plate from the side table, which had been cleared of crackers and cherry tomatoes from an earlier snack. he brings the empty plate over to the bed, carrying it with two hands, and places it carefully down. goes back to the side table, picking up a clean diaper from the stack. he walks back to the bed and puts the diaper on the plate. scrutinizes it for a moment. opens the diaper carefully, spreading it out on the plate. frowns. flings the diaper onto the floor behind him. tells the plate, “NO!” in no uncertain terms. picks up the plate. slowly brings it up to his face, kisses the plate carefully. puts it back onto the bed.

he turns around and approaches the discarded diaper, it’s still clean, still open, still on the floor. he crouches down into that fabulous baby squat we all love, and examines it minutely. gets up and walks away.

walks around the bed. i can’t see exactly what he’s doing but he’s near the mirror on the other side of the bed. i see pointing, and perhaps some mild scolding of the reflection. comes back with his little whisk broom, waving it in the air like a drum major. drops it near the diaper.

goes into the hallway, using the old film festival pass that’s hanging on the doorknob to close the door behind him. it doesn’t catch, and swings open again partially; i can see him crouching in the hallway playing with the pass’ lanyard. he comes back in.

opens the drawer of the side table. takes out half of a cherry tomato he’s apparently had stashed there since his last snack. (!!) takes a nibble. examines it. takes a nibble. puts it back into the drawer. (note to self: once intervention mode is reinstated, MOVE THAT TOMATO!) pulls out a few socks, flinging them onto the floor behind him. finds the one he must have been looking for, turns around and puts it onto the plate that’s still on the bed. turns his back to the plate, finally satisfied. picks up his sippy cup and takes a sip of water. shakes the sippy cup back & forth in one hand, the other hand flapping back and forth too, for balance. he takes another drink, puts the cup back onto the table. turns back toward the bed and removes the sock from the plate. throws it onto the floor.

yeah. so my five minutes are up… i’ll keep searching for the answer to global warming later. right now i have some socks to pick up.

Be still. Perspective through momentary discomfort can save you from prolonging the inevitable.

I present to you THE TAO OF O – reflections and little wisdoms gained during my son’s first year of life.

- S******g on your self is not the end of the world
- there are things outside of our understanding and it’s sometimes better that you don’t get what you want
- pennies are delicious
- don’t fight sleep
- you can forego learning to walk properly in order to run but be prepared to fall A LOT
- music and dancing can stop you from crying
- if someone tries to change you pee on them
- you can get away with so much more with a smile
- dance naked
- pulling other people down is not a nice way to try to get up
- your actions are your words
- all things break
- there are advantages to being small
- clearing your mind can be as simple as shaking your head back and forth as fast as you can
- it’s amazing how many times a day unseen hands help us avoid death
- grow up

A friend and I were riding to the post office with about 5 bags filled to the brim with packages to mail off as was the ritual at the end of every day we work at the warehouse. We were stopped by a light and at the corner in the open space between the gas station and the curb were 2 children with bikes. My eyes would have not caught them had it not been for how small one of the children was. They both had dirt bikes but the smaller child seemed dwarfed – somehow he was riding the bike but could barley reach the handle bars. His hand couldn’t even wrap around the handle. It would be the equivalent of an adult trying to put their hand around a half spun roll of toilet tissue.

Me and my friend in the passenger seat smirked at how silly it all seemed, this child’s dedication to being out and on this bike that clearly he was too small for just seemed funny.
Then coming across the street were 2 women. One was holding a child the other was just stomping mad, her anger clearly pointed at the smaller of the 2 children.  Somewhere in the back of our minds we thought that universal childhood theme:  “oooh hes gonna get it”

As she approached the child quickly dismounted the bike and let it fall. His friend kept a safe distance. Then the mother, while screaming inches away from his face, balled up her fist and with everything she could muster punched him in the face.

I’ll say that again. A grown woman with a closed fist reached back as far as she could while yelling at the top of her lungs and punched this barley 4 foot tall child in the face, several times.

The look of horror on the child’s face is something that will never leave me. I have never seen a child’s face do that. He wouldn’t
stop looking up at her and he didn’t really defend himself… he just held his quivering fists together  under his chin as looked up to her.
He managed to pick his bike up but was still being yelled at and hit with a barrage of closed and open hands across his head neck and back as they walked off and disappeared into the collection of short brick buildings

Here are the thoughts that went though my mind

We make each other
Do I roll down the window and say something ?
Do I get out of the car follow them to where they live and…what?
Will me getting out the car do anything?
Are you ready to take on the responsibility of that child’s welfare after today?
Who is this child doing to be when he grows up?
What made him come outside? He knew his mom?
Stupid question, if she was my mom I’d probably be outside
Who am I to tell a parent?
Wait…I am I parent.
Perhaps she was concerned for his safety?
Perhaps she was terrified he had run away or was lost?
How does that concern turn into this?
It takes a village is he not my responsibility?
Am I a coward?
Do I think too much ?
Why won’t this light change?
Will that child grow up to hate women?
Will he beat his girlfriend or his own child one day?
Was his mother beat by those who love her?
How will this child define love?
How does this mother define love?
Patriarchal society sucks.
Society is not punching that kid in the face, she is.
How can you hit another human being especially one easily half your size that hard in the face?
How was he still standing after that?
If she was comfortable displaying that level of brutality in broad day light at the corner of a large intersection what does he get when he gets home?
Does Barack Obama’s victory make that little boy believe he can do anything?
Does his mother believe that he can do anything?
Will he overcome this to be a story of hope?
Why is this light not changing?
Why did I have to see this ?
Why can’t I turn away?
Why can’t I move?
Why can’t I cry?
Inaction is action.
And then there was a honk behind us. The light had changed. We drove off and dropped the packages at the post office but we were both pretty silent for the rest of the trip.
I still think about it every day.
I still feel like less of a man for not having done anything.
I feel like that inaction will have ripple effect that I can only hope to counter balance with the way I raise my son.
And that’s it.
No moral, no bit of wisdom to walk with, just something that I felt somehow had something to do with being a father. Something that hurt me to hold onto… so I had to share.

Love is a verb that has several definitions. Sometimes that’s an unfortunate thing.

- pull away diapers :  a convenience once enjoyed only by  professional athletes. Now take off a diaper with just one yank!
- oral shoe horn: it’s hard to take the time to wash your hands when your child just ingested something potentially fatal. end the slobbery-finger syndrome by using this device instead.
- baby censorship visor: attach it to your computer or DVD player and enjoy your violent hollywood films with ease. whenever the bloody parts come on a visor comes down that shows images of elmo!
- organic diaper garden: this compostable diaper is made of all green materials with a layer or fertilizer and seeds in it. once soiled, plant it and within a week you will see fruits and vegetables start to grow. I’m still waiting for a call back from whole foods.
- edible spray: instead of taking things out of your child’s hands and mouth you just spray edible spray on it. it makes things like lint, paper, mouse poop, coins, marbles and old Doritos perfectly healthy and edible!
– the ‘time out’ dart: comes with one straw and twelve darts with a patented nonlethal and totally organic tranquilizer that will knock your baby out for half an hour. refreshing for both baby and parent! lavender scented.
- baby head ring toupee: for those babies that lose that ring of hair around their head. for the girls we have the “inch MO pony tail” it’s a tiny hair extension for parents to put in the hair clip so that there is at least an inch mo’ more hair popping out on top of the bow than being pulled by the bow
- the rotating changing table: for those babies that like to suddenly start to twist and crawl away when being changed. This table rotates with them like a gyroscope.
- baby clothing handle: it’s a  onesie with a harness that has a handle on the back. Easy retrieval for when they’re crawling someplace dangerous. Or, going for a walk and forgot the stroller? Carry your baby like a briefcase!
- nerf steps – why gate the top and bottom when you can replace the whole staircase with soft bouncy material? Turn potential tragedy into fun for the whole family!

we used what we had to explain to our 9 month old what was going on.  enjoy the photo essay.