2021 in pictures

 

Ready, set...

I'm sitting in a chair in a hospital room, next to my sleeping wife. It snowed sometime between when we arrived at 1 AM and now, at 9 AM, so there is a light frosting on the rooftops outside the window. 

The contractions are here, but still moderate. 

Maybe another eight hours. Maybe sixteen.

My parents are back at our house, anxiously awaiting my texts. Samantha and Ethan are surely still asleep.

We were talking last night at our early Christmas dinner about when my family moved to Colorado when I was in sixth grade. My dad started a truck and trailer dealership, and my brother and I worked there during the summers. Two of the employees that I remember passed away long ago. I asked my dad about a third. Dead too.

When we were in the waiting room late last night, I told Jo that life is so fleeting. It keeps moving forward. You have to keep moving forward, too, because there's no backwards and no pause.

It was not a sad thought. 

Life is what we make of it, and what it makes of us. 

Dear Universe: We're having a baby

That's right. You might want to write that down, because I know you're 14 billion years old and probably starting to forget some things.

I'll repeat it for you.

We're. Having. A. Baby.

When I was younger I envisioned that you were my enemy--you were the God of the Old Testament, or the people who believed in such things, or social conformity generally, or any kind of authority generally. 

"Only the Good Die Young." "I Fight Authority, Authority Always Wins." "Running Against the Wind."

I liked to say that the goal of life isn't to win, it's to get in one good punch.

I'm not as hostile to you as I once was. Whatever remnants were left ended at fatherhood. 

I still believe it's noble to run against the wind. But you can't just be against things forever. Eventually you have to be for something. Otherwise you're just an angry anarchist. Or a Republican. You have to put in the effort to find the wind that's blowing the direction you want to go, then run with it. 

In any event, Universe, my primary feeling in life is no longer anger, but gratitude. I wouldn't say I'm grateful to you, because that doesn't mean anything to me. I don't think you're anthropomorphic, or intervening in the daily lives of humans, or inherently good or bad. You're just the universe. I'll even give you a capital U. You're very big. Humans are very small. Our lives are very short.

But we can be grateful without being obsequious. Or groveling. Or fearful. Or imagining that we have to wear a certain clothes or chant Latin phrases or avoid certain foods or throw virgins into volcanoes to win your favor. Blah.

I'm grateful for every day my heart still beats. Grateful for my wife, my kids, my family. 

I'm gonna be a dad for the third time. Did I mention that? Look in your notes. I'm so grateful for that.

I agree with Carl Sandburg that babies are God's opinion that life should go on. Of all the things I have done or will do in my life, the most gratifying is being a father and husband. 

We all start out thinking we're the center of the universe. We eventually realize that's not the case. For those who haven't realized it until that point, fatherhood is a good tipping point. Fatherhood is creating--and being responsible for--something more important than you, something you'd give up your own too-short life for. 

So, Universe.

You've thrown some shit my way. No complaints. We're good.

But I gotta say, I'm stifling a teensy smile right now, because I feel like I just landed a really good punch.

Todd

Book update

We've had a good first half of 2021.

My five "Dr. Seuss" books were published over the past six months, and the board book version of "Three Grumpy Trucks" came out in May. All six are selling well.

I have one more Cat in the Hat Learning Library title coming out in 2022. I can't say what the future holds for writing more Seuss books after that, but I'll keep pitching.

I have two additional books that will be published in 2022 or 2023. One is about a leprechaun and the Easter Bunny. The other is simply about love, and is one of my favorite manuscripts.

Having finished a first draft of my first attempt at a novel, I've set it aside for a few months to attempt a first draft of another. I'll get the hang of it eventually.

I think I've made it pretty clear that it's tough to make a living writing children's books unless you live in a yurt in rural Kyrgyzstan. We live down the block from Jerry Seinfeld, so it's unlikely I'll ever support the family with my creative endeavors. Never say never.

To be clear, it's never annoying to get a check.

In non-book news, the Iowa Hawkeyes are NCAA wrestling champs. Jo has a new job--and I'm still employed. Samantha is doing great, and Ethan is home for the summer. Knock wood, the pandemic is finally behind us.

We are grateful.

My favorite Zoom backgrounds

 Manhattan Beach, California.

Central Park West.

The Brady House.

Fallingwater.

DeLorean.

Space Station.

Amalfi Coast.

Sailboat.

St. Lucia. (Not recommended for business calls.)

Paris.

Everest.

I am ready for the pandemic to end. But I am having way too much fun on Zoom.

New Year's check-in

I started thinking it might be time to retire this blog when my holiday newsletter looked like crap on a mobile phone, and I realized that Blogger hasn't updated its platform since phones were invented.

Free is still good, but at this point it's kind of like free fruit cake.

But we'll proceed.

Ethan has returned to college for the spring semester, and Samantha is living with her mom, so as of now it's just me and Jo and the two bad dogs living in this rambling two-bedroom apartment. It suddenly seems like 4,000 square feet.

2021 is the year we're transitioning "their bedroom" into "the spare bedroom." We're re-sanding the floor for the first time since 1929, and re-painting the walls from 2002 Baby Blue to 2021 Manhattan Co-op Gray. (Hoping the light gray redecorating trend hasn't passed yet.)

In process:

We're also going to pare down the furniture and junk to make it look less like a hoarder's den. "Would your mother-in-law be willing to sleep here?" is our guidepost.

In other news, I will have FIVE new books out in 2021--all Dr. Seuss. Two came out this month; the other three will be published by May. 

A board book version of Three Grumpy Trucks will also be released in June.

Other than that, I'm happy to be alive, grateful to be a husband and a father, optimistic that the Hawkeyes may finally win NCAAs this year, and more relieved than I even imagined to have a new president.

It's almost as if all the money for the border wall has been redirected to repair the rift in the space-time continuum.

Happy New Year.