Saturday, May 19, 2012

Drained


May 19th, 2012


My torso is stretched out on my leather lounge chair. Both my arms are stretched back above my head but they are bent at the elbows and my hands are tucked under my head. The softness of the chair back cushions my forearms from the pressure the weight of my head is exerting on them. The rubber lining hiding beneath the leather folds and stitching, is molding its self around my appendages.

I close my eyes to rest. The computer screen that is resting on the arm of my throne is bright. The bright light emanating from the screen projects itself onto my eye lids penetrating the thin layer of skin and reaching my corneas. I am too tired to move too relaxed to care.

I am so drained.

I revel in the quiet of my house. The kids have finally fell a sleep. They produce an energy that can not be matched. They are their own power plant. Their silence is golden but eerie. The only sounds I hear are the ticking of the clock, an occasional car driving down my street and the wind kicking some poor shrub that happens to be too close to the window.

My week was long. The mornings are getting harder and harder for me to get up because I stay up late to enjoy a little time to myself. My motivation in the morning is that I look forward to my Redbull that I love to sip on the drive to school. I use to wait until I got home from dropping Nico off to his waiting teachers that stand patiently at the curb side, but Christopher won’t let me enjoy it in peace anymore. He wants constant attention. He is truly the baby.

It is utterly exhausting taking care of two toddlers on a daily bases. It is something that should never be taken for granted. They need to be attended to in every moment. The luxury of “time to yourself” cast aside.

I spend time looking for small amounts of simple pleasures, like closing my eyes for a moment. Only to pry them open to find out what new things my children are discovering and mischief they found, always seeming to find the things that will be forbidden before I can designate that it is off limits to them.

To get through my days I block out the thoughts that I have that reminds me that I still have to get child care on a permanent bases for my young ones, even though the reality of it is I have to. It drains any energy I have when I think of it and can change my mood in an instant. So now, I just take my days in twenty-four hour increments. Leaving the next twenty-four hour's up to what the previous twenty-four gave me. Well, something like that.

To prevent myself from being totally drained I try to find things that will occupy the boys time without much physical input from me. I’ll shuffle through the same movie play list that they have begun to be bored of.

Allow them some leeway like playing in the shed. Which is now their clubhouse.

Make an indoor tent utilizing the bed sheets. Until the real fun begins when they tear it down, like a sand castle at the beach, laughing all the while they do it.

Such awesome laughter that can melt the thickest ice. And I am no exception.


I am sitting here in my chair and watching them and their destruction of sheets that formed their tent. The giggles float in the air, like music notes, and travel to where I am, my ears capturing it, enjoying their tune. The sound is intoxicating my senses. The pure joy they are having in the most trivial of things is bringing them normalcy to an otherwise abnormal situation.

I can only wonder what its like to find such innocence in bed sheets when most of our adult life innocence is lost in-between the sheets.

Ultimately they want dad to be in their mix of fun and games. To share their laughter, to enjoy their enthusiasm..

So I find myself obliging their wants and needs by engaging in their childhood by tapping into my inner child that I thought eluded me decades ago when my brain was altered like a drug and gave way to puberty and the angst of being a teenager.


It’s funny, so many of us try to forget what its like being a kid but attempt to tap into the inner child within ourselves, when we long for a time that seemed easy and carefree. Its amazing how our children make us yearn for such a moment.

So I reach in deep into my energy reserves, knowing full well they will be totally drained, but for the needs of my boys it is a sacrifice I am more than willing to make.

I chase them around the backyard, like a game of tag, but instead we're on the prowl for the ever elusive lizard that has been the latest fun for them. Like searching for the Easter eggs we never found last April, the lizard hunt always starts out the same.

“Lizard, lizard.” Nico announces as he walks to the bushes and searches the cracks and crevasse.

I join in.

“Lizard, oh lizard”, I say singing it out loud.

Not to be out done Christopher joins in the paleontology fun searching for the closest of cousins to the dinosaur.

“Where are you lizard”, Christopher announces as he follows behind me while Nico leads the way.

"Hello!" Nico announces, dragging the final O in hello, until he's out of breath.

The search goes on as discovery's are made and others areas need to be explored. This goes on throughout the day. This is their worry, their need to find a lizard. My reserves wind down and I head for my hanger to recharge my battery until the next time they beacon me.

Nico senses my need to rest and he follows behind me as I walk though the back door and straight to my lounge chair. When I sit down in my chair I instinctually reach down with my right hand to pull the plastic handle that will extend the foot rest in the up position. But this time I am met with resistance. He had knelt down beside the chair and as I went to extend my feet he pushed my hand away. He pulled the lever himself. Showing his dad he appreciates the time he spent with them. All I can do is smile.

I stare at my oldest son as he looks up at me. I smile at him and reach my hand out running it through his hair. My energy may be draining to empty, but my love is always on full. I glance over to the television that’s mounted on the wall. But my peripheral catches Christopher walking in and he has a little dance to his step. He is happy. My smile gives way to a snicker of excitement because I have them.

They are the only fuel I need. They pick me up when I am down more so then I do them.

Like a tub drain draining the water so goes my vigor. It’s a constant battle to find the right mixture of fatherhood and well being. I go on pure vehemence and vitality.

Like an oil well I pump out every once of childhood I have in me until the last drop in order to give my kids there own childhood free from the worries of adulthood. Carefree living is the way for them to live and just as my son put my feet up to help me relax, I will put my feet down to help them play.

I will find my energy through them even if it's draining away.











Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Friday, May 18, 2012

Trying to Find the Good


May 18th, 2012

What the hell is my problem? Why am I laid up like this? There are people out there with worse problems going on in their lives. Worse then mine. Yet, I am numb.

I have a good job, two beautiful children. All I have to do is get my shit together. But as much as I try I fail. My motivation gone by the way side. Discarded like trash without a second thought to it, until my mind goes back to look for it again.

Isn’t that how it always is with things you discard. You don’t know what you have until its gone.


I day dream of a life that is fulfilling. Much like someone would do in a dead end job, or sitting behind a desk not doing what they have been placed on this earth to do. My day dreaming is not about glamour or glitz. It’s about security, fun and fulfillment. Enjoying life’s simple pleasures. But how can you enjoy simple things when life is as complicated as you view it?

For me, my complication has to be change, yet I use to embrace change. I can feel normal one second but miserable the next. Its like a battle of my internal being fighting with my external self. The slightest difference in my environment can make me ornery. The anger that I have built deep within the confines of my bodies coffers seep out into my blood stream exploding like a TNT keg.

Think about whatever it is that annoys you as a living breathing existence rolled up into one and it’s teasing you . You try to ignore it, but then it eats at you. You turn your back but its still there. Covering your ears doesn’t help because it’s stuck in your mind. Trying to divert your attention to something better is useless because its always there.

My reminders are everywhere. They don’t annoy me in a bad way, they annoy me by stimulating sorrow within my conscious by having me remember a time when life seemed simple. When I walk down my hallway I have four family pictures to my right that speak to me. To my left I have large wedding picture that stares at me. I walk into my bathroom and there are different types of body wash that live in the shower.

They give my senses reminders of a person that had a life. But I can not throw it all away to begin anew.

I know this will never change. Reminders of the past can be good. It is always easier to remember times that gratify the mind then to reminisce about the bad that will drag you further down into the abyss. But it is how you pull your self out of the abyss that will define your character for years to come, so its better to have the bad with the good because they work in tandem.

If the bad is already there then there is nothing you can do to rid yourself of the stench other then to wash yourself in the body wash of the one you once loved because the smell will put a smile on your face reminding you of the good times you once had. That’s what I focus on.

Thinking that way about the good will allow my self to roll with the punches. Even though it can be difficult when you continually feel like your being jabbed in the sides and upper cut to the face. Your emotions continue to take the pounding and you feel you are truly alone. Between the punches you grab your opponent. Wrapping your weary arms around his shoulders as if your hugging them, begging them to slow it down but mainly so you can breath for a few seconds as you look to the people in your corner hoping they will throw in the towel, your life line, but there is no one there to show you mercy. Leaving you alone to fight this one on your own.

Finding simple pleasures is the only way to make life tolerable to overcoming the feeling of being beat up. The sip of a good wine, a good book, funny movie, the escape from the reality of the present. Even if its zoning out in your favorite chair or a long car ride. It is the only time to reason with yourself. You are your truest friend. You know yourself like no other.
  
“Breath, reflect, conquer. Think how far you’ve come in life. Push away the negativity. You have two great kids. Two dogs. A job. Health. Push through this. I’m strong. I am a willing participant of life and need to get this together.” I try to tell myself by convincing my mind it will get better. Or is it my mind trying to convince me?

I can remind my self of this everyday but I always find myself on my knees trying to do the impossible by picking up my shattered past. Like a broken mirror the pieces are scattered about. How am I to reflect on what I just lost when the image is in pieces before my very eyes? No amount of glue or tape will fix this.

Only the strong survive but the strong will bleed all the same as the jagged pieces of glass penetrate their fragile skin in their attempt to rebuild it. My only option is to sweep it up and throw it away. But for now I’d rather step on it then clean it up, shredding my feet and thus enhancing my pain. Even though I know it does me no good to act in such a reckless manner.

All wounds heal themselves with time, but how do you heal when if feels this deep. For those who accomplish this feat must truly be one with adversity. I have had adversity in my life and over come it. Fighting for every inch of what I have without having to look in my corner, however now I’m doing just that when I know I have to guard my sides and protect my own head guarding myself from the barrage of punches.

I have to get my own dust pan and broom and clean up this glass rather then cut myself trying to piece together something that will not be the same even if the mirror was fixed because the reflection will just distort the image of what the truth really is, gone.

I know the good is deep within me and I have to find it. The search party is out in my mind, body and soul and It’s trying to reach me by telling me it will be okay.

The good is in my children. The good is the love they share with me through their laughter and in their embrace when they tell me “I love you daddy.” The good is having a life worthy of sharing it with others. The good is in my health and the ability to breath and see a new day. The good is the ability to provide help to those who otherwise can not help themselves.

The good is there somewhere, deep down inside the human being that is me, I just have to find it.


.








Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

In Search for my Everlasting Gobstopper from the Yellow Brick Road


May 15th, 2012

I honestly forgot Mother’s Day was coming up. In the weeks leading up to this day we are to celebrate everything mom, I was too consumed in my own world to think about it.

I’ve been too consumed in a lot of things going on in my own world to think about much of anything.

The only time I would remember Mother’s Day was when I would load the boys up in the mini-van in search for our Willy Wonka fun but we seem to always came back feeling more like Slugworth in search of his Everlasting Gobstopper.

The get up and go routine when I am ready to venture out is the only thing that I have down to a science.

When I decide that I need to get up from my lethargic state. I use a lot of energy just to remove my body from the safety of my couch. My motivation rushes over me that I once had prior to losing my wife in March.

A flood of adrenaline pumps through my veins, giving me a boost by enhancing my skeletal muscles and increasing my oxygen intake like a high performance race car. Now everything I do is without thought and simply automatic.

Like a tornado in the Wizard of Oz, I spring into action.

I grab Nico and take him into his room. I exchange diapers, out with the old in with the new, and dress him. I throw on his shirt. He raises his arms high in the air as if I’m robbing him. I then pull the shirt over his head and the sleeves down his olive skin tone arms. I grab a matching pair of shorts and place them at the base of his feet inches from his toes.

We say in unison. “First leg, step 1. Second leg, step 2.”, as he steps in each pant leg.

Nico is ready to go so he runs off but I’m not done yet.

Waiting anxiously by my side is Christopher eagerly awaiting his full service. I look at him and say in my worst British accent, “At your service my lord.”

As freighting as my accent is he doesn’t hesitate and lays down presenting his legs in the air waiting for his own diaper to be place on.

“Step 1, step 2”, we say together as I put on his shorts.

Today I decided we’d all wear orange shirts since Nico was already sporting his. So I grab the over priced Disney Buzz Lightyear t-shirt and slip it on over Christopher’s head and down his torso.

“Bye, bye?”, Christopher asks me in his high voice. As if Mickey Mouse himself was speaking for him.

“Yup”, affirming his inquiry and fueling his delight.

He turns from me, runs out of the bedroom, rounds the door jam and heads down the hall. When his little feet reach the living room he makes his way to the couch where he takes his usual position on top of the sofa by the window with the perfect view of the front yard. He is in his prep area, batter on deck, patiently waiting me to secure Nico in his seat of passage, knowing that I will return for him.

Nico is standing by the door eagerly waiting for me to pick him and bring him outside. He’s the first to be installed in his car seat. A perk you get for being the oldest.

I bend over and slide my right arm under his legs. He wraps his left arm around my big shoulders and we walk out the door.

“Cop car! Cop car!”, he shouts pointing at my police car as it sits parked in the driveway.

I buckle him in his rear stately carriage of the mini-van. He can hardly contain his smile.

They both love to go for a drive in the van. They enjoy watching the world pass by at 45 miles per hour because for now its better then sitting in the house and watch time go by 24 hours a day.

I kiss him on his forehead. A treat he’ll except for now until he’s older. When big boys don’t kiss their daddy.

“Be right back”, Nico says beating me to the punch, knowing full well what I was going to say.

I walk partially across the grass towards my front door. Christopher watches intensely through the window. I inch closer to his freedom and he sequels with delight. The anticipation of my arrival enthralls him.

When I open the door I immediately turn to my right. The couch isn’t resting too far from Christopher’s gateway and he doesn’t hesitate to jump in my arms. I’m wiser now to his para jumping antics and was fully expecting the 30 pound bundle of joy to come flying at me.

“Lets go!” I shout with enthusiasm. I’m the epitome of happy on the outside but crying on the inside.

I do my best to make the bad go away. It’s important for me to make sure my boys are in a cocoon of love so they will know no other feeling and eventually their pain will go away.

It’s the dad trying to find the mom in me.

I carry Christopher to his spot to the rear driver side of the mini-van. He’s the co-pilot directly behind dad.

The first to be grabbed upon our arrival when we are out and about. The perk of being the youngest. I snug him in his cushion ride. And with a smile I say, “Let’s do this.”

I make sure their tray tables are up and seat backs are in the upright position in preparation for our departure. The van isn’t as fun as the Wonkavator but it will do just fine.

I back the mini-van out of the drive way and we’re on our way down the yellow brick road in search for our golden ticket.

I decided to turn off the DVD player that is looping the same movie for the last several days and jam to some music. I’m looking for the boys to have some other kind of culture in their life other than Dreamworks and Walt Disney Studios. What better way then to enlighten them with some good music. I reach over and turn the volume up on the radio.

The music plays, “Have a drink, clink, found the Bud Light Bad bitches like me…

“Huh”, I think.

…is hard to come by The Patrón, own, let’s go get it on…

“Who, what. Get on who?”, I say.

…The zone, own, yes I’m in the zone Is it two, three, leave a good tip I’ma blow all my money and don’t give two shits….

“Okay that’s enough culture for now”, I announce, looking back at my boys by utilizing the review mirror.

They are oblivious to what is going on. The over zealous parent in me changes the music channel. In my hast to change the station the scan button I hit lands on

Smooth 101.1

“Its time to say thanks to mom this Mother’s Day.” The evenly voice over man says during a commercial break in the music. I quickly change the station.

97.9 The Beat of Florida

“Mother’s Day, Mother’s Day, Mother’s Day.” The voice over exclaims, “Ugh”, I cringe my face, reaching out and pushing the channel button.

101.4 Light Hearted

“So this Mother’s Day, say it with love”

“Fuck me”, my frustration winning.

102.5 The Wavez

Woman Singing ,“This Mother’s Day is right to say what’s right, and that’s to say that today is mom’s day and give her the love…”

Change

106.3 The Best of Today

Little girl voice over, “My mom is the best mommy in the whole wide world, so this Mother’s Day.”

Caliente 103.1


“Día de la Madre estará disponible muy pronto. tu madre se merece lo mejor. ¡Feliz Día de la madre.”

I dont't even know what they said other then Feliz, so I know it can't be good.

“Just forget it. Want to hear some Howard Stern guys?”, I shout out loud. “That’s way better then the Nicki Minaj song” , I mutter to myself.

I switch the channel to Sirius 100 and Robin Quivers is doing the news….

“Refreshing”, I think.

“And that’s what’s happening Howard”, Robin says in familiar and soothing voice that I’ve been listening to the past sixteen years.

“Thank you Robin” Howard says “Hey Robin did you know Mother’s Day is coming up.” Howard speaks to her in the same banter that has brought them their success.

“Why yes Howard I did.” Robin replies.

“Well Robin, there is no better way to say Happy Mother’s day then sending A Vermont Teddy-Gram…”

“That’s it!” I shout. “Okay guys enjoy the culture on the street”, I said while turning off the radio.

Maybe the Oompa Loompa’s will bust out with a song I think to myself and give some wise advice. My mind wanders and I envision the Oompa Loompa’s little orange faces surrounding my front wind shield of my mini-van.
  
“Oompa Loompa doompadee doo
I've got another puzzle for you
Oompa Loompa doompadee dee
If you are wise you will listen to me

What do you get when your dad is stuck.
Trying to bring his family some luck.
Not really sure how to turn it around.
Life is hard and you have stop feeling down.
Time is wasting so get it done now.
It’s up to you to end all this rut.
Stop feeling stuck and drop the front.
Get... off your butt.

Oompa Loompa doompadee dah
If you're not spoiled then you will go far
You will live in happiness too
Like the Oompa Loompa doompadee do.”

“Blah”, I bemoan and activate my windshield wipers and clean the window.

Man, if I had an Everlasting Gobstopper I’d so sell it to Slugworth.

The search was on to occupy the boys with some fun. My yellow brick road winding through twists and turns hoping to find the Emerald City. I need more courage to press myself but my brain isn’t thinking right but my heart is in the right place with everything I have been doing.

I’ve never felt this way. It's like Dorothy dropped a house on my world. It’s getting old though. I have to resurrect it somehow. No one is going to help me or lend me a hand. The Good Witch isn’t going to magically appear and place Ruby Red slippers on my feet to guide my way. And no one I know is helping or going to help me.

It’s like I have traveled off the Yellow Brick Road and found my way on the Wonkatania headed down my stream of chocolate, into the tunnel of bad dreams and fears with my life being broadcast on the crawlways walls.

I have to fight my way off this boat. But it seems like if make my escape I’ll be attacked by flying monkey’s. Man isn’t meant to fly, so I don’t try to drink the Fizzy Lifting Drink to make my escape. Besides I’d only get caught in the fan.

I guess when I’m ready I’ll have to be the one to slip into my Ruby Red slippers on, click my heals hoping for the best as I get back on the Yellow Brick Road of life.

And if I do find Slugworth and my Everlasting Gobstopper. I’ll hold on to it and give it back to Willie Wonka. Maybe the good karma will be return to me.

Until then the radio is off on the road trip I have brought my boys on this day. Mother’s Day commercials are too hard right now.

The boys can stare out the window and observe Culture from afar.

If they look hard enough maybe they’ll even see an Oompa Loompa.


Starships written by: Nicki Minaj, RedOne, Carl Falk, Rami Yacoub, Wayne Hector

Oompa Loompa chorus written by: Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley


*Personal Note:

Today marks two months since my wife died. Two hard long months of deep battles within myself that no one will understand since no one has bothered to make themselves understand.me I can not teach you what I don't know myself.

If it helps those who ignore me to make themselves feel better with the knowledge they don't have to go through what I am going through, then I am happy that you at least found your own happiness.

Mimie, the boys miss their mom more then I can ever write here, more then anything. And I miss the only person in the world that I talked to every single day and who talked to me.









Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Sunday, May 13, 2012

A Mother's Love


 Mother's Day May 13th, 2012

Dedicated to Mimie, My Boys and Mom's Everywhere

Love is beginning to form in the womb as conception has just occurred. The mother closes her eyes the moment she knows the exact instant it happens. The zygote sends out amorousness through the mothers’ body’s central nervous system. The second it reaches the brain the mother knows she’s in love.

The baby starts to grow deep inside the mothers abdomen. Mom’s affection encapsulating the growth of her unborn love with each dawn of a new day.

She is the creator of life, to which the soul, that was just actualized, will always be held dear to her heart in life and in death.

With each passing day the love affair blooms like Cherry Blossoms blooming in early spring. The soon to be mother is affected by the endorphins that are sent out by the mortal being cultivated deep inside herself. As the baby grows, so does her baby bump showing the world that there is another life within her own.

Brain waves are shared between mother and child and the kinetic energy spread to one and other is intoxicating the senses with devotion and without compromise.

A mother thinks about nothing but the life form that is being raised inside her womb.

Her life will now be dictated by what is right by her love. By now her new love, that has a life, probably has a name. Doctors appointments and shopping are on the agenda to be prepared for what is truly, the only real birthday that we will never remember.

The months seem long so its easier to put them into weeks, because then the weeks leads to days, until the new arrival will come.

The love being reared, from the moment of conception, is now stretching and having hiccups. It is truly a blessing when you can feel these going ons inside of you, when others can only stand by and feel the vibration by placing their hand on the bubble in which the baby lays.

The days become restless and a nights sleep even less.

The uncomfortable feeling of not being able to roll on your side is comforted by the knowledge that soon she will meet the baby inside. The joy a baby has brought to a mother is not measured by the weight in which he or she will be born, but in the weight of the love they have exerted on her heart.

The unborn seed already bringing good things to their mom by allowing her to enjoy food with out prejudice and judgment. Ice cream and cake to pickles and fries to chocolate and candy. The baby has already brought the fun of being a kid back to their mom who might have forgotten what it was like to eat like a child again.

Mom begins to worry about what is and what will be, until the life emerges form the depths of her insides, presenting her the greatest gift she will ever have. In a sense a girls Red Ryder.

Classes are registered for, the excitment of hospital tours, and toy buying have begun. It is only a matter time now that she will meet the one growing inside.

In the hospital, mom will wait anxiously until she has her baby in hand.

Dad will wait by her side, but he will never fully understand what is about to occur because only a mothers love can understand that. The doctors buzz around and the family waits, but mom as been waiting longer. She will push with all her might because the need to see her new love is boiling over.

With all her love and strength the baby has come.

The baby and mother is united on the outside with a love that has just shattered everything else that is irrelevant. When she is presented with the person that was in side her, then she will know that God truly exists because only God could create something so perfectly fitted for her.

The tears flow from everyone, but the tears by baby and mother are the ones that matter. They are reunited after being a lifetime a part. No man can truly know the bond of something that is cultivated from inside the depths of you.

A life form evolving inside a woman as she goes about her daily life. Only a mom can truly understand that. That is why we always need our mom. 
 
When we are sick, mom understands.

When we fall, mom understands

When we fail, mom understands.

When we’ve been wronged, mom understands.

When we need love, mom understands.

A mothers bond is eternal and will never be lost. Not even in death because what the baby doesn’t know is that a mother has planted a seed of her own during the time the sperm fertilizes the egg.

The seed in the child will guide the baby throughout his or her life, guiding them by her heart and her will for them to succeed. A mother will never forget the purpose of life even in her passing because she created something so beautiful inside herself. That intern is everlasting hope and a legacy that will last generations.

A mothers love can never be extinguished by time or fate. Your true love is never lost nor is it forgotten . Its always there with you no matter where you go or what you do. It is the only love that can sustain the test of time.

Mom's love is forever lasting. It will encapsulate you now and forever.

From her boys with love click the below link










Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com