Rude Behavior

I still marvel at the idea that Melanie has a baby in her belly.

I have now successfully made the complete emotional journey. At first I just assumed I’d have kids one day. I wasn’t planning on it. I wasn’t not planning on it. Just assumed because that’s what humans do. They boink and eventually the fellas make the journey with or without your consent. Just figured it would happen. One day. Once we got our ducks in a row as the Southerners say.
Then we found out we couldn’t have children. Our dirty bits weren’t working properly. Or were they? A debate for later.
I guess to some degree I started rationalizing at that point. I started saying, we’ll travel the world. We’ll be able to go and do what most couples can’t. And eventually not only did I accept the idea but oddly enough I became an advocate for not having kids. Questioned my abilities to even be a father or more frightening…my abilities to simply provide.
And so our childless adventure continued. High highs and low lows. Mel and I have made just about every mistake a couple can make. And you may say, all couples make mistakes. Nope, you’re not even close. You gotta think more outside the box. We did. We never stabbed one another but it wasn’t for lack of trying. I read somewhere that the two overriding reasons for divorce were money and/or sex. Untrue. Insecurity is the main reason. And we excelled at playing on each other’s perfectly. Some of it can be blamed our our pasts. We came into our relationship with mounds of baggage. Mel’s alone was monumental. The majority of men would crumble if they were faced with a fraction of what Mel has had to overcome. So, we had already proven that we could survive whatever life threw at us. That much was a given. What we couldn’t survive is what we threw at each other. In the end, after twelve years, we separated and tried to move on without the other.
Words just don’t describe how horrible that was. I could go through the motions, do what was expected of me. I could fake it. Because if you lie to yourself long enough eventually you’ll believe it. At least that’s the theory but it wasn’t working. Every day was like waking up to find your arms and legs had been amputated in the night. My vision was blurred, my hearing distorted, my taste buds were muted, the air smelled stale. And it was no better for Mel. We were both miserable.

So we started again. And this time without the insecurities. We’d both seen what it was like without the other and suddenly squeezing the tube from the middle didn’t seem so life shattering. We stopped trying to change each other and just…lived. Accepted. Enjoyed.
Happiest times of our lives. This was the Holy Grail. It’s what we’d always wanted but had spent years sabotaging. Somehow, as crazy as this sounds…we grew up.
Medically, we didn’t do anything differently. We would still never have children but that was okay now. We were together. We were happy. We’d reached that point in Jerry Maguire where I told her she completed me and she told me I had her at hello.
And that’s when she got knocked up.

This pic was taken at a Monterey coffee shop on Christmas morning. It’s important because unknown to us, there was a bun in the oven.
I keep marveling over that simple fact. Our dirty bits didn’t work! This was not supposed to be possible. But it actually makes sense to me now. You see we’ve always been blessed. In the early days, when we were down to our last 40 bucks in the bank with rent due, money would show up. This didn’t just happen once. It happened constantly. Any time life threw us a curve, we were always provided with the talent to knock it out of the park.
And this God or Angels or Universe wasn’t just watching out for us, He, She or it was watching out for what we would one day create. Because unlike so many couples who bring a little one into a dysfunctional family or those who have a baby in the selfish attempt to fix their miserable relationship…we were simply not allowed.
It was only after we accepted each other, fixed ourselves, that we were allowed a child.

And oh, what a child she will be. When her daddy puts his ear to mother’s belly, she kicks him in the head. How perfect is that? She tolerates classical but loves Rap. And her sense of humor is already developed beyond most. I love sausage. Melanie hates it. She loves bacon instead. But little Ms. Izzie Rain won’t let momma eat bacon, instead forces her to eat sausage. A freaking comic genius, I say.

We took her to her first concert. The White Album Ensemble would play “Let It Be” and “Abbey Road” in album order.

And of course, Izzie Rain loved it.
I bought her IzzieRain.com last week. Mel put a quick site together where the story can be told from Momma’s point of view, as well as links to our registries, pictures and the like for family and friends. When Izzie Rain is a young teen we’ll give her the site and let her do with it as she pleases.
Izzie Rain. My daughter.
I saw a pregnant woman at the coffee shop a few days back. Told her my wife was expecting too. This coffee lady told me she was having a little girl. Us too, I proclaimed. She told me they were naming their daughter Brenda Jane and asked if we’d picked out a name. I told her…
Izzie Rain.
She looked at me like I’d kicked her in the gut. Her face paled. Satan rose over her shoulder, her eyes glinted envy and hate. “That’s…that’s a great name,” she said then turned to fetch her hot tea from the counter. I felt confident she would soon be going home to kick her rather dull and unsuspecting husband in the balls.

I got a pretty good life.
So what’s up on the work front?
Shrunk is in the hands of the agents. The pitches are done and although we’re still in play at a couple of places, it’s out of my hands for the time being.
Don is doing the art work for book two of Alien Pig Farm.
We’re waiting on art samples for Sleepers.
Psychopath is turning to a new developer. Game first, Film to follow.
I’m in bed on two other projects with Foxhoven. Outline is complete on one, still working on the other. It’s trickier but I love the genre.
I’m chasing two remakes. One I’m holding off on hoping a buddy, Mark Haslett, can bag the job. The other, is a Japanese flick. Awaiting the details from my agent. Want to make sure they have money to pay for a script before I go down that road. Not in the market for a producer development gig at this point.
Witchblade has been put on hold for the moment. Variety ran an article stating that one of the producers dropped. Gonna wait for the smoke to clear before I dive back into the outline.
I’m working on a string of specs.
One is called, “Once Upon a Time in Hell”. It makes me giggle.
Another is called, “Rude Behavior”. It makes me grin.
Riddle is out to a couple new places and I’ve put Past Tense on hold for the moment.
Then there are string of other ideas I need to solidify. The agents and managers want to see the working list before I dive into the specs. It’s a precaution more than anything else. The agents just want to make sure there aren’t projects out there that are similar. It’s an attempt to stop me from wasting my time. The managers would like to be a bit more hands on with the story. But I’m thinking, “nah”.
I’m sure there’s more but that’s off the top of my head.

My brother Aarek returned alive from his trip to Mother Africa.

He went there doing Missionary work. He’s the one on the left.
For now, that is all. Warcraft’s patch 1.11 went live today which means Mel, Dean and I have a guhzillion addons to update.
Be safe, heroes.