I Want the World! I Want the Whole World! Give It to Me Now!

Let's set aside the fact that I am a man.  Let's also suspend our disbelief and forget that I am a husband.  After we strip both of these labels off what remains is my humanity.  It's what we all share, whether male, female, gay, straight, black, white, Muslim, Christian, American, or Syrian.  Our common bond is our flesh and blood and the function of our cognitive abilities.

Keeping in mind that I am speaking from a human perspective, I want to make a point regarding how a man should treat their spouse.  There are a lot of men out there who want to put themselves first.  They want their wife to cater to their wants and needs.  And once those are satisfied the wife is left alone to satisfy her own.  But what does that do to a relationship?  For one, it puts one person above the other.  It's not equal.  It's not a team, but a dictatorship.  In this type of relationship there is either constant conflict (if the wife is headstrong) or constant acquiescence (if the wife is more reserved).  Even though she may bow in order to keep the relationship together, in her mind and heart feelings of bitterness build.  Sure, the man dominates and constantly gets an ego stroke, but as human beings, neither wins.

I take a different approach.  I realize that my wife is a person, just like me.  She has the same thoughts, experiences the same feelings, and has similar desires and fears.  Keeping this in mind helps to keep my empathy level high.  I don't worry about "what's she done for me lately".  That's not my responsibility, nor is it under my control.  I keep my actions planted in what I have the ability to effect.  My choices can either further the growth of the relationship or cut it off, if only to serve myself.  But why would I even want a partner if I was so concerned with my own well-being?  What's the point of being married if my needs come first?  I might as well be a bachelor or move back in with my parents.  Hell, I should just don a diaper, wear footie pajamas, and sleep in a bar-surrounded bed.  My focus is my wife and children.  Sure, I am not perfect.  As any other human being does, I have moments of selfishness.  But my wife does a good job of keeping empathy in mind as well.  She treats me as an equal and knows we are a team.  For that I am grateful, but I don't expect it.  I take what comes.

Everything said up until this point applies to a man's children as well.  What's the point of having the little lovable buggers if you can't put their needs ahead of your own?  It's not a wife's responsibility to tend to the children, it's a man's duty as well.  The more time spent making your baby girl laugh, playing soccer with your son, sitting and watching a movie together, or just having a conversation with them is an investment in your future just as much as theirs'.  And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon...

It really doesn't matter what gender you happen to be a part of.  We can all put more effort into our relationships.  It's just like a football team: no one person wins the game but everyone plays their part to the best of their ability.  It's not about padding your stats but competing in a manner that brings those around you across the finish line as well.  Hybrid Husbands know how to do this.  It takes practice, but the outcome more than justifies the effort.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

Strong Enough For a Man, But PH Balanced For a Woman

Anyone who knows my wife and I has heard us go on and on about how hard our first child, Rylan, was as a baby.  They may think we are exaggerating, or trying to gain undue sympathy, but the truth is, it was as bad as we make it sound!  Rylan had what the experts call "colic" - or another name for something they really can't explain.  American Heritage defines colic as "a condition seen in infants less than three months old, marked by periods of inconsolable crying lasting for hours at a time for at least three weeks.  The cause is unknown."  For Rylan, this condition lasted for eight months - about the same time he began sleeping through the night!  We literally could only go out of the house, in public, for a very short period of time, as he would cry constantly.  It's funny because we would hand him off to someone who believed they could calm him only to get him handed back after a few minutes.  The experience was terrible.  At one point (half-jokingly) I told my wife that we should just divorce, that way one of us could be rid of the experience 50% of the time.  The complete experience was scarring.  We vowed never to have kids again, dooming our first born to "only child" status for the rest of his life.  Even years after Rylan's babyhood my wife and I still would get a bit nauseous thinking about having another newborn in our lives.  (A QUICK DISCLAIMER - there were good times and laughter sprinkled in with the colic period.  We stuck it out in the hopes that things would eventually get better.)

Seven years later, on May 12th, 2012, my 35th birthday, we were sitting on the couch after a fun day of birthday shenanigans.  I still recall the moment vividly: the beautiful orange sunset lighting up our living room, my butt planted on the far right recliner of our couch, the TV on, my wife and I chatting.  At that moment an idea popped into my mind.  This divinely inspired thought whispered to my lounging consciousness, "You aren't getting any younger.  If you want another child, now is the time to do it."  It felt right, even after a near decade of a family of three.  I turned to my wife and said, "I think we should have another baby."  To my surprise she agreed!  After a month of dutiful attempts at procreating (which to me wasn't nearly as much fun as carefully protected non-germinating coitus - a story for another time) the pee-on-a-stick showed two lines and our lives began another evolution.

Nine fatigued-filled months later our daughter Leila was born.  What was once something we vowed never to do again was now a shining moment for our family.  She was beautiful and our feelings at the time are best summed up by what my son said: "This family needed a daughter".  But with the ups come the downs.  I initially took two weeks off from my work at MBC Law Firm to be home, then went back to work for two weeks, and then took an additional two weeks off.  My wife shut down our salon for a little over a month and life seemed good.  But then, on Easter Sunday 2013 (which happened to be my wife's 30th birthday), the crying began.  The following week I was back at work and the salon was reopened.  We had no idea what the ramifications of a second child would be.  Everything had to be readjusted and relearned.  I had forgotten how to care for a baby!  Seven years erased all skill.  The pressure mounted and my shoulders felt like they were dragging along the floor.  I couldn't handle it.  My mind raced and then shutdown -  my whole being broke down into tears.  I believe they call it a nervous breakdown.  I sobbed in front of my wife and son who had never seen me behave like that before.  I had no control over the emotion.  It felt as though our lives were over - the only thing looming on the horizon was never ending stress.  Luckily, I decided to see my therapist.  After two sessions I came to understand that the trauma I had experienced from Rylan's baby years had never been dealt with and that I was applying that same trauma to a totally different baby.  My angel of psychology helped me become aware of the fact that Leila was a MUCH easier baby than Rylan.  I was also allowed to let some things go without worry: making a salad with every meal, Rylan playing more video games than normal, keeping the house spotless.  With the right therapist, therapy pays off.  I haven't had a nervous breakdown since.  I love my daughter and could never imagine my life without her.

Reality is an eternal state of flux.  The only constant is change.  During my nervous breakdown I couldn't imagine things getting better, but they did, and quicker than I could have ever imagined.  The stress is still here though.  The responsibilities have not disappeared.  But I've grown used to my new life - the old one now seems foreign.  I am thankful for my lovely six month old daughter, my determined, strong, wise wife, and my smart, athletic, caring eight year old son.  I am also thankful for the experience with him as a baby.  It taught me that I could handle any curveball of poo poo that life may throw at me - maybe with a few tears and worried thoughts at first, but always on my feet in the end.

Oh, and by the way, a Hybrid Husband can cry, can give up, and be weak.  Vulnerability is human, not female and constant repression of honest emotion leads to neurosis.  If "men" could stop the Tough Act they would find a new way to relate to and enjoy life.  Let us all stop aspiring to be gladiators and instead strive to be authentic.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

When It Rains, It Pours

In less than a 24 hour span (last Monday early evening through Tuesday late morning) reality handed my wife and I some very interesting and difficult curveballs.  At eleven fifteen AM on Tuesday, the third of September, the barrage finally ended with a very relieving phone call to my employer, MBC Law Firm.  But I had no idea what was in store for us on Monday.  It all started with a sudden expulsion of projectile vomit.

5:00 PM Monday, September 2

My wife had just finished feeding the baby and laid her down across her lap on her back.  Without warning my daughter erupted, spewing breast milk, ground peas, oatmeal, and a little bit of formula all over my wife's pants, the couch, and the floor.  At first we all thought she had just spit up more violently than usual.  We were a bit freaked about the mess and the fact that my wife had to completely change her clothes, but other than that we felt the night would continue as normal.  About ten minutes later, while I held the baby, she exploded again, launching more partially digested particles of joy across our bamboo kitchen floors.  She soaked my left arm and bracelet my son had made for me on Father's Day 2012.  The wheels in our minds began to turn - did I feed her too much that day while my wife was working, or did her first taste of formula upset her stomach?  All three of us (including my eight year old son) had our theories but we still weren't in complete panic mode.  I placed my baby daughter in her exer-saucer and asked my son to keep her entertained while we cleaned up the floor.  It wasn't five minutes later that I heard my son let out a loud yelp.  I turned around to witness him shoot five feet across the kitchen floor as my daughter launched another baby puke grenade overboard, barely missing my son's sock covered feet.  Funny thing was that the baby was calm after so much ill digestion while at the same time my son began to sob for fear that his sister was sick.  We all pitched in and finished clean up effort #3.  A half an hour passed with my wife holding the baby, circling the room, while we all mulled over calling the doctor.  Since so much time had passed we figured the all clear had been sounded.  But alas, like a thief in the night one last blast of vomit (fortunately, less Regan McNeil-esque this time) gushed from that sweet innocent mouth.  The doctor was called in a jiffy and we were informed that our daughter may have a virus that's been going around and that we should expect a long night of dry heaving and explosive diarrhea.  Oh, and we should all expect to get the same thing as it's highly contagious.  My son began to cry - as if he had been banned from video games for life.  The tears were part concern for his sister and part concern for his own welfare.  My son does not like to get sick or injured.  While I consoled him my wife tended to the baby.  We both looked at each other knowing we had our late night work cut out for us.

7:00 PM Monday, September 2

I was reminded, via a text from my father, that my mom would be going to the hospital in the morning for surgery to remove a growth inside her body.  The doctors would then biopsy and determine whether the mass was benign or malignant.  At this point it was a waiting game full of doubt and prayers.  I tried my hardest to remain positive as nothing would be determined until the next morning, but it proved to be a difficult task.  My wife, the rock that she is, had to continuously remind me that everything would turn out okay and to keep my head up.  Reality gave me something to take my mind off of it though.  My daughter hadn't puked in an hour and gently slept in my wife's arms.  Maybe the night wouldn't be so bad.

5:34 AM Tuesday, September 3

I had previously decided to take this day as a vacation day so I could spend it with my son on his last day of Summer Vacation.  Normally, on a work day, I arise at 5:40 AM.  But this day I had another alarm to wake me.  No, it wasn't a vomiting, dry heaving, diarrhea daughter - she hadn't stirred since 7:00 the previous night - thank God.  It was a strange metal clanking noise floating through our open front window.  I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.  And what to my wondering eyes did appear?  But some strange dude lowering a beat up Ford Ranger pickup truck off the back of his trailer in the middle of the street and his dog ambling around each neighbor's yard.  Across the street another suspicious vehicle parked on the side of the road with its engine running and occupant at the wheel.  Another man appeared out of the hazy dark early dawn.  He entered the now lowered black truck and quickly backed it down the street and onto the main road.  I yelled out, "What the hell is going on?!".  The female occupant of the parked idling car responded, "Who the fuck are you!".  I retorted, "the man calling the cops!".  She immediately started her vehicle and raced out of sight.  The trailer operator calmly walked to his attached Suburban, as if to make it appear he wasn't doing anything suspicious, whistled to his dog to come, and disappeared into the early morning of my vacation day.  The cops were called but never responded.  It was too late anyway.  If I hadn't been such a vigilante and had dialed them while things were happening they might have been able to do something.  But now I was left awake, my wife out of bed as well due to the commotion, and my eight year old son up as normal at 5:45 AM on a Tuesday meant for sleeping in.

8:55 AM Tuesday, September 3

Not only do I handle the accounting at my job with MBC Law Firm, but also all the networking and computers, including the servers that keep our data and email flowing.  When I am out of the office another employee backs me up, but she doesn't normally interact with the infrastructure on a day to day basis in the detail that I do.  And it just so happened that the day I had chose to be home with my family I get an urgent call from work that our email server had gone belly up, not responding to multiple restarts of the machine.  My gut reaction was to throw away the day my family had planned and rush to work to see what could be done.  Instead, my backup had already called our outside IT emergency help, and I let go of my need to control things and asked her to keep me informed.  But I did not let go of my ability to thoughtfully obsess over situations and continued to think about that woeful server all morning long.  Since my daughter had slept solidly through the entire night we decided to continue on with our plans to take our son school clothes shopping at the mall.  I tried to push the work problem out of my mind in order to enjoy the day, but it kept reappearing.  I coped by remembering that my daughter had not come down with the MD described virus.  We would all be okay.  But still, the suspicious activity on our street early that morning and my mom now in surgery at St. Joseph's hospital were weighing on my deep conflicted soul.

9:00 AM Tuesday, September 3

I received a text from my father on the status of my mom.  The growth had been removed, biopsied, and determined benign!  Thank you Jesus!  She would remain at the hospital for a few hours to recover but should be home by dinner time.  A weight off my shoulders.  I dropped my earnest concern for my mom and thanked my wife for helping me stay positive.

11:15 AM Tuesday, September 3

Off and on all morning I had been refreshing my work email on my iPhone.  Up until our arrival at the mall it returned errors.  I hadn't heard from work since the first call.  I assumed the outside IT help had arrived and was trying to resuscitate the flat-lining server.  About fifteen minutes after our arrival at the mall my wife and I both had to use the restroom.  We navigated the surprisingly affordable, stylish women's clothing racks of J.C. Penny to find the women's bathroom tucked away in the corner.  While my wife relieved herself I again refreshed my work email.  After a brief hesitation emails began to appear!  I had never been so happy to see new tasks and requests from my fellow employees.  God is real and lives in the realm of 1s and 0s.  I called the law firm to make sure everything was on the up and up.  Yes, the server had been brought back to life.  Interestingly, the email machine wasn't at fault - instead, the backup power supply connected to it had failed and allowed a power surge to mess with the machine's internals.  All was well at my place of business and employees could now go back to avoiding face to face confrontation with a click of the mouse.

All is well that ends well, they say.  It's darkest before the dawn, they also like to repeat.  Faith can move mountains, I read somewhere.  I don't have any explanation or sage advice regarding everything witnessed those blurred 18 hours.  It was what it was.  And on the other side I realize how much my mind can blow things out of proportion.  My admiration for my wife has grown as well.  She is strong and disciplined.  I enjoy growing from that example.

But let's hope reality gives us a breather for a while now.

Thanks for reading.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

So Maybe I Am a Bit Manly

Over the past two months I've been talking a lot about being a Hybrid Husband.  I've given examples of how hybrid husbands are different than their ancestors, the "typical" husband, the "old-fashion" husband.  I most definitely consider myself part of this new hybrid husband evolution.  It's not that HH's are half male and half female but that they still retain some positive characteristics of the stereotypical husband while at the same time exhibiting characteristics of the next evolution: caring, teammate with his wife, nurturer of his children, participates equally in all household duties whether or not he works full time.  An HH doesn't just walk through the door in the evening with a paycheck, stroll to the fridge, grab a fistful of beer, and then plop down on his La-Z-Boy while the hypnotizing flicker of the television forces his mind to shut out the environment around him.  But an HH can at times resemble a typical man.  He can at times enjoy that side of himself.

One way I display my "manly" side is through football.  I LOVE football.  I love playing it, watching it, day dreaming about it, and studying it.  For that level of infatuation, this time of year is perfect!  My particular obsession, as far back as I can remember (which is the 1984 Super Bowl), has been the Seattle Seahawks.  I've been a fan since a child, through the good years and the bad years.  Jim Zorn quarterbacked the start of my fascination, Russell Wilson has kept it going.  In 1986, after diving into a box of Topps Football cards I received for Christmas, I yelled in excitement when uncovering a Bruce Scholtz card (the entire scene was caught on video).  For those who don't share the same Seahawks neurosis, Bruce Scholtz was an offensive lineman - no flair, just a big dude who pushed other big dudes out of the way.  I love the Hawks.  They've been a part of my life forever, so now, when they are finally showing some potential long lasting dominance, I feel like all my hard work of enjoyment is paying off.  I know, to some, this all sounds a bit silly, but everyone has something in their life that consistently entertains them.  Without entertainment life would be bland.  This is my "thing".  And it's also one of the characteristics that balances my manly side with my evolved side.

What makes all of this even more special is that now, after 11 years together, my wife is beginning to show interest in football too, especially the Seattle Seahawks.  She's purchased a few Hawks shirts to wear on game day and she's cheered them on with me at CenturyLink field.  Don't misunderstand though, she is nowhere near my level of obsession, but it's satisfying to enjoy a passion with your spouse and best friend.  Who knows, maybe she is evolving as well.  Maybe she's on the road to becoming a Hybrid Wife.  Either way I love her dearly.  But I also remember to leave room in my heart for Sherman, Wilson, Lynch, and Harvin.

Thanks for reading.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

'Cause I Try and I Try and I Try and I Try

They say the grass is always greener.  From this side of the fence it may appear that way to our mind.  We can rationalize a hundred reasons why what we "possess" now is inferior to what we may "obtain" in the future.  It's so easy to do, that for most of us it's automatic.  Take me, for example.  I had the time of my life back in May 2012 when my wife and I went to see The Ellen Show.  But my brain would not leave it at that.  My synapses began to spasm.  Electrical impulses went on a sugarhigh-ish firing spree.  Images of fame, stardom, and riches blew threw my cranium faster than my small sense of reality could keep up.  I saw what I wanted to see and desired to be what my mind created.  Silly.  I know.  My wife told me from the start to just enjoy the experience for what it was.  I couldn't.  It took me almost a year to stop expecting Ellen to dial my cell phone number.  I have since recovered but honestly, those ideas of fame still cross my mind from time to time.

Funny though, what I have now, my family, house, career, are enough for me.  My needs are met.  Don't get me wrong, there are bad days sprinkled in with the good, but where I am at is right for me.  Desiring something else, whether it be a new house, a guest appearance, or bling, can only bring me down.  It's my mind telling me that I am not happy in the moment which is totally ludicrous.  When else should I be happy?  Where else could I go for bliss?  The moment is it.  To wish for something else is insanity.

As I've said before, I am still human.  I have my weak moments.  I have a tendency to run away from anything that my brain cognizes as difficult.  But the constant reminder of living in the moment, accepting things as they are, has brought me greater peace.  I hope through continued repetition to relax even more.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

It's Not Miley Cyrus' Fault

On a weekday morning my iPhone 4S alarm wakes me at 5:40 with a repetitive doorbell ding dong, ding dong.  For some reason, today, I got up and out of bed without a longing to go back to sleep.  And that's quite odd considering it's Monday.  I pushed back the covers, snuck around my wife, being careful not to put any body weight on her legs, and tiptoed downstairs to continue my morning routine.  I am a cereal person and currently I am rotating between Wheat Chex, Shredded Wheat, and Wheaties.  Okay, it just dawned on me that I have some sort of unconscious obsession with gluten.  I chose Wheaties, poured a bowl, and topped it with a healthy amount of 2% milk.  2% is the only way to go - non-fat is tasteless, 1% isn't enough, whole milk is too much, and I just can't get used to soy.  Over the weekend I put together new bar stools that allow us to sit beneath our kitchen bar without bruising our legs.  I plopped down on one with my large bowl of grain and flicked my iPhone to life.

On the blazing retina display appeared articles and status messages condemning Miley Cyrus.  I don't watch MTV and haven't since I was a teenager.  In fact, the heyday of my MTV viewing occurred about the time Kirk Cobain unplugged himself.  For some reason I was drawn to this Miley Cyrus VMA embarrassment story like my son is drawn to new Pokemon cards.  I googled the video clip of Cyrus gyrating around Alan Thicke, scratch that, Robin Thicke while they both belted out Blurred lines.  If you want to watch it click below and I will wait for you (fast forward to the 3:00 mark):

Miley and Robin

All done?  Good.  Apparently, the entire teenage-ish world is up in arms over Cyrus' performance, labeling it as "disgusting", "shocking", and "embarrassing".  Cyrus, as part of her rendition of Blurred Lines with Robin Thicke, playful explores her body (and Thicke's too) with a foam finger, and then gyrates her lady parts around Thicke's "bathing suit" area.  Sure, as you can see, it was provocative and out-of-the-ordinary, but why is everyone judging Miley?  Robin Thicke should receive just as much blame as Cyrus, however, no one is pointing any fingers at him.  He confidently strides up behind her, piercing her personal bubble, shakes his legs and raises his arms while she does her thing.  Thicke doesn't move away, he willingly participates.  But Cyrus gets the blame.  Sad.  Men brag and get patted on the back in recognition of their escapades while women get shunned.  Mr. Thicke, you are a disgrace to the entire Seaver family.  I feel bad for Mike, Carol, and Ben.  They deserve better from their father.

I finished my cereal, put the phone on the charger, showered and brushed my teeth.  My son awoke as I was leaving.  I kissed his head and wished him a wonderful day.  The wife laid snoozing in bed while the baby slumbered in her crib.  Quietly, I walked out of the house, into the Prius, and on the road to work.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

Time Heals All Wounds

Look, I am no mystic.  I hold no keys to the kingdom.  My mind functions along the same lines as your's does.  What I am is not special nor unique - but also is not flawed nor condemned.  I haven't found Jesus or met Buddha on the road.  My IQ means nothing in the greater scheme of things.  At some things I am better than other people, at other things I am not as good.  I live relatively.  Or, more precisely, relativity lives me.  My identity is as skewed as a Picasso, my reality as clear as a Franz Kline.  There are more questions in me than answers.  And more answers in me than truths.  Sometimes I think I know better and other times I berate myself for not knowing enough.  Photography is a passion but time is limited.  I'd love to do whatever I like in life but boredom would take care of that exuberance.  The idea of a higher power seems so silly to me, yet when I am at my wit's end I ask for God's protection.  I don't pray.  My meditation sessions are not scheduled or constructive.  I constantly have to reign in my thoughts because left to their own devices they create some ominous fantasies.  My body yearns for food, drink, and sex.  My soul tries to limit all three.  I can be a very dependent person.  I can also claim that I need more alone time.  I've loved and lost the lovers who were no good for me.  I've neglected the lover who is.  I try very hard to give to my wife freely but random selfish moments squander some of those attempts.  Life can seem overwhelming.  Life brings joy that can be found on no other plane of existence.  I long to evolve my body and mind into the fourth dimension but my third dimensional reality keeps me grounded.  When winter drags on I long for summer but when summer enters its third month I fantasize about ten inches of snow.  I am afraid of my vulnerability but forget that others are just as soft inside.  I wish I could freeze the moment, hold my wife and children close, and live out eternity just as things are now.  I hate it when the baby wakes me up twenty minutes before my alarm goes off.  I love to write but I am critical of my work.  I am human but so much more.

What's the point of all this?  I have no idea.  The mind churned and the fingers obeyed.

Thanks for listening.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

A Big Night Out

It started a bit rough.  The baby, who normally wakes up from a nap after an hour, continued to sleep past the time we wanted to leave.  Not that there is anything wrong with a long nap, but we were counting on her normal nap duration.  It didn't happen.  The wife had to wake her up and we all piled into the car.  Then, while heading out of Tacoma, just before the on ramp to Interstate 5, the baby took the contents of her stomach and emptied it all over herself, her car seat, the back seat of the Prius, and on her brother seated on the other side of the car.  We had to detour to the side of the road to commence emergency clean up operations.   We then hit major traffic ten miles south of downtown Seattle.  The closure of highway 99 plus various events in downtown had turned what should have been a 50 minute drive into a 75 minute drive to Wedgewood.  I blame all the stoners heading to Hemp Fest for the unrealistically slow traffic.  Overall, an ominous start to our Big Date in Seattle.

Thank God for a good sister-in-law.  My wife's sister, Jenni, and niece Sam, took both the kids so Rachel and I could spend the day and evening in downtown Emerald City.  I don't worry about my kids on her watch.  Jenni not only is good at entertaining them but also keeps up the routine: Leila got her naps and Rylan brushed his teeth before bed time.  My almost-thirteen year old niece Sam pitches in as well, changing diapers, carrying the baby, and keeping Rylan happy.  We are very lucky.

Even though the trek had a tenuous start the date couldn't have been more fun.  We were free and celebrated our hard-earned freedom at Sazerac Restaurant.  After a filling lunch we headed two blocks north and four blocks west to the Great Wheel on the Seattle waterfront.  Yes, it's just a ferris wheel, but the views from the wheel are amazing (see below).  However, we had to share our compartment with another couple.  There's nothing like dangling 175 feet in the air, in an enclosed glass container, with a random couple you've never met before.  Awkward silence reigned supreme on those three revolutions around the wheel.  But the views of the beautiful Northwest filled our attention, keeping us all distracted.

The last stop in our Rain City tour was The Clink.  My employer, MBC Law Firm, graciously provided us tickets to the Seahawks/Broncos preseason game.  Rachel had never been to a pro football game before but that didn't stop her from getting all decked out in Seahawks regalia (thanks to the sister-in-law).  She knew the Seahawks were a passion of mine and was on board to enjoy the game.  And she looked damn cute in her jersey cheering the Hawks on to a decisive preseason win.  Thanks babe!  At the end of the night we returned to Jenni's house and spent some time chit-chatting with my sister-in-law and niece.  A perfect end to a perfect day.

It's good to have a spouse who is also your best friend.  I respect my wife and do my best to treat her with kindness and care.  She's the soul I choose to spend my life with so I don't take my petty bullshit out on her.  Some guys (and some gals) like to use their spouse as their emotional punching bag.  I do it the opposite way: I treat the one closest to me THE BEST.  I trust her.  I don't second guess her.  I heed her advice.  I do all this because she is the closest to me.  And, because she deserves it.

Peace Out,

 

Nathan J.

The Dog Days of Summer

I am experiencing a bit of a drought in the writing department.  I've started a few new blogs and then stopped mid-paragraph.  It happens to every mediocre blog writer in their career - blogger's block.  You know, I'm not sure why I am putting so much pressure on myself to write something interesting.  So, coupled with the fact that my brain won't produce anything earth-shattering for me to say, I am just going to go on about nothing today.

Big Brother - My wife and I LOVE this show.  It's our favorite and we look forward to that first announcement every summer, "Tonight on Big Brother....!"  I will have to admit, it never fails, every first episode I HATE the cast they've picked for the season (unless they are doing an All-Star show).  They all have perfectly sculpted bodies and perfectly self-absorbed personalities, not to mention that they ALL are at least ten years younger than me.  But as the season progresses I always get hooked on the characters and there is always a few people that I root for.  I know it's just a TV show but it's a way of life for us in the summer.  I've even thought about trying to get on the show but I figure I am a bit too emotionally sensitive to get far in the game.  My wife would do wonders though.  She's emotionally stable, shrewd, intelligent, good looking, and would play a great social game.  If her boobs weren't needed every two to three hours at home I would definitely encourage her to attend an open casting.

Our Neighbors' Dogs - Honestly, I have nothing against dogs, per say, even though I am a cat person (as far as my allergies allow it).  I do however cringe when our neighbor's dogs are barking every ten to twenty minutes throughout the day.  We are surrounded by dogs.  All three neighbors across the street have at least one dog each, our neighbor on the left has one, and both neighbors behind us have dogs.  The neighbor directly behind us has two.  Look, I understand that dogs bark, it's their nature, but it's hard to ignore when you are the ONLY house on the block without one.  But one thing I don't have patience for is being woken up in the middle of a hot summer night by a Pomeranian.  Or seeing one dog jump the fence almost every day and hearing our intoxicated neighbor loudly whistle for him to come back every evening.  Maybe I am just becoming a crotchety old man.  That could be a possibility.

Football Season - When it comes to football I am your typical every day man.  I love football, both college and professional.  I prefer the NFL over college but watch them both just the same.  Of course, the Seahawks are my favorite, the Huskies a close second.  This time of year is my favorite because the season is revving up.  I even enjoy preseason football and I've already watched the Seahawks/Chargers game twice.  My wife, at first, did not share my passion.  But she is coming around.  She watched both playoff games with me last year, even going so far as to keep watching the Seahawks/Falcons game after I had given up on them.  She has more faith then I do.  Autumn is the most glorious time of year.  But I do not choose football over my family.  Thanks to the miracles of DVR I don't have to.

That's it for today.  I hope you enjoyed this Hybrid Husband's meandering ramblings.  Sometimes it feels good to lose a little focus and let yourself float in different directions.  Living involves a lot of responsibility but allows the freedom to just be.  Thanks for listening.

Nathan J.

I Deserve a Break Today

I did my fair share of partying in college.  Living in a fraternity, every night was Guys Night.  I've had my fill of beer bongs, keg stands, and six-in-the-morning-runs-to-Taco-Bell.  That part of my life is over.  I have to admit, at the time it was A LOT of fun.  I made some great friends and thoroughly enjoyed myself.  But again, that lifestyle is in the past for me and I refuse to live in the past.

I think a lot of men get hung up on the old days of "freedom".  They carry this hangup into their marriage and family life.  It rears its ugly head in the phrases, "I just need a night out with the guys!" or "I'll be out late, don't wait up for me."  Sure, this kind of attitude may work in college, or even after college while living in a bachelor pad but when it comes to marriage and family this attitude is completely incongruent with reality.  This constant tension between the old single life and the current responsible life proves too much for some men.  But it doesn't have to be this way.  A new attitude is the antidote.

The old way of life needs to be left behind.  It's over.  It's fun to recall in your mind's eye those rascally nights of closing the bar down and then looking for the perfect street sign to steal but that needs to stay in memory.  Marriage and family requires responsibility.  It requires a man to step up and grow up.  My wife is my best friend.  My children are my fun.  I don't yearn for nights out with the guys or pitchers of Pabst with the co-workers.  Happiness is at home.  I am perfectly content with our nightly routine of getting the kids to bed and watching The Bachelorette with a bowl of Slow Churned.  I love brushing my teeth with my wife and then falling asleep next to her.  Those are the memories I want twenty years from now.  I don't want to look back and remember stumbling through the front door at one in the morning, the wife awake in bed quietly yelling at me and wincing at the smell of my stale beer breath.  My children are only young once so missing out on weekend mornings with them due to a hangover is out of the question.

A man's idea of "fun" has to change.  Fun is family.  Fun is being an equal partner to your wife.  When a man finally comes to this realization he begins to grow up and comes one step closer to becoming a Hybrid Husband.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

TESTIFY!

The traditional perception of the "perfect" family includes the idea of the weekly trek to church.  We all know what that Sunday picture looks like: gussied up kids, mom and dad in their best outfits, the whole family crammed into a pew pretending to listen to the pastor while, in reality, mom's mind is racing about the details of the night's dinner, dad daydreams of pigskin and Budweiser, and the children just pester each other.  Nevertheless, this longstanding belief that a good family attends church EVERY Sunday still persists.  But the cracks in the proverbial dam are forming.  A Hybrid Husband doesn't feel the need to drag his family to the cathedral and put on a show every week.  He's content without this ritual.

Don't get me wrong, I am not against religion or anyone's want/need/right to worship.  It's personal and varies from man to woman.  I am not judging anyone.  But the truth is, for me personally, church isn't a priority in my life or the life of my family.  Going to church doesn't make us good people.  We are perceived as good people by the choices we make in life and how these choices affect the ones closest to us.  Anyone can go to church, that's easy.  It's much harder to change your mindset and let reality be - to stop labeling people - to stop reacting over and over again without thinking first.  It's much harder to practice peace than it is to sing about it.

I grew up Catholic.  I attended mass every Sunday until college.  I went through all the rites and sacraments.  So I've based my opinion on personal experience.  Being born into the religion, I never had a chance to question it.  Catholicism was my reality and it was what was right.  But now, as an adult, I've learned that it's okay to make my own decisions.  It's okay to decide that religion isn't for me right now and that I won't go to hell because I've made that choice.  That's not to say I don't philosophize every now and then or meditate while stuck in traffic.  I just have no interest in attending church.  I'd rather spend a lazy Sunday morning sitting on the couch with my wife, sipping a cup of coffee.  I'd rather play catch on the front lawn with my son.  I'd rather make my daughter giggle.  That's my religion.

Again, please don't be offended by my personal decision.  I respect however you want to live your life (as long as you aren't hurting others) so I would prefer the same respect in return.  Please don't feel threatened, especially if you are Catholic, by the fact that the whole world doesn't share your beliefs and opinions.  Because that's alright.  We'll all float on, anyway.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

Honesty. Honestly.

I took a few days off from my grueling, but rewarding, job at MBC Law Firm last week to attend my in-law family reunion.  It's a yearly tradition where close to 100 of them spend a week camping together in the wilderness.  Many of you may be thinking, "Ugh, a week with the in-laws.  How will I make it through?"  But I love my in-laws.  They are a normal group of folks with normal problems but they are good, honest people, and a hell of a lot of fun to be around.  A Hybrid Husband realizes that his wife had a different upbringing with a different family and he enjoys the flavor that they bring to the table.  He learns from his in-laws instead of being afraid of their apparent differences.  But I digress.

Part of this family reunion is a traditional card game called 31.  Without going into the details of the rules, it's enough to know that five of us sat down to play with only one person crowned winner at the end.  At some point during the game, with all five players still alive, I noticed that another player had miscounted his cards.  No one else caught it and had I not said anything it would have brought him closer to being out of the game. But instead, I said something, and as a result his point total was actually higher than mine costing me a "life" in the game.  Honesty certainly did not pay in this instance.

Again, further into the game, I lost another "life" and then the cards were handed in and shuffled.  I realized a few moments later that due to the way I played the last round I should have lost two "lives" and been down to one remaining life, an inch away from being out of the game.  I chose honesty again and turned in a second "life".  Honesty bit me in the butt again and upon losing the following round I was out of the game.  The first player out of the game that is!  The remaining four players continued on without me and even sang me the shameful "You Lost" song: So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye!  Doot ditta doot da doot da do, doot ditta doot da doot!"  It was a bitter pill to swallow.

So you are waiting for the highlight of this story, aren't ya?  The happy ending?  The moral?  Well, just as in the movies, this card game indeed had an interesting twist ending.  You see, the game ended with my son being crowned the victor and earning himself a cool $3.75, which to an eight year old is a king's ransom.  Had I not been honest, the game would have played out completely different.  The cards would have been dealt in other orders than the reality they were dealt in.  My son may not have won at all, or at least would not have won in the same way.  And it actually gave me great pleasure to see him win, more so than for me to take the small pot of coins.  My honesty was part of the entire plan, the future I could not see at the time of my confessions.

One never knows how his or her actions will play out in the future.  What may seem like an immediate loss may prove to be a more fruitful gain down the road.  So don't give in to the dark side just yet.  Remain strong and follow your heart.  And always remember that honesty IS the best policy!

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

My Semi-Epiphany

As a person the Hybrid Husband still makes mistakes.  I am not immune to the human appetite, to human needs and wants.  My mind works in much the same way as your's does.  And as a human being, with a fallible intellect, I sometimes project my wants on to other people.  In other words, I create a mental image of who I think someone is and then, when that person does not respond in the way that I want, I get upset and change the mental picture again to correspond with the perceived slight.  I do this a lot.  I create mental images constantly.  It's a difficult habit to break.

The closest person in my life - emotionally and physically - is my wife.  And the most detailed mental image of a person I have created is "her".  This image has been in the making for over eleven years and includes all my interactions with "her".  It includes both imagined disappointments and assumed delights.  Constantly, I am comparing this colossal abstract mental Rachel with the Rachel right in front of me.  If her current interaction coincides with what I want I am happy, if it does not I am either angry or sad.  But it's all built on a mental image.  It's all rubbish that I choose to carry around.  She is who she is, no matter how I think she should be or who I think she can be.

And that's my semi-epiphany.  I say "semi" because I am still human and still learning.  I know my habits will rear their ugly head again so I am careful with my words and hesitant to say I'm reformed.  But I know that I have to let my wife be who she is instead of trying to make her be what I want.  It's all said in the statement, "If you love something, let it go..."  I am willing to let go of my expectations.  I am willing to end the control.  I am very willing to let go of the paranoia, the jealousies, the bitterness, and just let her be.  And at the same time, let the world be.  It's not easy.  It might take a lifetime to perfect, but I have all the time in the world to practice.

Thanks for reading.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

How I (Almost) Became a Television Superstar

California has a way about it - a way of making your eyes sparkle and your mind churn through ideas of stardom.

It really all started in Burbank.  I loved the feel of Burbank.  It's hard to describe but I felt like I could live there someday.  Maybe the city had hypnotized me a bit or maybe it was the fact that Warner Brothers Studios could be my backyard.  Either way, when my wife and I visited in May of 2012 and were Ellen show audience members, my Burbank crush began and my ill-conceived thoughts of Hollywood success were born.

Thank God my wife is a realist, a down-to-earth soul, a grounded human being or I might still be in Burbank, loitering around the backdoor of Ellen's set.  I doubt many would blame me though.  If you were there, dancing your legs silly in front of a live studio audience, you would have caught the bug too.  When we first arrived at Warner Brothers, to sit in on a taping of Ellen, I was skeptical of the others around me.  There were a lot of people who I believed were faking excitement.  It was as if they were trying to stand out just so Ellen would notice.  I relayed that message to my wife who, wisely, informed me that "if you can't beat them, join them."  And so I did.

While the show was taping I was a truly eager audience member.  I cheered loudly, laughed hysterically, and danced manically.  In between the final segment and a bonus segment with surprise guest Will Smith I was picked to dance-off against another man in front of the crowd.  I took it seriously and danced my already lacking butt off.  The crowd got behind me and started chanting my name, "NATE! NATE! NATE!".  Who could blame me for getting emotionally jacked up?  I felt invincible.  My legs channeling Mr. Jackson.  The whole time cameras were rolling as Ellen doesn't miss out on any audience antics during or between segments.  Unbeknownst to me, Will Smith was watching the live feed from backstage and I must have entertained him because when he came out he mentioned me and how silly my moves were.  Wow.  The Fresh Prince noticed little ol' me.  I was blushing and unprepared for what happened next.

During the commercial break Will Smith came up to our seats and pulled me back up in front of everybody.  I didn't realize at the time but I was Albert to his Hitch as he showed me the proper way to dance.  Even though it lasted mere minutes the whole moment was surreal.  And up close Will Smith looked EXACTLY like Will Smith!

Walking back to our hotel, after the show, I kept running different scenarios through my head:  "Ellen will call me when we get home and invite me back to be a recurring character."  "Will Smith is going to send me a Facebook message and ask me to dance with him on tour."  "Hollywood is going to notice me when Ellen's episode airs on TV and I'll get a movie deal out of this."  "Wow, if Will Smith noticed my moves I must be an excellent dancer!"

One year and two months later I've received no phone calls from area code 818, 747, or 323.  My Facebook inbox consists of only messages from friends (who are much loved, but unfortunately not Will Smith).  And I realized I am no Fred Astaire.  But I have a wonderful life.  I am married to a wonderful wife who sees reality as it is and keeps my head screwed on straight.  My employer, MBC Law Firm, continues to thrive and continues to treat me well.  I've got no complaints.

Although I would love to be listening to Ellen through an earpiece while roaming Home Depot spouting song lyrics in a tuneless tone, I am happy where life has taken me and look forward to the future.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

That's Some Heavy Sh*t

I feel like I've got to bring it down today and lay something heavy on y'all.  As anyone who has read my blog knows I consider myself a Hybrid Husband - a husband that not only weedwacks and bangs nails but also a husband who supports his wife and loves to shop for himself.  I understand though that writing a blog opens up my private feelings to criticism.  And the Hybrid Husband has experienced just that.

Recently, another human being alluded to the fact that the Hybrid Husband was gay. It was implied in something they expressed to me anonymously and was meant to be half joke half truth (as far as they saw it).  At first I was upset but I pushed those feelings aside.  Then I thought about taking the high road and not saying anything at all, you know, Gandhi style.  But I am no saint, so I decided on a middle path and here we are discussing it.

The thing that bothers me the most about being called gay is that this person believes "gay" to be something lesser, something to be used to knock someone down.  Obviously, they've never listened to Macklemore's Real Love.  It's disappointing that people still don't realize the hate in their every day speech.  Just because something is different doesn't mean it's something to fear.  Difference is an opportunity, not something to run from and point fingers at.  Difference is change.  Difference leads to greatness.  Difference is variety in a world that could so easily be bland.  Difference is a rainbow of all colors, visible and invisible.  Einstein was different.  Jesus was different.  Tesla was different.  Lincoln was different.  Michael Jordan was different.  Need I go on?

I enjoy who I am.  I enjoy coming home to my family, lifting my baby girl in the air and hearing her giggle.  I enjoy getting on the floor and playing with my son.  I can't be happier for my wife and her success.  I look forward to heading to Nordstrom for a 7 Diamonds shirt and a pair of 7 for all mankind jeans.  I get giddy thinking about putting the kids to bed and watching the Real Housewives of New Jersey with my woman.  And I will not pay any mind to taunts from people who are scared of reality's next evolution.

I wish for you all peace and understanding.  Get out of your head and rid yourself of concepts and labels.  Enjoy the universe that surrounds you.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

Confronting a Dangerous Obsession!

The Hybrid Husband sees it all around him, but he tries to ignore it, pushes it underground.  It's everywhere but lurks in the shadows.  And just when he's forgotten about it it jumps up into his face and yells, "CAN I BUY MORE POKEMON CARDS?!"

Yes, Pokemon cards, my son's new obsession.  You never know what your children will love and what your children will hate.  Sometimes they take on personality traits of their parents but most of the time they surprise you with an odd inkling.  My son's inkling is crazy little creatures on yellow-backed plastic coated paper:

He can't get enough of these things!  I actually went garage sale-ing with him (baby in tow) over the weekend and to our surprise all three garage sales had cards for sale.  Way to stoke his obsession Tacoma!  My wife and I have a plan to curb his interest in Pokemon cards.  But it's a bit tough for me as my normal response is to give my child whatever he wants, even if it might cause him years of therapy as an adult.  Discipline isn't my strong suit.  But I must remain emboldened because this obsession could overrun me too.  Then you might see me trolling your neighbor's yard sale this Friday, combing through piles of broken plastic Hot Wheels sets, hoping to catch a glimpse of just one magical yellow card.

MUST SAY NO!

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

But Wait, There's More!

So I had this dream last night....

I was riding in the back seat of some indistinguishable motor vehicle with another gentleman.  My counterpart began to tell me about a recent work experience where he had been fired for dying.  Yes, that's right, his employer was letting him go due to his impending death.  Immediately it clicked in my dream ego's dream mind that this was some form of employment discrimination.  I reached into my mystic dream wallet and pulled out an MBC Law Firm business card and handed it to the unlucky soul sitting next to me.  No hesitation, I just knew the law firm could help.

I've never considered myself a good salesman, but what's interesting about last night's sleep occurrence was that, at least in my dream, I was confident about myself and about what I was selling.  Maybe in reality, in rock-solid three dimensions, I could be a good salesman too?!

I just want to take a minute to tell you about our salon, Bella Capelli.  My wife runs and operates the establishment.  She's a damn good stylist and always produces a high-quality product.  We don't spend money on marketing, we let her work speak for itself.  And we've grown our business, albeit slowly, based on that premise.  No need to push in people's faces the fact that a medium-length hair full foil with toner, shampoo, cut, and style only costs $105.00.  Never do I have to mention that we've been in business for ten years or that my wife has been doing hair since high school.  And I have enough modesty to not say that clients enjoy free snacks, free Keurig coffee, and free Twix bars.  No.  No advertising required.  Word of mouth is the best and most stable form of marketing.

Tonight, when my eyeballs begin moving back and forth rapidly, I hope to continue my marketing dreams.  I may be a better husband than a salesman in length, width, and height, but in the fourth dimension I am a regular Zig Ziglar.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

Maui, Manliness, and Goldfish Crackers

The title says it all.

Need I go on?

If you insist...

Maui - a small island in the chain of Hawaii.  No ka oi, Maui.  When I am feverishly typing away at the keyboard or intently solving a network communication error at MBC Law Firm, I find that my body takes over and my mind slowly drifts to daydreams of warm island breezes and large island mai tais.  This Hybrid Husband's happy place is Hawaii - but not the cluttered beaches of Waikiki or the black lava rock beaches of The Big Island.  No, my true happy place is the initial drive from the Kahului airport, leaving the sugar cane fields behind us, rounding the corner toward Lahaina as the Pacific splashes up onto the expanse of the windshield, and eventually settling in on the shores of Kaanapali.  In fact, I am there right now, I can taste the salt on my lips - the coconut smell of the wife's tanning lotion tickling my nostrils.  It's a wonderful place, Maui.  It's a place all Hybrid Husbands should visit with their families one fine day.  It's a paradise that will forever be on your mind.

Manliness - a large word used by, sometimes, large individuals to pigeonhole themselves into a cliche.  Let's face it, men are competitive.  We all know it.  We all watch the NFL, the NBA, MLB and NHL.  We see how jacked up emotionally men get over winning.  And we see how they cry like my teething four month old over losing.  Manliness is a typical word in a typical man's description of himself or his activities.  However, manliness is limiting and superficial.  I prefer to undescribe myself, to live without label.  A Hybrid Husband is always in dual mode so he never settles for any one defining characteristic.  It's okay for a Hybrid Husband to at one minute be drilling holes and the next minute changing a poopy diaper.  A Hybrid Husband has no problem telling his wife how much he loves her and appreciating the fact that she's a strong independent woman.  Manliness is limiting.  A Hybrid Husband has no time for restraint.

Goldfish Crackers - I enjoy them.  I like to snack on them, but only the regular cheddar kind.  I like to put only one in my mouth and cut it in half with my teeth before I chew it up.  They are also great in handfuls.

Well, I hope I've entertained you - or even informed you.  I appreciate the few who took the time to read this blog.  Now I must get to work...daydreaming about swimming sea turtles, vibrant rainbows, and swaying palm trees.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

The Rhubarb Festival

As fulfilling and challenging as my job at MBC Law Firm is I still find myself looking forward to the weekend, especially Sunday when the family can be together without distraction.  A Hybrid Husband enjoys family time, especially a family outing.  And that's exactly what took place yesterday.

Awhile back, January 2013 to be exact, my wife and I went to C.I. Shenanigans in Tacoma, WA for dinner.  As we were leaving we heard a female/male duo playing guitar and singing some incredible notes in the restaurant lounge.  We ended up staying for their whole set and getting to know them a bit.    Their name, Scott and Dani Band, their style, a bit rocky and folksy with a lot of country.  And we loved them.

Fast Forward ---------------------------->>>>>>>>>  Sunday, July 14.  Scott and Dani band are playing at The Sumner Rhubarb Festival!  Yes, rhubarb.  Not the stuffy creature you run with at Cheney Stadium, the actual stalky plant that grows out of the ground.  All four of us boarded the RAV4 and headed out to Sumner to see Scott and Dani play.  Both kids behaved themselves, the baby hardly uttered a peep.  The music was wonderful.  It's hard to explain without actually seeing them live, but Scott and Dani are professional and polished and original.  I am amazed they haven't stepped on to the stage of The Voice yet!  Dani's voice is superb - American Idol-esque.  And Scott's guitar playing, well, let's just say he played so damn good his fingers were literally bleeding.

What a wonderful sunny music-filled afternoon.  We are grateful for the appearance of Scott and Dani's music in our lives.  I've included a link below to their YouTube video.  It's good stuff:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihTT2Eur-qI&feature=youtu.be

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

(Scott and Dani)

Hybrid Husband Comes Clean...

Okay, I know it's only my third blog and all.  I know I am supposed to keep the magic going - I'm supposed to dazzle you.  But today I am going to break tradition.

You should sit down for this.  The Hybrid Husband is coming clean.

I am not happy 100% of the time.  There, I said it!  Wait.  My shoulders still feel heavy.  So let me put it another way, the Hybrid Husband feels the stress!  Hmm...

As anyone who has raised children knows they are a FULL TIME JOB - especially little ones who can't speak up for themselves.  But just like any job they come with perks and benefits and sometimes with a large bonus in their diaper.  However, when you are working full time @ MBC Law Firm, trying to stay fit, keeping a marriage strong, watering the lawn, washing the car, managing the finances, making dinner, etc. the stress builds and the pressure mounts.  And I'm the type of person who takes stress and builds it up mentally until it is a colossal pile of steaming poo!

And that's where therapy comes in.  Hybrid Husbands need a tune up.  Especially when they are red-lining five or six days a week.  I started seeing my therapist again on Tuesday.  She's wonderful but one session is no cure.  I have another scheduled for this coming Tuesday and I assume the Tuesday following.  Sure, there is a part of me that is embarrassed to say this but there is also a larger part of me who knows it helps.  I don't have to endure this alone and I don't have to heap my BS onto my wife either.  If only to blab for an hour to an objective listener, therapy works.

So any other hybrid husbands out there who want to do the manly thing and keep your issues to yourself, I say, go ahead.  I just know what works for me.  And getting it out and getting some mental help sure feels a lot better.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

Ambulance Chaser No More!

Contrary to popular belief, attorneys are in the business of helping people, especially personal injury attorneys.  At MBC Law Firm, over the past ten years, I've seen many instances of people with catastrophic injuries and people who have lost loved ones.  We've helped thousands recover some semblance of a life.  And many may scoff (usually people who have never needed the help of an attorney), but what we do is NOBLE.  If you could see what we see, if you could witness the pain that people bring to us, if you could understand that yes, nothing can turn back the clock and make everything 100% okay, but that we provide a service that allows people a way to move forward, you would agree with our nobility.

At MBC, we don't take a case where either a) the client isn't really injured, or b) the client wasn't injured at the hands of another.  We help those who need help.  And that's why I enjoy working for MBC Law Firm.  I feel that I play a small part (churning out numbers and fixing computers) in an organization that not only helps those who come as clients, but help those in the greater community (United Way, American Red Cross, American Cancer Society, and the list goes on).

So I plan to stay at MBC Law Firm until I retire.  Sure, it's a job and does involve its stresses.  But I enjoy it.  I enjoy the challenge of my job and I enjoy watching the attorneys battle for our clients.

And then it's time to go home and don a new hat.  That's what a Hybrid Husband does.  In my next post I'll get into more detail about that magic moment of the day when I cross over from employee to co-captain of the family.

Thanks for listening.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.

The Hybrid-Husband Breaks His Silence

I've told my wife on a few occasions that I feel like a hybrid-husband.  The old 1950s style hubby (you know, go to work while the wife runs the home and family) does not apply.  Our family would not survive on one income, plus my wife enjoys working - especially owning her own business.  We both work and we both run a household and a family.  We share all responsibilities.  The husband/wife dichotomy isn't very apparent under our roof.

Due to this modern family setup my life can be pretty demanding.  For instance, here is a road map of my typical weekday:

1.  Get up at 5:40 AM
2.  Leave for the office (MBC Law Firm) 6:15 AM
3.  Workout out in the office gym 6:30 - 7:30 AM
4.  Account and fix computers/networks for my benevolent employer, MBC Law Firm 7:30 AM - 3:00 PM
5.  Arrive home, grab the baby, pick up 8 year old son at school  3:15 PM
6.  Change diapers, console crying baby, find something to keep my 8 year old busy, make dinner (all of which are done while wife is working in our basement salon, Bella Capelli) 3:30 - ?
7.  Welcome my wife upstairs after finishing her appointments - could be anytime between 5:00 and 8:30 PM
8.  Get kids settled and in bed 8:00 PM
9.  Watch TV with the wife 8:00 - 9:30 PM
10.  Fall asleep and subconsciously anticipate the 5:40 AM alarm

I really don't want to come off as a complainer, because I'm not.  And I hope I am writing this blog to help others and not as some quasi-therapeutic attempt to help myself.  Either way, being a hybrid-husband is very challenging but allows for many rewards: a son who adores me, a baby who giggles at me, and a wife who supports me, to name a few.

And let's not forget the other half of my life, MBC Law Firm.  In the next blog post I'll explain why I've dedicated the last ten years of my life to this employer and I why I plan to retire there.

Peace Out,

Nathan J.