I'm All About The Nerd Play (a.k.a. Takot sa Bola)

So I'm a nerd. That's what they used to call me in school. Didn't like it then. Love it now. For the most part.

Used to hang out in the library sniffing old hardbound books on the occult, the paranormal and science fiction. My library card was my best friend. Well, I had a few friends, but it never occurred to me then that they were nerds, too. Or various other iterations of nerdidity, i.e., dweebs, geeks and dorks. Just guys I played RPG and traded comic books with. Watched some porn with. And got punished with for not bringing our Phys. Ed. uniforms.

If I'd never met beer in college, I'd be an even bigger nerd, and God knows I probably would never have met Nike or had Noah or get this awesome job I now have.

So now I think I have just the right amount of nerd in me, although it's something I've been questioning all the time since becoming a dad. Noah's growing up fast and, while it's amusing to see how he takes after me in many ways, it also terrifies me --I'm afraid I'll soon be in for a humiliating experience.

Like, God forbid someone accidentally throws a basketball my way one day while we're walking the dogs and I fumble it in front of my son. It almost happened last week, but I was smoking, so I had an excuse not to try to catch it. I got Noah to run after it and toss it back to the players. And, whew, it wasn't a bad throw.

I suck at physical activity -- wait, let's narrow that down. I suck at sports. I am horribly, hopelessly uncoordinated. All the action I've seen at Wii Sports Resort or Arkham Asylum or Final Fantasy or Soul Calibur in Xbox do not qualify as sport activities. And it's been years since I played frisbee or a mean game of badminton or climb a mountain (which I only do to get drunk at the top).

So my dilemma, while I've taught my son to be this imaginative, wisecracking charmer, who the heck is going to teach him to play basketball!?! Sure, there's summer clinics and P.E. in school, but what will I say when he asks to play a quick pick up game with me?

I have these ready answers:

1. "Uh, ok, turn on the Wii."

2. "Not right now, son, can't you see I'm busy benchpressing these boxes of comics?"

3. "Later! It's almost time for How I Met Your Mother."

I wonder how long I have til he susses that his dad's just a big nerd. I'm praying it won't matter. Because I really do live for that gleam of admiration in his eyes.

All of Us Under Your Spell

Found this video I made for Noah's first birthday. As for what it says at the end -- so far, so good.

Welcome to the Ride

One December afternoon five years ago, I found myself in a mad rush from St. Luke’s Hospital to SM Centerpoint Department Store’s baby section. After spending about 2 weeks in a hospital room for premature difficulties, my wife was about to give birth and I suddenly, mistakenly thought we had bought nothing for the baby: mattresses, feeding bottles, a sterilizer, diapers…!

When I got to the department store, my mind began to spin…I was confused, I had no shopping list! I grabbed everything I could get my hands on, everything I thought our little Noah Caleb would need. I surely gave the salesladies a tough time asking for tips, for the best brands, the proper sizes, the right textures, and they all had to be blue!

And then just as I was about to approach the cashier, I realized, I remembered, Nike, my wife with who I am happily un-married, had already bought everything we needed and tucked all of little Noah’s supplies in a corner at home by his crib. And I remembered I was even with her when we bought some of those things!

It slowly dawned on me how unprepared I was for fatherhood. Though I was with Nike for every pre-natal check up, I suddenly felt unready, inadequate and afraid. How easily my nerves frayed. What kind of dad would I be? I never saw my dad panic when I was a kid!

It wasn’t fair, I thought. Nike had 9 months to get used to and prepare for parenthood, while I was busy working! The reality hit hard. I’m going to be a dad. I cried a little and said a silent prayer asking God to not let me screw up. (I told you guys this was going to be sappy). Then I realized the salesladies were staring.

But right there, at Cashier 17, a father was born.

I went back to the hospital after 7pm that night – it was coding day – I could’ve gotten a ticket! -- just in time for Nike to wake up and make fun of my frantic faux pas.

Noah was born a few days later, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Saw him corkscrew his way to life in one smooth, expert motion, I did! And I cut the cord!

I’ve been staring at my son ever since, every night, thinking what good things I could’ve done to deserve such a beautiful blessing, because God’s list is probably short. And I still find myself saying the same prayer I said at the cashier.

We could be dancing, playing the Xbox, making Lego robots. We could be reading or talking about school, but always at the back of my mind, I am all at once marveling at the boy, thanking God, praying I don’t screw up and keeping my chest from exploding. When you’re a parent, multi-tasking becomes a cinch.

Fatherhood’s been fun, mostly. Just that some parts of the past five years (I’m looking at you, Delgado Hospital) were extremely traumatic, I may write about them here or I may not.

This blog is for Noah Caleb Lorenzo Parlade. So someday he’ll know his dad always did his best, and that even as I am making all this up as I go along, I (and his mom) have the best intentions for him. So he knows, I never mean to screw up.

So he knows what a wild, awesome ride he’s taking me on.