My quest to fend off aging and stay healthy is never-ending. Part of this is getting a good night's rest. I have been trying for nearly two years to get in a routine of going to bed at a reasonable time so I can get my 6 - 8 hours of sleep in.

I haven't been very successful.

I pick up the effort every few months, most recently, this month. I've set my knockout for the night time at 11pm (ish) give or take a few minutes to make sure my teen isn't goofing off in his room instead of sleeping.

Lately there's been a new threat to getting a solid night's sleep and it isn't either of the kids. It is the wife.

On Tuesday morning after staying up until 2 am to study, my wife bursts into our bedroom and addresses me with a military man's sternness:

"Eric! I don't know where my phone is."

I don't know who I am or where I am. I look at her like she's a loaf of bread.

She repeats herself, louder this time and I recognize where I am, who I am and who this is that's speaking to me. Now that I'm awake, why is the biggest question on my mind.

"Your phone?" I ask, incredulously.

She explains to me that she doesn't know where I put it and she needs to set her alarm to get up in the morning. I remind her that I gave it to her just in case she needed it while she was studying. She claims no recollection of this. I stare out into the darkness, jump out of bed, march down our new set of stairs, stomp through the living room to the exact spot where she was sitting and find the phone sitting right next to the laptop she was using to study. I retrace the path I took, stomping the entire way, knowing I wasn't going to get anything close to an apology, grumbling loudly to myself and hand her the phone. She could have used my phone (which was right next to my sleeping body) or the house phone to call the phone to locate it.

"It was right next to your laptop on the couch!"

"Why are you yelling?!" she asks, yelling back at me. "I didn't know it was there!"

What I didn't know was why she didn't look. Now the issue was no longer that I had been awakened for no reason at all. I wasn't awakened for late night kisses or an "I love you," I couldn't refuse. It was for a phone that had been beside her. The issue now was that I was yelling in the middle of the night and have a bad attitude when I wake up.

But I didn't wake up. I was snatched from sleep. And I stayed awake for another 2 hours trying to go back there.

On Wednesday morning, (the very next day, Wednesday) at 4 am, my wife bursts into our bedroom having spent most of the night asleep in our daughter's room. It happens when we read her bedtime stories. I hope we're not the only ones.

"Eric, why are all the lights on in the house?!"

"Uhhhh...." is all I can manage.

Slowly as I came to myself and realized once again, who I was, where I was, and when I was, the question again arose, why in the hamfat am I being awakened for no reason at all?

Immediately, I was interrogated as to why all the lights were left on downstairs. When it comes to wasting anything in our house there's only one culprit --- my son.

"You know I didn't do that," I say. "I don't understand, if you saw the lights on, then why didn't you just turn them off?"

"I did but it was jarring to see lights on downstairs with all the lights off upstairs."

"The alarm is on," I interject.

"I didn't know that. I mean did you go to sleep before him [our son] and just leave him up to his own devices?"

Yes, he had a party with the bottle of Patron and Mount Gay in the cabinet, is what I wanted to say. "Uhm, no..." I said too tired to be angry, "I was the last one asleep but he went back downstairs to get some water. I don't believe our electric bill is going to hit the roof over four extra hours of lighting in two rooms. Seriously."

Whatever else was said didn't matter. Again there was no apology. The comforter was snatched off of me as she got comfortable. Then the pillow I was lying on was yanked out from underneath my head.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, stupified beyond stupification.

"Oh, you were using that?" she asked back. "Sorry." She pushed the pillow into my face, turned over and went to sleep. And men are the bad guys, I said in my head.

By the time I got comfortable again my daughter began to sneeze in her sleep until she was awake. I got up, checked on her and eventually managed to get some shut eye forty-five minutes before my alarm went off.

Love is...

Have You Subscribed Yet? * Are You On Facebook? * Do You Tweet?

Yesterday, I asked Fans of the MMWH Facebook Page, who are wives, to complete the following statement:

"A wife is a woman who _____________."

These are some of the responses I received so far:

"...has to be strong enough to deal with her husband's foolishness and still allow him to be a man."

"...is always there no matter their faults, trusting in him, makes him feel safe and secure, being his strength when he's weak. just loving him for better or worst..."

"...loves the Lord and shows it through her actions toward her husband."

"...knows who she is, what shes worth and why she means so much to her husband. loves God and reflects that love in her interactions and words...and absence of words... respects that they're equally human and is able to gracefully handle imperfect circumstances and situations for the sake of the team (marriage)."

"...has many roles. Chef, Maid, Nurse, Mommy, Handyman, Personal Shopper --- the list goes on an on..."

"...holds it down no matter what even when he is wrong or right."

"...is her husband's everything. They have become one in God's eyes. She completes him and he has no complaints (well, sometimes, lol)."

"...means the world to her husband , when he is in her world there is no place he would rather be."

It is interesting to watch the dynamic. Some of the statements here are directly related to husbands, suggesting the condition of "wifedom" has everything to do with what a husband does or doesn't do. Some statements speak to teamwork and the nuances of marriage. Some are deeply spiritual. Mixed in with many of the above are assertions of wife should be, period, independent of a husband or what kind of day they might be having. Personally, I like these the most because the focus is on the self which ultimately makes the whole better. But that's just my opinion. What's yours?

What would you add to this growing list? What thoughts do you have on what you've just read?

Have You Subscribed Yet? * Are You On Facebook? * Do You Tweet?

I'm not the guy with my arms out...

I've been blessed to not suffer from writer's block. But I can be distracted from writing like nobody's business. April was a month that knocked me on my you know what. It was a time of change, some good, some bad. Either way, all of it came together to prevent my brain from focusing that much on Makes Me Wanna Holler.

And here they are in no particular order:

Boxing: Not so much boxing but remolding my schedule to fit that of someone who works out --- intensely. This covers everything from what I've been eating, when I've been eating, what I've taken out of my diet, and when I sleep. I've actually had to start sleeping to get a decent night's rest in order to function. You'd think this would be obvious, but bad habits learned over the last four years of my daughter's life has made the obvious not so clear.

My Wife: As the woman I've pledged my love to immerses herself more and more into her MBA program and starts telling more econ and statistics jokes, more and more of the responsibilities here at home are piling up on me. I've gone from being Dad, to House Administrator. All I do these days is tell little people what to do, drive them around and feel like I'm going in circles in the process. I've even begun to start cooking again --- something I did daily and effortlessly as a bachelor. Now, I've either knock a meal out of the park or I sit at the head of the table with my kids looking at me like, "Why are you feeding me this?" Then once I get everyone to bed I have all the time I need to dig into the pressing matters of my own life. I take a deep breath, crack my knuckles and pass out for the night.

Photography: I booked 3 gigs between the end of March and the month of April. Easy enough on the shooting end, not so easy on the editing end. The beautiful thing about my relationship with photography is that each photo session is leaps and bounds better than the last one, but then I have to still deal with the one before it, trying to exact perfection and spending a lot of time doing it. I'm also building another blog and doing it very very slowly.

The Future: This one comes up daily. I spend a lot of time thinking of my family and what we're going to be doing in the next six to eight months.

My New Smartphone: I am not a proponent of smartphones. Being connected at all times is something I've always dreaded. My wife decided to switch my plan to hers and get me the same new shiny smartphone she has. She told me I didn't have to use all the features if I didn't want to...Like that was going to happen...after a week of staring at the box and holding on to my old phone which was duct taped together, it took all of a day for me to connect my new phone to everything I do online. Now it rings and sends me notifications constantly. And I'm too weak to ignore it.

AAU Basketball: It was my idea to have my son try out for AAU basketball in his age group. I wanted him to play on a competitive level. I wanted him to actually try out for a team. Something he has yet to do at his high school (they just sign up). He made the team, he's practicing two nights a week and playing four games each weekend. Sometimes the games are back to back. Sometimes, there are huge lags of time in between. Sometimes they are all under one roof. Sometimes they are located no less than 20 miles from home. My goal was to wear him out. It didn't dawn on me that the same would happen to me.

My Son: If I ever thought I was running out of material for this blog, all I had to do is sit still for a couple days and let my son simply exist. Over the course of this past month, even with the revelation that he may be learning disabled, this boy has given me enough material to blog about until Father's Day. Just to catch you up: I currently own all his time. His cell phone hours are restricted. And the door to his room is missing (I took it down). Why? Because my son has decided in his infinite teenage wisdom that since he doesn't like school, he's simply going to stop participating in it. He had it all figured out. He'd be social instead. He blamed everyone for his shortcomings --- from teachers to fellow students to that creature named I Don't Know. And then his grades came in. A horrific piece of paper I affectionately call his Concerto in F Flat. Not for lack of understanding, but rather lack of effort as in not turning in homework or showing up to class. And he's become a victim of the very technology (emails and IMs) that led him to believe he could pull a fast one and not get caught. This past Monday I sent out 10 emails to his teachers and received about 20 in return. He's not a bad boy, he's actually pretty well behaved. He's just misdirected. Stay tuned for the redirection.

Stay tuned for the blogging...


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Someone I know recently launched a blog and her second post inspired me, so I decided I'd follow suit today in a similar vein with some food for thought...

It's better to live alone in the corner of an attic than with a quarrelsome wife in a lovely home.
Proverbs 21:9 (NLT)

Better to live in a desert than with a quarrelsome and ill-tempered wife.
Proverbs 21:19 (NIV)

A worthy wife is her husband’s joy and crown; the other kind corrodes his strength and tears down everything he does.
Proverbs 12:4

And what about men?

The man who finds a wife finds a good find; she is a blessing to him from the Lord.
Proverbs 18:22

But if any man does not provide for his own, and especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.
1 Timothy 5:8

A husband must also love his wife as he does his own self.
Ephesian 5:28,29

Husbands must "honor" their wives.
1 Peter 3:7

Her price is far above rubies.
Proverbs 31:10

Everyone all together, now...

The commandments, "Do not commit adultery," "Do not murder," "Do not steal," "Do not covet," and whatever other commandment there may be, are summed up in this one rule: "Love your neighbor as yourself." Love does no harm to its neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.
Romans 13:9-10 (NIV)

You don't have to be a believer to know love is the message. How many believers acknowledge love is the message but then don't give their all to put this into play? (Am I raising my hand by myself?)

I'd even argue that most days those who aren't all "churched" up get love in a way that those who are rarely do. But that's a different conversation, not for this blog...ever.

Feel free to share, if you dare.

Peace.

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As I breathe in the aroma of my cologne (Comme De Garcons) I pause and think back on the month of quasi silence I imposed on myself via this blog.

In September I will be 39...

When I was 23 I wrote in a journal what and who I'd be at 39.

I'd be...

• wealthy.
• wise.
• established.
• a brand new family man.
• an owner of at least two homes (nothing fancy, just economically sound).
  
• a frequent renter of yachts.
• world traveled.
• newly married to an exotic brown beauty who spoke English with an accent and didn't get American culture.
• filled with peace, happiness and a simple, basic relationship with my God, regardless of the challenges hurled my way.
  
• happily focused on the years ahead of me having dispensed with all the ones behind me (most important of them all).
  

Almost everything I've ever written in this one particular journal has come to pass whether I actually remember writing it or not.

Almost none of the above came to pass, and that that has didn't in the fashion I imagined.

The only coincidence (in my thinking) seems to be that my father had me at the ripe old age of 39. Never wanting to have children at such an old age, I completely understand now the logic behind being an established man before an established father....

The 2nd Sunday in January, I went to church with a friend and her mother and cried through the entire service, especially the sermon. My heart was in pieces and my soul didn't understand why, my mind was sorting out logical answers and my emotions were all over the place --- sad, encouraged, furious, fearful. The only thing my spirit could do was cry and with my tears, poison dripped out of me.

What poison? You might be asking yourself. What in the hamfat is he talking about? Maybe he needs another month off?

I spent most of the last decade hearing from the people closest to me about how I was too...

• too sensitive...
• too emotional...
• too irritable...
• too immature...
• too selfish..
• too cranky...
• too moody...
• too detached...
• too cold...
• too dramatic...
• too sensitive...(I know I already wrote this)...
• too self-centered...

I won't debate the truth in the above. I am not the recipient of my actions, so I can't speak on how I'm received by others. But I didn't hear much else in the opposite direction. And a weird thing happened. I began to search for compliments, hunger for my ego to be stroked, get desperate for kind words, want accolades for the most basic of activities, such as doing what I'm supposed to do around the house and doing what I'm supposed to be doing with my kids. I even wonder if this blog evolved into a slight cry for approval from all of you, my loyal readers. Worst of all I began going over and above the call of duty seeking approval and getting upset when that didn't happen.

But if I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, even if I think it's to a superior degree, isn't it simply what I'm supposed to be doing? And why get a cookie for that?

I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. What a pickle.

As 2009, the worst year of the worst decade of my life, ended, I looked in the mirror and didn't know who I was and I hated what I had become. I hated talking about it on this blog (or not talking about it). I hated living it in my skin. I needed to step off, to find me, to rediscover me, to be at peace with me, even if that means being at war (or not at ease) with everyone else in the process...

So I stepped off, prayed for peace, sought quietude and began to reteach myself how to be me, and be a Man, Dad & Husband at the same time. It required and will continue to require the precision of a surgeon, the tactical savvy of a sergeant and the knowledge of an archeologist.

Interestingly enough, people in these positions typically utter three words to their teams when things get critical and it's time to get serious and roll up their sleeves.

And that's what I'm doing and will continue to do, God willing. So that by the time I hit 39 in September, you and I can all celebrate the beauty of life, the power of marriage, the strength of family, the prosperity that life has to offer despite it's bumps and bruises.

I'm going in because as I approach 40 I don't want to sit around patting my belly reminiscing about long gone days, never to be lived again. I want to be able to be all that I can for my family, my community and my country. And I'm dead serious. Because if I'm not living life to the fullest then I might as well be...dead. Better that than miserable.

Come along for the ride and I promise you'll have some fun along the way. Thanks for being patient in January. I only lost a few of you and I gained several more somehow with only 4 posts.

That's it for now. Tune in for more in the coming days.

Don't forget to contribute to the efforts in Haiti.


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The wife --- a princess in her own right.

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It has always surprised me and I consider myself blessed that I haven't been attacked for anything that I write (except one instance on AOL Black Voices) as I don't believe this is something I am built to handle. I don't do well with confrontation.

September 2009 has come and gone. I went into it knowing that I might lose a reader or two or at the very least leave them scratching their heads. I wrote a total of sixteen (16) posts for the month, down from my usual twenty (20), and out of that total, four (4) of them were less than positive. Please also keep in mind that these 4 posts which all were published over a 30-day span belong to a body of work that now has reached a total 360 posts: exactly 1.1% of my posts on this blog. It was something I was very wary of doing. I debated it for many days before diving in. But I did it fully prepared for the fallout and consequences. I shined a light on my imperfect side. Not that I have a side that's perfect, but what I did was share my gripes, my insecurities and frustrations.

Why?

Because this is my blog and I can do whatever I want. Honestly. But way above this base reason I wanted to show that despite all the positivity and love I've tried to promote as a not-so-new family man, I'm very much made out of flesh and blood, my thinking can go South, there are things I don't like, they aren't funny and can't be spun to be read as funny, and some of them actually arise out of my house. As of late several men who typically have not commented here have reached out to me to share their frustrations with me, by email, Facebook or a comment or two here and there. I don't know them. I don't know if they're right for how they feel, but it was nice to know that I connected with the guys who aren't so sure about being husbands, who are struggling with being dads, who may not have their ish straight. And several women let me know the same via their comments. With these 4 posts I let them know they aren't alone and I learned I wasn't either. Besides, who in 2009 wants to be alone? I'm sure plenty of people do, but you get my drift.

For whatever reason, I thought it was my duty to be transparent whatever the fallout might be, here on this blog and in my home. And there was fallout.

My point is that I went into September with every intention on being transparent about me because I was beginning to feel a little silly writing about the usual stuff I write about here with so much else weighing on my mind. It was giving me writer's block, for starters. So I wrote out what had my soul in knots. Even though it's here for all the Net to see, this is a journal of my comings and goings, my hopes, dreams, sorrows and fears. Something that maybe one day my children can see and read through as a cheat sheet and a testimony of my love for them and their mother, and also a journal about their dad --- who I am as a human being navigating real human problems --- sometimes well, sometimes not so well. And then of course, there's plenty of stuff that will never see the light of day.

For the people who don't know me from a can of paint, I hope that even in the midst of my bitching I was able to shine a light on something for you. Even if that light was, I don't need to be bitchin' like this guy! For the friends and MMWH followers who saw through the layers of text in these 4 particular posts; felt the pain, saw that clearly I needed to vent and/or someone to help make sense of my mess, to tell me it really isn't all that bad because we humans do have a tendency to make more of what is there and what isn't there (not dismissing anything I've written) and reached out to me directly in the comments (namely Damon who succinctly told me to "Shake it off.") or shot me emails with words and videos of inspiration or made calls of concern (primarily married folk who've been married a whole hell of a lot longer than I have and understand that this marriage thing is a journey of peaks and valleys no matter who's right or wrong) I appreciate you more than you'll ever know. And for those of you out there who I have a pretty strong sense read my posts and saw a man merely bitching and moaning even to the point of being ungrateful...well, you're entitled to your opinion too, as you have stated it either directly or indirectly to me.

When it was all said and done, September was a mixed bag of results. Despite or because of these 4 posts along with the other 12 I published for the month, my visits dropped by 6% but my new subscribers/readers/followers increased by nearly 6%. Go figure.

Thanks for reading! This month, Makes Me Wanna Holler is going to experience a revamp, or a re-formatting to put it best. An idea came to me the other night and I hope you all will like it. If you don't please let me know. Constructive criticism is something I can take.

Stay tuned.

Photo Credit 1: Flickr

Photo Credit 2: Flickr

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Today is my wife's birthday. That's right 09/09/09. Hopefully if you're reading this, the world hasn't blown up and the machines haven't become self-aware.

Happy Birthday, Lady! By the time she reads this she should be riddled with guilt, stuffed to the cheeks with cupcakes as the motto in her department at work is: Any day is a good day to have cupcakes. Any reason is a good reason to have cupcakes.

She's one year older and wiser --- an intelligent, focused, driven go getter with the world as her oyster. God Bless, you, my wife, may you experience much prosperity in your new year.

Speaking of older...

Over the weekend my son (the refuse-to-take-pictures member of the Makes Me Wanna Holler household) was chatting with his sister about how mommy and daddy are "old people."

I looked up from what I was reading in my room and decided to go for a walk down the hall...

Five or six steps later, I was at the threshold of the den of dorkdom, a realm where dirty socks and underwear live on the floor; xBox 360 Live is perpetually on (until school starts) with children (his football teammates) somewhere in their dork dens shouting out to my son through his television to dive, duck, shoot, etc.; and the smell of cheap cologne and caramelized onions sits stagnant in the air.

My son and I made eye contact...

He smiled.

I didn't.

"I'm older than you," I told him, calmly. "But I am not old."

"The next time you call me old, I'm going to count off my years on your face. And then you'll see how old I am."

My son busted out laughing. I took one step into his room and he screamed, "Mom, Dad's over hear threatnin' me, invading my space, my personal bubble!"

"Please, I own you and this space."

Satisfied that I made myself clear, I left his room. After I was out of striking distance, he called me old again.

Photo Source: Flckr

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