the flight of the fenix

He is here!

Finally! 40 weeks and 3 days after the chosen spermy penetrated the sanctity of the egg, we have Fenix Mateo Jarry!

He is here!

He burps, poos, pees, sleeps, eats, cries, and makes funny faces and I enjoy it and find it fascinating!!! The world is a different place now that my little man is a part of it. I feel more like a protector and a provider. I am a watcher and a warrior. I am more of a lover and a leader. When all is said and done, without his mom and I... lets just say that he needs us big time.

So I want to chat a little bit about the birth of this little guy. As you may know that the traditionally the birth of the phoenix is from the flames and the whole process takes three days. I can see a lot of parallels for my own little Fenix. We were in the hospital for three long days and his arrival probably could only have been more shocking than if he leapt from the flames! (slight exaggeration but it goes well with the story)

My wife went through a lot of pain. Her labor pains started days before we even got to the hospital. For three days leading up to our departure to the hospital, she could barely walk and was left fairly incapacitated. Once we were in the hospital there were all kinds of precautions that needed to be taken. Claudia had tubes running in and out of her. Literally! I mean literally, literally! She had so much clear tubing running out of her she looked as though she was trapped in Spiderman's web. Then when it came to the actualy labor she was pushing for over three and a half hours! She put Lance Armstrong to shame with that show of endurance. Our baby did not want to come out!

But there was that magical moment when we did. When his head popped out and the doctor turned and asked:

"Would dad like to deliver this baby?"

You have to understand that I never hold babies. They are too fragile and precious and a huge responsibility. You want to hold them, but you worry about dropping them. So now the doctor is actually asking me to catch this metaphorical crystal vase that is covered in slimy goo-ness to complicate things even further. So the guy that never holds babies is now stepping up to the plate. I am also not real good at dealing with other people's physical pains. When my wife was getting the epidural put in, I had to sit down (yeah, I was a wuss!). So now I am between her legs (a great place for all husbands to be and how we got into this situation in the first place) and the first person he sees and feels is me. I am not wearing any kind of apron or gloves, so I am covered in life giving slime. I felt like Bill Murray in Ghostbusters 1 when he first meets Slimer.

But I grabbed him, gave him to my wife, and burst into tears. The best present my wife or I ever got.

six days and counting!

preparing.for.fenix, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Ok, yet another post about babies and my journey to becoming a daddy!

So, for mother's day I took my lovely Claudia to a tattoo parlour to get some body paint done on her belly. I wanted to her know how much I already consider her a mother even though we are technically missing the main component. The work that she has put in to take care of him though she has never met him is very impressive. The food she eats, the places she goes, the company she keeps... all revolve around our little one. I am not joking... you ever hear of slippery elm? Its a native american herbal secret for sore throats, however it also makes your uterus slippery... for those of you who have them. I find this incredibly amusing to think of my little baby shooting through the uteran canal at high speeds. I can imagine him like a little kid (which is what he is... my imagination is in overdrive..) screaming "WHEEEEEEEEEE!" as he plummets head first on the waterslide to life. A little more blood and sticky stuff though... So yeah, she takes very good care of him and is making preparations to make the birth as fun as possible for both her and the baby. Claudia works really hard at taking care of the baby and so I already consider her a mother. Hence, the mother's day trip to the tattoo shop.

She was very excited to have some work done as we look forward to getting something a lot more permanent soon. So we walk in for our appointment and we are greeted by our artist for the day who promptly advises us how hungover he is!!! Huh! So glad we aren't using any needles today! Now, a few days previous our painter had asked for images and sketches so that he would have something to work on and I sent them out promptly. Of course he didn't have them and fortunately I was able to pull them up from the email that I had sent from my inbox. So our hungover guy started working on sketching it out and about an hour later we were ready to go! Its fun sitting and waiting! So he gets to work and he advises us how nervous he is because he has never done any work on a pregnant woman before. He was sweating quite a bit and was freaked out when the baby decided to move and kick the canvas. He also told us stories from the tattoo parlour world. I felt like I was in an episode of "Montreal Ink." One tattoo guy just broke his wrist because he got into a fight with his present girlfriend's exboyfriend, right in front of the shop! Our artist told us about how he had to do some work on a woman's "titties" and how that made him nervous (the manager poked his head around the corner and advised him to use the word "chest" instead of titties to maintain a certain level of professionalism... too little, too late!) He also told us the stories of how he used to run in a gang in El Salvador and how he got shot and he had to move away to escape from it... I could keep going

But in the end it was a lot of fun and we chatted with him during the whole hour process of getting the artistic creation. It was a unique experience to have her belly tattooed and all these hardcore tattoo guys come by and say how cool it was that we were getting some work done. And then... as we head back down the street to the car this African guy stops us and talks all about pregnancy and motherhood and his experiences as a father and blesses us as we walk on. I love this city!

Anyhow... that is really all I have to say... no deep thoughts or nothing other than I am excited for the next week. I am excited to be a dad. I am excited to go through the whole process and be there for my wife and child. Love to hear from those of you with similar stories and have any advice or tales of your own.

standing room only...

preg.6, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Ok... i have not posted anything in a while, basically because all my photography has been "work" related. I haven't been able to get out there and just take some shots on my own and enjoy it. Hopefully soon! But I have to get something up, so I am kicking it old school and bringing out a recent shot that I love.

This is my lovely wife just over a month ago and she looks sublime!!! (which is also a preferred music group of hers) To watch her stomach grow and to feel the life inside kicking out for life is the greatest gift I could imagine! I know the baby is aching to get out, but at the same time he is perfectly content in his little warm, safe world. I understand completely!! I feel like I go through that on a daily basis.

I love the comfort, safety, and pampering that I can receive from western society and the lifestyle that our world provides for us. I have my internet/facebook/fastfood umbilical high speed hook up that keeps me satiated and satisfied. And I guess that has some miniscule place in our lives. Because eventually, we leave our little womb and go out into the world. And when this happens we do not go quietly. There is pain, kicking, screaming, pushing, and professionals in white coats to collect us. Our lifeline is cut and we breathe our first gasp of air. (see Neo being taken out of the machine world in Matrix 1) So now we are out there and we are no longer safe and protected... even though we may have parents(some people don't get to meet theirs and I can't imagine how tough that is) to fend for us, we are now using our own immune systems to fight off diseases and viruses, our skin is shielding us from the UV rays, our lungs are trying to filter the air... its on us... and its not as safe.

But thats OK... we weren't made to live in the womb. We were made to live out in the world... out in the wild! Let us embrace it, let us make the most of it. Sure the womb would have been comfortable, but imagine life without your favorite friend, food, song, or memory. We are pampered, babied, and wombed (not a word, but you understand I hope) only for a short while to be able to take on the world and appreciate it!

Maybe thats another reason why people smile when they see that little baby doing baby things. We smile at how small and fragile they are. We ooh and ahh about their wide eyes and flailing limbs as they interact with our world. But I think we are impressed with this little person as they bravely adjust and learn with bright-eyed-eagerness about this beautiful world that they have a lifetime to discover.

i am a big fat ice cream eating pig... OINK OINK

I went to Ben and Jerry's last night. I wanted to taste that delicious, mouthwatering, ice cream. However, since they were giving away free cones last night, there was a line up that stretched around the block!!! Combine that with a pregnant wife that needed to pee, really cold temperatures, and the fact I was wearing short sleeves... we went to Dairy Queen instead! Seriously, we left and went to Dairy Queen.

Now I am not a huge fan of Dairy Queen. Not that there is anything wrong with it, but I find it to sugary, too sweet, too much fast and not enough food. I leave DQ with this sickness in my stomach and the desire to wash my mouth out with something cool and refreshing. They are certainly not going to be hiring me for any kind of promotions. So now that we have established my aversion to the Female Ruler of Milk Products (Dairy Queen for those of you going huh???) we end up going and I end up ordering the product that I had been seeing on ads everywhere. I have been lured in by the Siren's Song. TV-says-its-good-therefore-I-will-obey...crush-capitalism...

So I gave into the pressure of what TV was telling me to get. I feel horrible about it actually. I don't like DQ ice cream... so someone explain to me why I am paying about 5$ for some "fancy" frozen treat that I really don't fully like? I don't know... makes me sick actually. So anyways... it gets worse. I am falling into Western consumer culture. I am at a store who's product I don't particularly enjoy... I am paying way too much for something I don't really enjoy (The five bucks I spent could have fed, clothed, educated, and provided medical care for a child I don't know in Africa for about 5 days. Since I don't know him personally, I can brush that off and feel less guilty, although if he was to come over and hang out at my place I would have a hard time explaining to him why I couldn't help him out because I was eating ice cream that I didn't like. I now have to go back in this paragraph and find where was my jump-off point for this tangent that I am now on.)... ok, so I am paying too much for something I don't really enjoy, and I am now EATING THE BOWL!

I think this is one of the ultimate signs of where our culture has gone horribly wrong. At what point, after increasing our serving sizes by 250%, did we say... "Hmmmmm... I have no eaten enough. My dining experience is somehow lacking. I know! I will eat the bowl which my desert came in!!!" Huh!!! Go figure! We are now trying to consume everything before us. No more is it, "Make sure you finish everything on your plate!" or "I want you to lick that plate clean mister!" Now we will be telling our chubby children to eat the damn plate! And this eating the plate/bowl is not an isolated incident... at the hierarchy of the Canadian diet, Tim Hortons (for all you Americans, insert with any fast food chain because I am sure its been done before, or skip over these next couple sentences, or google or wikipedia Tim Horton's to be able to follow along.) had that creamy soup that came in the bread bowl... sooooooo good! I am so hungry right now. What made my bowl eating experience even funnier was that the bowl came in another plastic bowl so that the bowl I was going to eat wouldn't touch their dirty table... so there goes the environment angle that some may try and propose!

So... anyhow. You can come up with your own moral-of-the-story thing. However for me, slowly-but-hopefully-surely I am realizing the error of my ways and will soon be able to go and have a small healthy portion of tofu ice cream straight out of my hands so that I am not stuffing the bowl in mouth or hurting the environment.

I love my city... in spite of things....

IMG_0246, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Ok... so there were riots. People were hurt, cars were burned, and stores were vandalized. I am profoundly sorry for the people who were affected and I am very sorry for my city. This is not what my city is about.

Over the past few days I have had floods of emails, calls, and comments about how we should be ashamed of what happened.

"The actions of the past few days are exactly why Montreal will never win another Stanley Cup."

"There is something wrong with you people in Montreal."

"What did YOU take?"


Now I am ready to riot... I am from Montreal, so automatically I stole something? Are you freaking kidding me? You want to run that by me again? Montrealers are not MORONS and those who support the Montreal Canadiens are not vandals in hiding waiting for an opportune moment to strike. You cannot lump hockey fans or Montrealers all together because of that reprehensible act of the few. If you want to live by that code, get ready to point that judgement and condemnation inward! So by that token Germans would be Nazis, Japanese would be samurais, and blondes would be dumb.

Just a few facts... I was there taking pictures after game 7. People were celebrating, dancing, and shouting in the streets. Complete strangers hugged each other and exchanged celebratory smiles with each other. Hardcore-looking-anglophone-gangsters were linked arm in arm with traditional-conservative-francophone-seniors. People shared their brown-bag beer and offered toasts to the city's and team's good fortune. Besides slowing down traffic, nothing serious happened with the Canadiens fans. (There were a couple of people burning Bruins jerseys, but there is nothing really wrong with that... and a few Bruins fans got heckled... but come on don't scream Habs suck and Habs were lucky just after a loss... in Montreal...wearing a Bruins jersey with "Habs Suck" written on it. Use your head!)

I am not saying that nothing bad happened. A lot of people were hurt financially, physically and emotionally. However this is not due to the Canadiens or Montrealers... There are people, given the right circumstances, will profit from a situation. These people came prepared with firebombs and plans to wreak havoc. These people came prepared to influence others (who were probably already under the influence) to continue with distractions and vandalism. This can happen anywhere and potentially to anyone. Remember how Christians got on the whole "slavery is ok because the Bible says so" bandwagon. You ever go out with a guy/girl who maybe influenced you to go further than you felt comfortable? What happened is not a hockey problem, a Montreal problem, a French problem...

ITS A PEOPLE PROBLEM.

It because there are people who think of themselves as more important than others. Their immediate needs are more important than the long term effects on society and the world. There are people who have some serious hurts and holes in their lives that they need filled. Maybe they need people to encourage them and pay attention to them. Maybe it sounds really cliche, but maybe they need a big hug and someone to tell them that they mean something and don't have to resort to extremes for people to pay attention to them. I really don't want to sound like Dr. Phil, but it would think it obvious that these people are missing something(and most likely not left footed Reeboks stolen from the Reebok store. The funny thing about that is they went in and stole shoes off the floor and all they got were a bunch of lefties. They won't even be able to wear them!)

So now we have this people problem... what do we do about it? Do we sit from our places on high and point the finger and cast down condemnation as if we were gods on Mount Olympus? Do we make fun of the city where it took place and write off an entire population? Do we litter the streets of Montreal with riot police every time we have a game? I don't know actually... as I was typing I was thinking that I this great idea would come to me and everything would be all right... but nothing is coming. Pointing the finger won't work. Name calling won't work. Extra riot police might actually help, although it felt like I was in some police state under martial law last Thursday after game one of round two. However I feel that all the previous things that have been done is for those who don't really care about why this is happening but don't want it to happen again. Its like when my "service engine" light comes on in the car and I put a piece of tape over it. If I can't see it, well its not a problem!

So... I stand by my city. Even with the riots and the blackeye its given Montreal, I will stand up. While the world sees pictures of charred police cruisers and broken store windows, I see a much different story. So lets not point the finger and feel good about ourselves comparing ourselves to the people who burned, looted, and rioted. Because... we have all done it. Maybe we have not burned police cars and caused chaos but we all have a little inner turmoil and fires that burn within us.

a canadiens fan stress...

As I write this, my Montreal Canadiens are in the battle of their lives to climb out of the first round of the playoffs. I am at work, jealous of those who have off and stressed that I can't be at home yelling and screaming at the tv screen. BECAUSE it does make a difference. They can hear me through the boob tube and the coach will adjust his lines based on the yelps, groans, and fist pumping from my couch.

I love this team and I love watching them succeed. But even more I love how the city reacts to their success. We won't talk about when they fail... it is just ghastly (ooooh big word! Ghastly!)!!! But this city has been buzzing with activity and support. I wouldn't be able to count all the flags that people have attached, taped, glued, tied, and welded onto their cars, homes, and place of business. The entire Montreal Fire Department is getting burned (great play on words) for painting the fire stations in support of les Habitants! The mayor is not happy since he is on an anti-grafitti kick. Where is his spirit!? No multiple terms for you! It has been amazing to see how this team's success or failures have tied this whole city together in a knot of electric frenzy!

Montreal is one of the most beautiful cities in the world and hockey is truly one of this city's passions. And whether I am looking at the ugliness of them losing (which doesn't happen often and better not happen tonight), the panic of fans, media, and players as we enter game 7 of a series that should have ended in our favor 2 games ago, or the sound of "ET C'EST LE BUT!" on RDS, I am reminded of how special this all is.

No real other reason for this post... just to go on about my Habs and my city. We're up 1 - 0 right now!

Sugar off!

tall.trees, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Its spring time again in Montreal! Its the time when the temperature creeps up past freezing and the 5 feet of snow build up melts down to only 3 feet. Its the time when Montrealers put on t-shirts and celebrate the sun, even though it really is still too cold for that kind of thing. Winter tires get wore down and the potholes that were filled up by the snow are now filled up with water (and small civilizations of stranded car owners that fell into them). It is also the time of year for a time honored Quebecois tradition of "la cabane a sucre!" In English that is called "sugar shacking," or "sugaring off." I don't like that last term... just sounds dirty. "Ahhhh why don't you just sugar!!!" "Why don't you sugar off?" "Sugar you!" "Sugar yourself!"

So what is this tradition that we partake in? Essentially it is to drive way out of town into the country, sit crammed up with hundreds of people you don't know, eat the fattiest foods known to mankind drenched in pure maple syrup, and then the next day start treatment for diabetes. Let me give you an idea of my last trip was like.

My wife and I get into the car to drive out to a little town that is called St Marc-sur-Richelieu-sur-le-lac-St-Ambrois-de-l'Assomption-de-la-Sainte-Marie-Colis-que-c'est-long-ce-nom-ville. This town cannot be found on the map or on any street signs because the name is actually bigger than the town itself. The only reason we can find the place because the line of parked cars stretch halfway back to the city. People are trudging along on the three mile long trek only to find out that someone has now left and there is a free spot in the parking lot. I drive by them and laugh and spit on their misfortune. Ha ha!

Once we park we now have to push our way to the front of the line as people glare at us because we have a reservation. At one point we are trapped like Chewbacca at a beastiality conference and cannot move. We are now being screamed at by old ladies who need their sugar insisting that we get out of their way. My wife is pregnant and doesn't take shit from anybody. She wants her food and shares some choice words with the fossils who are impeding her progress. Later we find out that these seniors had "an accident." My wife refuses to speak about it without a lawyer present.

Finally we get to our table and our group. I am meeting them for the first time as they are my wife's coworkers. They are already eating their pea soup. Now if you have never had it, it looks like snot, mixed in with vomit and bile. Its really good though! I look around and people are freely pouring maple syrup into their soup. There is also something called cretons. Its usually in brick form and you spread it on toast. Its grey and lifeless looking even though it has a higher fat content than deep fried crisco. More maple syrup is added. There is also something called "oreilles de christ." I am not sure of the spelling but it means Christ's ears. Basically these are deep fried pig fat. Again they are really good drowned in maple syrup or straight up. What I find interesting is that I don't think Jesus would have an major issue with his name being used as a nickname for food its just that, being a Jew, deep fried pig fat is certainly not kosher nor healthy. The food continues with eggs, ham, sugar pie, deep fried dough balls, and some other sweet treat that has yet to be defined. The whole time we are begging for more and fighting over the random pourings of coffee. Good times!!! McDonalds has nothing on these sugar shacks!

We got outside where we are swarmed by cigarette smoke and kids throwing snowballs. Kids are falling, tackling each other in the mud, and trying to avoid getting swatted by their parents. Outside there is more maple syrup as it is being poured on virgin snow. At this point to try stabbing it with a popsicle stick and you try rolling it to make the world's most ghetto lollipop. This is immensely popular and the pushing and shoving continues. My wife somehow already has a collection of desugared popsicle sticks and is throwing crippled children out of the way to get more.

The next step is to patiently wait for the sleigh ride. Basically there are two overworked horses that will pull roughly 25-30 people around in the snow. This is quite fun and as city folk we make comparisons to our subway and horrible transport system. The horse make their customary bowel movement and the maple syrup smell is now blended with horse shit... mmmmmm! However this doesn't stop the majority of sleigh riders and they head straight back to the maple syrup on snow upon our return. Again my wife is trampling people to get her sugar fix. The people serving the syrup already call her by name.

So thus ends our little sugar escapade. I am still suffering from the shakes as I come down from my sugar high. Great times... glad it only happens once a year!!!