What I Learned On A Netflix Reality Docu-Series “Being Dad” Pt. 6 - Showtime!…

Fiiinally, I matter!

Yes, we have come to the home stretch. The actual birth has begun. Things are dilated. Pushing has begun. The hot water is filing the bath tub. It is ON!

I am now called on to hold my wife’s hand and be close to her, rather than sit over in the corner quietly, trying not to breathe too loud and annoy the star of the show. Who is about to be upstaged, by the way.

We are all so happy to be in the final stage. As I said, 24 hours labor, doing squats most of that time, no drugs, Kim is Wonder Woman.

And our Boy Wonder is arriving.

The production company is right outside now, ready to come in at a moment’s notice.

Kim and I are now lying on the bed. I say almost nothing, I am simply there for her. Then the crown appears. Our son’s head is now getting his body’s first introduction to the world. It’s time to hop in the bath.

Well, I wouldn’t say she “hopped” into the bath, but she made it there. It was only a matter of a few short minutes and “Pop!” there he was. Declan was here.

And he was a frog.

He was bulgy-eyed and wrinkly, and he was healthy and ready to take on the world. He swam right up after exiting my wife and said hello.

We were elated, to say the least.

On camera, you can see much of this, as Ghia has been filming with our iphones.

Looking nice and bulky, I had towels stuffed inside my shirt, to warm up for him, as I cut the umbilical cord. Then Kim held him and cried. A wonderful happy tension releasing cry.

We are parents.

There is now some post birthing maintenance that Kim needs to undergo, so it is now daddy’s turn with the boy. My shirt comes off, as skin on skin contact is very important as soon as possible.

I hold my son for the first time. And yes, I cried. It was magical. I was so insanely happy. 48 years old, and I thought I had been cheated out of ever being a father. Kim changed all that.

She is looking at me, smiling, while an Eastern European mid-wife is elbow deep in her uterus, scooping out birth goo.

The crew was now allowed to come in. I ran out to let them know, and did my best Olympian pose. My pale pasty doughy Olympian pose. It had been awhile since I was in prime shape. Going to have to change that if I want to keep up with a kiddo.

Lights, camera, action. There was no direction, as none would be taken anyway. They just hung on the outskirts and captured everything they could.

Even after 24 hours of hard labor, Kim is glowing. See for yourself.

The rest is kind of a blur, to be honest. I know the crew interviewed me a bit outside in the hall. I know the birthing center ordered up some tasty Mexican food. I know we drove home.

The production was basically over. Though they did spring for a lovely professional photo shoot and I had to go into the studio for a final interview.

Then we were to spend the next few months waiting to hear when the show would air. It was very exciting. Our first docu-series!

The show finally came out. And it was awesome.

I don’t know if you have ever been on camera. But being an actor, means there is a very good possibility that you are your own worst critic. That is definitely the case with me.

I rarely watch anything I have done, except to get clips for demo reels, or marketing, etc.
A couple interesting points.

Understanding the power of editing can really help you see what the media does to a story on the news. If you watch the opening of the show, the narration says something about different dads, different places, different religions…. And on the religions part, they show me doing yoga.

You know, the yoga that Kim has never ever “coached” me in. The yoga that I have woefully ignored for years, to my less than stretchy detriment.

It doesn’t say it, but it seems to infer that I may be a Buddhist, or something of the Eastern philosophy. I am not. I am definitely a fan of Eastern philosophies, but not a practitioner.

And, as I said, we had to film at Kim’s parents house, since our apartment apparently had a “no filming” policy that we were unaware of. Oddly enough, a couple years later, we did move into that house. Grandparents are great live in babysitters.

And we thank God for them (not Buddha).

Other than that, the only real interesting thing that happened, was the whole storyline of my injured back.
Shortly after his birth, I was introduced to the work of Dr. John Sarno, and his “Healing Back Pain” books. A fellow voice acting friend of mine was looking at a possible neck/back surgery and they would have to go through his throat.

He said no frickin way and started researching a ton. He read the books and his pain disappeared.
Skeptical as I am, I checked it out. And, I’ll be damned. I read the books, and my 20 year + intense back pain, all but disappeared as well.

I pick up my now 3 year old son with no problem 90% of the time.

So all the “drama” that was so carefully crafted, was no longer a storyline at all. And I could not be happier.
As I am writing this final installment, my boy is sitting next to me, with one finger up his nose, while we watch 101 Dalmations together, at our airbnb in the Gold Coast of Australia.

He is gorgeous. My Kim is gorgeous. The weather here is gorgeous. The beach is gorgeous. Life is gorgeous.
Every day, I am reminded of just how incredible life is. And the fact that our story is available forever is just magnificent. Some day Declan will see his story and how much he is loved.

And hopefully, our story will be interesting, maybe even enlightening and inspirational for new parents.
One thing I understand now as a daddy, every day is a new installment in the series. The story is ever evolving, unfolding, and expanding.

I never know what is coming next. And I’m okay with that.
Cuz, I’m a dad. Every morning, it’s showtime!

What I Learned On A Netflix Reality Docu-Series “Being Dad”- Pt. 5 - Honey, I…

Shit… Just… Got… Real.

The labor started. Well, the contraction started. I guess he actual labor came later.

Hell, I don’t now. I have a penis. I’m really good with those mechanics. But in this arena, I am outta my league.
Luckily, we have a doula. Yeah, I had to look it up too.

A doula is a woman who helps with the birthing process. And we had an excellent one, Ghia.
Thank God for Ghia. Once the contractions started, I called her. And I called the production company.
Ghia came over to help. The production company had to wait.

You see, when my wife, Kim, decided that giving birth on a TV show would be a good idea, she was not writhing in pain, about to shoot a human out of her nether regions.

So, the production company was not going to be present during the hardest part. Which was to last about 24 hours.

Many of the early hours were to be done in our apartment. The birthing center was fully informed and on standby, but they were waiting for a certain dilation number before we needed to make the drive over.
This didn’t concern me much. They knew what they were doing. And I was of no use in the meantime. So Ghia told me to get some sleep. I did my best to comply.

May I just say, my wife is a frickin champ. A superhero. Wonder Woman for reals.
That 24 hours was done with ZERO drugs, painkillers, or anything else to make it easier on her. And the only thing that seemed to take away the pain somewhat was to do squats.

So not only was she in labor, she was also working out the whole time. Side note - at the birthing center, there were posts around the birthing tub. She held onto one of those to steady her squats. Strangest pole dance ever…

As I said, the early stages of labor were in our apartment. When you watch the show, there is very little of our apartment featured, if any. So it looks like we live in that big house. That is Kim’s parents house, where Kim grew up in Burbank.

When viewing anything you see on TV, please take it with a grain of salt that there may be some production value thrown in.

Our apartment was in Koreatown, where I lived for 14 years, 6 with Kim. It was a great old building built in the 30s. It was also 20 minutes away from the Birthing Center in Beverly Hills.

For those of you that think anything other than a birth in a hospital is dangerous, no need for concern. Cedars-Sinai was right across the street. But there was no need.

The Birthing Center was perfect. Quiet. Calm. With professional mid-wives at the top of their game. They were amazing. We will go back there for #2 when the time comes.

They had 2 birthing rooms - 1) a nice quiet room with a tub, a bed, and just a really nice ambience. 2) a room befitting the arrival of a Roman Gladiator. That one was a bit much for us.

We figured the arrival of our first born son should not be graced by the spirit of Russel Crowe’s Maximus screaming “Are you not entertained?!?” So we chose the quiet one.

During the birthing process, there can be a lot of waiting. In this case there most definitely was.
My role in all of this was to pretty much sit quietly in the corner and be ready to help in any way possible. I could not do any work on the computer. The constant clackity clacking would irritate and possibly enrage the woman concentrating on her preggers striptease show.

Reading was out, as that seemed disrespectful to the focus going on in the room. And making jokes to lighten the situation only poked the bear with a bigger stick.

I desperately wanted to help my beautiful soulmate during her time of need. But I had no idea how to be of service.

Kim had not had anything to eat during the labor, as it would only come back up. She was in pain, hungry, and exhausted.

It seemed that the only thing that might help was some honey. The mid-wife said I should get some for my hard working wife. So I sprang into action.

Luckily there was a Trader Joe’s across the street. But when I say across the street, the route to get there is the longest path imaginable. the intersection is ridiculously curvy, so what is right across the street takes 10-15 minutes to get there and back. Like that frickin scene in poltergeist where she is running down the hall and it keeps getting longer.

Dammit, Spike, you had ONE JOB. Hurry!

I’m not exactly sure why, to my recollection that TJs didn’t have the honey I needed. I knew I needed those honey sticks, but they must have only had the jars. And telling a pregnant woman to lap up spoonfuls of honey like Winnie the Pooh would probably not garner me any husband points at this particular juncture.

So back across the LA’s longest crosswalk nightmare, to find a local coffee shop and hope they have some. A couple blocks later, and hussaaaahhh!!!! Victory!

I race back with a handful of honey sticks like a sweet bouquet to present my hard laboring wife with sustenance, sweetness, and the fact that I had value, by gum!

She still says it was one of the sweetest gestures I have ever made. I just wanted to help her in her time of need. I honestly don’t think she ever had any of the honey.

And that’s okay, cause when the going got tough, the tough stayed there and did pregger squats like a champ.

And we’ll always remember that moment when I ran into the room triumphantly, breathlessly, with outstretched hands, saying,

“Honey…I…”

What I Learned On A Netflix Reality Docu-Series “Being Dad”- Pt. 4 - Daddy Issues…

On a reality show, there is a LOT of talking. Most of which never makes it onto the screen.
There is a lot of editing and moving back and forth to keep the story alive. You have to stay interested, right?!

You’ll see interviews, interspersed with action shots throughout. Some of those interviews went pretty deep.
Actually they brought up some things I hadn’t though about really in years.

Since the show is called “Being Dad,” of course the topic of daddy-dom is front and center. But I was only thinking in terms of ME being the daddy.

But when the cameras start rolling, I started opening doors to my father and how he failed so many ways in his life and the lessons it taught me.

As a coach, I am always happy to explore avenues that may sometimes get a little uncomfortable. That’s usually where the best breakthroughs come from.

Dealing with my own “daddy” issues is not particularly new to me, but sharing them with the world kinda was.
To bring you up to speed, my father was an eternal pessimist. He may have played at being an optimist, but there was a lot of negativity in his DNA. And sadly, in mine, I’m afraid.

I am constantly doing the work to clear out the negativity. And it is a constant challenge.
My father had a divorce early on. His first wife decided she wanted to be with his best pal at the time. Just like my first wife. Scary, I know.

He listened to all the self help recordings of the day and read the books. “How to Win Friends and Influence People” always stood out in my memory as his “go to” tome.

But like most people, what he read on the page was not ingrained in his psyche.
Don’t get me wrong, he was a heckuva salesman. He was a “Land Man” in the seventies. He would lease land from people so that oil companies could drill on them.

He did quite well for a time. But he would be out of town for months at a time, and that took its toll on his second marriage, to my mother.

He was an alcoholic. Not a physical abuser, but definitely an emotional and mental abuser, primarily toward my mother. To this day, I still don’t know why.

He used to stop at this crappy little hole in the wall bar in OKC, called the Orbit Lounge, and would get drunk on his way home. Then he would berate my mother for some reason. He was like Homer Simpson, only the dick version.

My brother and I had front row seats to these events as we were usually sleeping on the floor by my mother’s bedside.

After a move out of OKC to a tiny town called Mustang, a new house, and a booming oil market, things got better for a time. But his being gone all the time was not great, and then the oil market plummeted.

He lost his job, and we lost everything. That marriage ended after 20 years. I was 13. I saw him rarely after that until he passed.

The things my father taught me were not intentional on his part. I gleaned my training learning what not to do.
I have always worked on staying positive, being in integrity, and treating my loved ones with care and as much love as I can give them.

Since my first marriage ended in the same way as my fathers, I had to stand up and take notice.
I can not and will not end up like my father. I have my own path.

In my second marriage, I am focusing on communication and connection with my wife and son.
And I treat my wife wife the utmost respect. And I adore her too.

The main takeaway is that I can see what my dad did, and I can go another way. Regardless of upbringing and all the baggage that comes along with it.

And that is really what the interviews are all about here.

Asking the hard questions about fatherhood and sharing the fears and doubts that just, what if I were to be like my father?

Well, that’s a hard no on my end.

I want to live my life so that my son Declan is proud of me.
Did I love my father? Of course I did. Was I proud of him? No.

I knew he loved me and my brother. He just had a lot of conditioning from his folks that was far less than enriching and positive.

My job is to right those wrongs and give my son a loving home with stable parents.

So in the end, I guess being on a reality show can have its perks. It makes you take a look at things from a different perspective and really hone in on what is in your internal messaging.

I mean, that is not really what you would expect from a reality show, but I guess that’s why this one is so good, they actually stayed close to reality.

Deep discussions were had, nobody flew off the handle and created a big argument or fight.
And hopefully, what we said on the topics, helped some people take a look at their own inner messaging and stories.

Because, as we know, there are a lot of people out there with daddy issues.