Christmas 2009 was a lot of fun. After opening stockings at our house, Hugh's parents, both sets of grandparents and his youngest uncle joined his 7 cousins and remaining two uncle and aunt pairs for a Christmas extravaganza. We wore our crowns from the Christmas crackers all through Christmas dinner and then received presents during our secret santa exchange. A nice twist to the game is that each gift was signed, not with the gift giver's name, but with a clue that had to be deciphered. A crossword puzzle, a poem, a cryptogram, a single word ("bribable" : ). Playing the game was part of the fun!
The kids really liked their presents as well. What child doesn't? At one point someone was trying to guess their riddle and one of the kids, who was waiting to receive his present, said, "I just can't take it any more, it was from me!" Very funny, though sometimes kids get a little worked up over gifts. Heck, sometimes adults get very worked up over gifts. I remember when I was a kid and my brother and I got these matchbox cars from friends of my parents - who totally did not need to get us a gift at all. I got this series of sports cars and my brother got a series of off-road cars, which I thought were cooler and proceeded to throw a fit about not getting the cooler gift. Not surprising, the next year we got the same thing after hearing, "We got you guys the same thing this year, we learned our lesson." (Man, was I a jerk...) Sometimes kids immediately want to play with a gift someone else opened, even if they are holding a new toy in their hand, or throw a new toy to the ground because the next gift is on its way to them! Gift opening sessions seem over stimulating for our receiving sensors : )
What is it about presents that does that in kids? Could it be stopped? Whenever I see behavior in kids these days I try to think of what I would do if Hugh did the same thing or, while Hugh is still a little baby, how can I raise him to avoid it all in the first place. Can selfishness be raised out of my son or is that just human nature being brought out by fancy paper and bright bows? Is it possible to open a gift and really enjoy it, or can it be outdone by something else? Do children in impoverished countries who get little, if any, gifts in their lives act the same way? Would less gifts help my kid? Was it believing in Santa Claus? I can probably blame Obama if I try hard enough . . .
After we opened all the presents and four of the boys got nerf guns we went and had a war in the basement. By chance I happened to bring my nerf gun over as well, the N-Strike Maverick, and had a good time. (See my Facebook album). My youngest nephew, age four, who a mere hour prior polished off and entire turkey leg by himself, exclaimed "Let's do this thing!" before starting our next round and pegging me in in the chest. Enjoying the gift was more fun than opening multiple gifts, and spending time shooting each other in the face meant more (at least to me) than what or how many other things were received. Perhaps in the vein of Christmas simply receiving and enjoying a gift is better than anything, or everything, else that just seems distracting in light of the important things.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Mountains of Fun?
Family fun with the kids (and adults) continued just before Christmas when we all went to Greek Peak for some winter fun. Thanks to subzero weather for the past few weeks plenty of snow was being made at our local ski resort. Back in college and prior I was able to go skiing a few times a season and worked my way to a solid intermediate. Not quite ready for the Olympic Super-G team or the X-games, but I could get down a hill, and have a good time doing it : ) This year I considered skiing for the first time in over five years but the lift ticket and rentals for a day of skiing would cost me about three rounds of golf, so as far as hobbies go, this is one I could not continue this time.
However, the resort has an awesome deal called "Mountains of Fun" for beginner skiers or snowboarders. Twenty five bucks for one starter lift ticket, rentals and a lesson was more than a deal to try snow boarding. Five of us got snow boards while three others skied. I found the hardest part of snowboarding just standing back up while sitting on the ground - two feet strapped to the same object created all sorts of balance and center of gravity problems. I also did not like having to sit down at the top of the hill each run, something unknown to the two-plankers. By the end of our night I could make it down with less than four falls while performing minimal carving with the board. Perhaps I'll try that again sometime.
Which could be more than I can say for my wife. She missed part of the lesson to tend to Hugh (who was chilaxing in the lounge with Granddad and Granny) and then had a rough time coming down the hill the first time. I think the first attempts of snowboarding naturally involves many spills and falls, and that subsequently involves many trials of standing up again. After a few of these, Jess' plan was to just "wait until the slope closes and the staff would have to come get me!" The half-squat snowboarding stance was also wearing on her, causing a pain described as "worse than labor," though I was present during that labor and feel her statement was a little dramatic : ) Not one to give up, we tumbled down the hill and claimed success safely at the bottom. However, I am starting to think "Mountains of Fun" is just a clever marketing tactic, and not a guarantee. Beyond the ambiguous measurement unit of "mountains", I do not feel there would have been plural in her fun calculation - though a warm cocoa with Granddad and Granny afterwards may have tipped the scales.
However, the resort has an awesome deal called "Mountains of Fun" for beginner skiers or snowboarders. Twenty five bucks for one starter lift ticket, rentals and a lesson was more than a deal to try snow boarding. Five of us got snow boards while three others skied. I found the hardest part of snowboarding just standing back up while sitting on the ground - two feet strapped to the same object created all sorts of balance and center of gravity problems. I also did not like having to sit down at the top of the hill each run, something unknown to the two-plankers. By the end of our night I could make it down with less than four falls while performing minimal carving with the board. Perhaps I'll try that again sometime.
Which could be more than I can say for my wife. She missed part of the lesson to tend to Hugh (who was chilaxing in the lounge with Granddad and Granny) and then had a rough time coming down the hill the first time. I think the first attempts of snowboarding naturally involves many spills and falls, and that subsequently involves many trials of standing up again. After a few of these, Jess' plan was to just "wait until the slope closes and the staff would have to come get me!" The half-squat snowboarding stance was also wearing on her, causing a pain described as "worse than labor," though I was present during that labor and feel her statement was a little dramatic : ) Not one to give up, we tumbled down the hill and claimed success safely at the bottom. However, I am starting to think "Mountains of Fun" is just a clever marketing tactic, and not a guarantee. Beyond the ambiguous measurement unit of "mountains", I do not feel there would have been plural in her fun calculation - though a warm cocoa with Granddad and Granny afterwards may have tipped the scales.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Please Sir, May I Have Some More Kids In The House
My wife's family is in town and we are quite the crew. 15 of us in total, ranging from Granny and Granddad down to baby Hugh. 8 of us are teenagers or less, which definitely sets the tone for most of our outings. Total age for them: 62 (+/- 3). Having the adults around is nice, but the action happens 2 feet closer to the floor.
I really admire my brother in times like this, because getting 7 kids of varied ages to do the same thing, or stay focused on the same thing, is like trying to pick up jello. Just when I thought I had a firm grip on the situation, one starts wrestling the other, or another sees something elsewhere more interesting than me. To be honest, I'm not sure what you could do in some of these situtations. My bro's education might have giving him some ideas (I would have been Professor Talk-Over-and-Louder-Than-Everyone, Ph.D) but what I admire is his attitude through the whole thing. I've seen him keep going with kids long after I've had my fill, beyond patience and practice, it is a gifting of his.
Organizing the troops is tricky (impossible?), but for someone who writes about mundane happenings of their day, kids say some funny things. A good example came from dinner the other night, when I came in to take orders on our grilled hamburgers. I started talking before I had everyone's attention (Ph.D, remember? : )
"Alright, who wants cheese on their hamburger?"
A number of hands went up and I started counting.
My eldest nephew intejected, "I'll have cheese and some grilled onions."
"Uhh. . . ." and before I could be astounded, my middle nephew (of 5) added,
"Yes, I'll have the grilled onions and some sauteed mushrooms."
"Umm," I replied dryly, "you choice is 'cheese.'"
Sauteed mushrooms? What?!!
Fun times with everyone indeed, and Jess and I usually end our adventurers wondering what we'll do when Hugh isn't sleeping in his car seat or staring at inanimate objects. I suggested an anti-growth hormone, three months old is a really good age! Kids are full of energy, mischeiveious and clueless but also are joyous, loving and creative. A mix of two totally different worlds that we somehow try and fit into ours. What will we do when Hugh does not listen? When he does something wrong? When he does something great?!! When he is not doing much of anything? Lessons on parenthood are all around this week and here is my bus . . . I am getting taken to school! (Probably going to end up with a wedgie . . . atomic . . .)
I really admire my brother in times like this, because getting 7 kids of varied ages to do the same thing, or stay focused on the same thing, is like trying to pick up jello. Just when I thought I had a firm grip on the situation, one starts wrestling the other, or another sees something elsewhere more interesting than me. To be honest, I'm not sure what you could do in some of these situtations. My bro's education might have giving him some ideas (I would have been Professor Talk-Over-and-Louder-Than-Everyone, Ph.D) but what I admire is his attitude through the whole thing. I've seen him keep going with kids long after I've had my fill, beyond patience and practice, it is a gifting of his.
Organizing the troops is tricky (impossible?), but for someone who writes about mundane happenings of their day, kids say some funny things. A good example came from dinner the other night, when I came in to take orders on our grilled hamburgers. I started talking before I had everyone's attention (Ph.D, remember? : )
"Alright, who wants cheese on their hamburger?"
A number of hands went up and I started counting.
My eldest nephew intejected, "I'll have cheese and some grilled onions."
"Uhh. . . ." and before I could be astounded, my middle nephew (of 5) added,
"Yes, I'll have the grilled onions and some sauteed mushrooms."
"Umm," I replied dryly, "you choice is 'cheese.'"
Sauteed mushrooms? What?!!
Fun times with everyone indeed, and Jess and I usually end our adventurers wondering what we'll do when Hugh isn't sleeping in his car seat or staring at inanimate objects. I suggested an anti-growth hormone, three months old is a really good age! Kids are full of energy, mischeiveious and clueless but also are joyous, loving and creative. A mix of two totally different worlds that we somehow try and fit into ours. What will we do when Hugh does not listen? When he does something wrong? When he does something great?!! When he is not doing much of anything? Lessons on parenthood are all around this week and here is my bus . . . I am getting taken to school! (Probably going to end up with a wedgie . . . atomic . . .)
Saturday, December 19, 2009
There Is A First For Everything
With a baby we see lots of normal things for the first time. Every day might be full of things that we would see every other day; it would be normal and we think nothing of it, but when a baby does it we see it anew. Recently Hugh has started smiling at people, not just passing gas, and it is awesome to see. The other morning I greeted his morning cry and he gave me a big smile. Perhaps both our days started out well : )
This week we were at a Christmas party with our small group and discussing things Hugh did, and did not do, at this stage in his life. Sleeping on his back, smiling, tummy time, etc. All these things our little baby was doing. We also mentioned he should be rolling over soon, as opposed to sleeping on his back all the time, but he has not rolled over yet. We gave an example of tummy time and then, whump!, Hugh rolled over for the first time ever! It was awesome. Everyone celebrated and I'm not sure if Hugh was more surprised that he flipped to his back, or at the noise that motion caused.
Not every first involves Hugh though. This Christmas Jess' family is in town and we will be spending our first ever Christmas at home. How fun! To inaugerate the occasion we purchased a real live Christmas tree on Wednesday night, the first real tree she or I ever had. When I was a teenager I helped start the tradition in my family to move the artificial tree, still decorated, to the dining room and wrap it in plastic until after Thansgiving the next year. Not quite decking the halls, but saved a lot of hustle and bustle (mainly decoration clean up). The real tree this year is super fun, almost normal, and a great first Christmas at home, with many more firsts to see again.
This week we were at a Christmas party with our small group and discussing things Hugh did, and did not do, at this stage in his life. Sleeping on his back, smiling, tummy time, etc. All these things our little baby was doing. We also mentioned he should be rolling over soon, as opposed to sleeping on his back all the time, but he has not rolled over yet. We gave an example of tummy time and then, whump!, Hugh rolled over for the first time ever! It was awesome. Everyone celebrated and I'm not sure if Hugh was more surprised that he flipped to his back, or at the noise that motion caused.
Not every first involves Hugh though. This Christmas Jess' family is in town and we will be spending our first ever Christmas at home. How fun! To inaugerate the occasion we purchased a real live Christmas tree on Wednesday night, the first real tree she or I ever had. When I was a teenager I helped start the tradition in my family to move the artificial tree, still decorated, to the dining room and wrap it in plastic until after Thansgiving the next year. Not quite decking the halls, but saved a lot of hustle and bustle (mainly decoration clean up). The real tree this year is super fun, almost normal, and a great first Christmas at home, with many more firsts to see again.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Birthday Jorb
We know her birthday is actually tomorrow, but Jess and I went out to celebrate tonight. If all goes according to the plan, we'll be watching a movie with the youth group tomorrow evening and then heading down to York, PA! So no time for anything tomorrow. We went to the Lost Dog Cafe, our favorite restaurant in the Triple Cities, though we'd be lucky to make it there more than once a year. Great food and a grassroots sort of atmophere; it lived up to our hype yet again.
Of course we brought Hugh along to dinner and he gave mommy the best gift of the night - no crying for the entire meal : ) Our waitress stopped by to get our drink orders, was thrilled with "just water" for the both of us, and noticed Hugh in his car seat next to Jess. "You got a fresh one there!" she said, "Nice job." We chuckled, said "thank you" and all that, and the waitress was probably just making some pre-dinner banter, but we got to thinking . . . nice job for what?
Probably not "nice job for going out to eat." People go out to eat all the time. Please, my medal count before graduating high school would have made Michael Phelps train for nine next time. Perhaps "nice job for taking your baby out to dinner," which is somewhat fitting because in a few months it may not be as easy (and in a few more month he'll never see the Lost Dog again). Maybe the "nice job" was a weird plug to the genetics that made Hugh look the way he does, Triple H is a stinkin' cutie when he's sleeping. We didn't have anytime tangible to do with that, though. Jess thought maybe it was a "nice job for pushing that baby out." Ha, been there. Nice job indeed!
Whenever I hear "nice job" I can only think of mispronouncing the word as "jorb" a la a Homestar Runner cartoon I watched back in college. A co-worker of mine once said jorb was standard internet lingo these days, so whether Coach Z stole it from the interweb or everyone is watching Homestar Runner, it doesn't matter. A "nice job" is always a "nice jorb" in my book, and by the time I finish smiling about that I'll forget what the job was about anyway.
Of course we brought Hugh along to dinner and he gave mommy the best gift of the night - no crying for the entire meal : ) Our waitress stopped by to get our drink orders, was thrilled with "just water" for the both of us, and noticed Hugh in his car seat next to Jess. "You got a fresh one there!" she said, "Nice job." We chuckled, said "thank you" and all that, and the waitress was probably just making some pre-dinner banter, but we got to thinking . . . nice job for what?
Probably not "nice job for going out to eat." People go out to eat all the time. Please, my medal count before graduating high school would have made Michael Phelps train for nine next time. Perhaps "nice job for taking your baby out to dinner," which is somewhat fitting because in a few months it may not be as easy (and in a few more month he'll never see the Lost Dog again). Maybe the "nice job" was a weird plug to the genetics that made Hugh look the way he does, Triple H is a stinkin' cutie when he's sleeping. We didn't have anytime tangible to do with that, though. Jess thought maybe it was a "nice job for pushing that baby out." Ha, been there. Nice job indeed!
Whenever I hear "nice job" I can only think of mispronouncing the word as "jorb" a la a Homestar Runner cartoon I watched back in college. A co-worker of mine once said jorb was standard internet lingo these days, so whether Coach Z stole it from the interweb or everyone is watching Homestar Runner, it doesn't matter. A "nice job" is always a "nice jorb" in my book, and by the time I finish smiling about that I'll forget what the job was about anyway.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Currency Is Hard for a Dog to Understand
A foxhound is classified as a working breed. It better be, Melvin owes me ninety five bucks.
We put Melvin the foxhound outside during Thanksgiving dinner since he was sniffing like crazy at our delicious grown-up dishes. You see, a couple friends weren't meeting with their parents on Thanksgiving day this year so we had a real one at our place. Definitely a success (read: everyone was stuffed). However, towards the end of dinner our serenade from outside, compliments of Melvin, was oddly silent. Following the end of his leash line had me holding a harness with no dog inside. Big problem. Some guys took to the streets (and my neighbor's back yards) but Melvin wasn't too be found.
Actually, Melvin doesn't like to be found. He has gotten loose before and the last thing in his mind is getting back home. I saw him for a brief moment that night and called out anything I could try. "Stop." "Come here." "Wait." "Don't you take one more step!" "Please stop moving." Nothing worked; when Melvin knows he is free he does not want to get caught. Even the excitement of nine-player Nutzi could not lure him back.
The next morning we continued our search and thought we found a good lead on craigslist. I made contact with the poster who had found Melvin the night before, but her dog did not get along with him so she left Melvin go the next morning! Melvin's direction sense was no better with a good night's sleep : ) Jess, Hugh and I joined my family (and extended family!) for the next two nights and we called some animal shelters in the area. One got him on Saturday and we picked Melvin up on Monday. Thirty dollar finding fee and sixty five dollars for boarding. We're happy to have Melvin back, but play time's over, it's time to put this working breed to the test. It's nothing personal, it's just business.
We put Melvin the foxhound outside during Thanksgiving dinner since he was sniffing like crazy at our delicious grown-up dishes. You see, a couple friends weren't meeting with their parents on Thanksgiving day this year so we had a real one at our place. Definitely a success (read: everyone was stuffed). However, towards the end of dinner our serenade from outside, compliments of Melvin, was oddly silent. Following the end of his leash line had me holding a harness with no dog inside. Big problem. Some guys took to the streets (and my neighbor's back yards) but Melvin wasn't too be found.
Actually, Melvin doesn't like to be found. He has gotten loose before and the last thing in his mind is getting back home. I saw him for a brief moment that night and called out anything I could try. "Stop." "Come here." "Wait." "Don't you take one more step!" "Please stop moving." Nothing worked; when Melvin knows he is free he does not want to get caught. Even the excitement of nine-player Nutzi could not lure him back.
The next morning we continued our search and thought we found a good lead on craigslist. I made contact with the poster who had found Melvin the night before, but her dog did not get along with him so she left Melvin go the next morning! Melvin's direction sense was no better with a good night's sleep : ) Jess, Hugh and I joined my family (and extended family!) for the next two nights and we called some animal shelters in the area. One got him on Saturday and we picked Melvin up on Monday. Thirty dollar finding fee and sixty five dollars for boarding. We're happy to have Melvin back, but play time's over, it's time to put this working breed to the test. It's nothing personal, it's just business.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Everybody Loves Pumpkin Pie
Grocery shopping at our local Wegman's is sometimes hectic. That place is busy every hour of the day (probably not the night, though I have yet to take advantage of the 24 hour offering), though I have never seen it more busy than this past Sunday. It's like people need food all of a sudden! They were so busy, there wasn't a can of pumpkin for us to make a pie!
Hugh was awake when we went into the store, and two people stopped to tell us what a cute baby he was. Nice of them to stop by, though who can blame them? When his eyes are wide open he's quite a looker (pun intended). One of the ladies asked his name and liked that it was a 'normal' name. She then said she's one to talk since she named her daughter Aleeki (a Greek name), and only had to watch out for marrying someone with the last name Faucet. Hilarious.
Every isle was packed. Maneuvering the cart was a mix between the Super G and mowing the lawn. It was all about anticipation - you see someone moving toward the milk? Bam, you break for the soda. Someone parking in from of the pasta isle? Zoom, a deft turn just skimming the featured yams. The adreniline was flowing that day, my friends, and I was happy to be a part of it.
While we were filling our cart with some ingredients that we never buy, like an entire turkey, I started thinking about everybody doing their shopping. All the hustle and bustle filling the isles was to create a big meal for lots of people to share together. And some of the meals might be for family that is only seen once a year and some might be for big gatherings with more people than can comfortable fit a table (and the adjacent kids table) and some might be for a group of friends whos parents are far away. Yet it in the midst of all the chaos, and in spite of the lack of pumpkin, it was fun to prepare for a big meal with my family too. Happy Thanksgiving!
Hugh was awake when we went into the store, and two people stopped to tell us what a cute baby he was. Nice of them to stop by, though who can blame them? When his eyes are wide open he's quite a looker (pun intended). One of the ladies asked his name and liked that it was a 'normal' name. She then said she's one to talk since she named her daughter Aleeki (a Greek name), and only had to watch out for marrying someone with the last name Faucet. Hilarious.
Every isle was packed. Maneuvering the cart was a mix between the Super G and mowing the lawn. It was all about anticipation - you see someone moving toward the milk? Bam, you break for the soda. Someone parking in from of the pasta isle? Zoom, a deft turn just skimming the featured yams. The adreniline was flowing that day, my friends, and I was happy to be a part of it.
While we were filling our cart with some ingredients that we never buy, like an entire turkey, I started thinking about everybody doing their shopping. All the hustle and bustle filling the isles was to create a big meal for lots of people to share together. And some of the meals might be for family that is only seen once a year and some might be for big gatherings with more people than can comfortable fit a table (and the adjacent kids table) and some might be for a group of friends whos parents are far away. Yet it in the midst of all the chaos, and in spite of the lack of pumpkin, it was fun to prepare for a big meal with my family too. Happy Thanksgiving!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Superbowl '09
Recovery. That's the best best way to describe what's going on right now. The reason? Probably because I am old and like going to bed before 10pm if I can help it. The cause is less lame though. Friday night had me leading a team from our church to the Word Of Life Superbowl here in Binghamton. 27 teens from our church joined hundreds of others to watch a minor league hockey game, have a rally in the stands afterward with games on the ice, then stay up all night at the local university area, out at the Sportsplex Dome for indoor soccer and 50 vs 50 dodgeball, and late night bowling.There was more fun than we knew what to do with!
One of the key items to the superbowl is the speaker who presents the Gospel message. The night is hyped up as an all-night ton of fun with prizes and pizza, but there is a 40 minute segment that sometimes the kids aren't ready for. Not a true bait-and-switch, mind you, as everything that is advertised still occurs and no one can doubt the fun to be had. Even the kids who felt a little tricked last year would agree. At the end of his talk there is a call to chose Jesus and three kids from our group stood up, which is us Christians get really excited about. I checked in with one of them later in the night:
"I saw you get up [out of your seat] earlier, did you make a choice tonight?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm choosing to stay awake" was the reply.
Not quite what I was expecting but can't win them all, I guess. A few minutes later I checked in again just to make some small talk and asked about some of the prizes he caught.
"So what did you win?" I asked.
"Oh man, it was a gift from God."
"Oh really? . . ." (I already heard he got 3 months of Xbox Live and assumed that is what he referred to, in which case it was a little exaggerated . . .)
"Yeah, you know. The piece of paper. Praying."
"Salvation?" I asked.
"Yep, best prize I could have gotten. I got some Xbox Live too, but that's a close second."
Well, you know what assuming does!
I played a little Ultimate Frisbee in the dome, a bit of Ga-Ga ball at the arena and broke a hundred bowling with only professional-bowler-spin (or between the legs). Our group was pretty tired at the end of bowling and we headed back to the church. After staying up all night the kids were zonked - an even playing field for us chaperones. One got picked up and said to her driver,
"I'm really tired and want to go to bed."
Her friend said, "I'm eating candy and drinking soda and am hyper."
There was a mix of energy, I guess. Perhaps that's the trick to recovery, more candy and soda! Maybe I'll just go to sleep like an 80 year old at 7pm. I'll need all the sleep I can get to keep up with kids these days, though thankfully Hugh still sleeps more than I do : )
One of the key items to the superbowl is the speaker who presents the Gospel message. The night is hyped up as an all-night ton of fun with prizes and pizza, but there is a 40 minute segment that sometimes the kids aren't ready for. Not a true bait-and-switch, mind you, as everything that is advertised still occurs and no one can doubt the fun to be had. Even the kids who felt a little tricked last year would agree. At the end of his talk there is a call to chose Jesus and three kids from our group stood up, which is us Christians get really excited about. I checked in with one of them later in the night:
"I saw you get up [out of your seat] earlier, did you make a choice tonight?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm choosing to stay awake" was the reply.
Not quite what I was expecting but can't win them all, I guess. A few minutes later I checked in again just to make some small talk and asked about some of the prizes he caught.
"So what did you win?" I asked.
"Oh man, it was a gift from God."
"Oh really? . . ." (I already heard he got 3 months of Xbox Live and assumed that is what he referred to, in which case it was a little exaggerated . . .)
"Yeah, you know. The piece of paper. Praying."
"Salvation?" I asked.
"Yep, best prize I could have gotten. I got some Xbox Live too, but that's a close second."
Well, you know what assuming does!
I played a little Ultimate Frisbee in the dome, a bit of Ga-Ga ball at the arena and broke a hundred bowling with only professional-bowler-spin (or between the legs). Our group was pretty tired at the end of bowling and we headed back to the church. After staying up all night the kids were zonked - an even playing field for us chaperones. One got picked up and said to her driver,
"I'm really tired and want to go to bed."
Her friend said, "I'm eating candy and drinking soda and am hyper."
There was a mix of energy, I guess. Perhaps that's the trick to recovery, more candy and soda! Maybe I'll just go to sleep like an 80 year old at 7pm. I'll need all the sleep I can get to keep up with kids these days, though thankfully Hugh still sleeps more than I do : )
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Time Flies While You're Standing Still
Hugh is eight weeks old today and I'm finding that he is changing the way time goes by. Not literally, of course, though that would be an acceptable mutant power. Just in the way I view certain time periods. A lot of parents, who defacto have more parenting experience than I do, always say things like, "Enjoy them now, they grow up so fast," or "They don't stay at this stage forever." Time must be thought about a lot during parenting, so I'd better to my part (no, my duty!) and think about it here on theWide World of Web.
Sometimes I think time flies by with Hugh. Weekdays are gone so fast and there I times when I hardly see the kid! He's an excellent baby and does a great job at sleeping and not crying. He's often asleep in the morning when I leave (which is just before or after his breakfast, but either way we see very little of each other for anatomical reasons) and depending how things work out he's asleep when I get home from work! I might see him for a bit, but Jess and I have not given up anything in our evenings and Hugh will come along sleeping soundly in his car seat. Those days go fast.
Other days go nice and slow. Weekends rock! I'd constantly hum Loverboy's "Everybody's Living for the Weekend" during my days at work if only I could keep from chuckling to myself thinking about Patrick Swayze and Chris Farley's skit on SNL. Hugh may be 2 months old but they have been a slow two months. Sometimes I can't remember what I did a week or a month or a year ago, but with Hugh I feel like my time being a parent is going at just the right speed. We've had late nights and gross diapers mixed with playtime, clothes that are finally fitting and starting smiles. It's been a great two months so far, and if Hugh keeps growing at this speed, I'd say time is on my side.
Sometimes I think time flies by with Hugh. Weekdays are gone so fast and there I times when I hardly see the kid! He's an excellent baby and does a great job at sleeping and not crying. He's often asleep in the morning when I leave (which is just before or after his breakfast, but either way we see very little of each other for anatomical reasons) and depending how things work out he's asleep when I get home from work! I might see him for a bit, but Jess and I have not given up anything in our evenings and Hugh will come along sleeping soundly in his car seat. Those days go fast.
Other days go nice and slow. Weekends rock! I'd constantly hum Loverboy's "Everybody's Living for the Weekend" during my days at work if only I could keep from chuckling to myself thinking about Patrick Swayze and Chris Farley's skit on SNL. Hugh may be 2 months old but they have been a slow two months. Sometimes I can't remember what I did a week or a month or a year ago, but with Hugh I feel like my time being a parent is going at just the right speed. We've had late nights and gross diapers mixed with playtime, clothes that are finally fitting and starting smiles. It's been a great two months so far, and if Hugh keeps growing at this speed, I'd say time is on my side.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Candy Kong
I'm not sure if I'm on the verge of a great idea or something stupid. Rumor has it the line between genius and crazy are very close! (Though I bet more crazy people say that than the geniuses : )
After Halloween there is a ton of candy around our house. It's all over the desks at work. It's everywhere! I likely eat more candy after Halloween than I do the rest of the year, almost certainly choclate candy bars. My favorite candy is Skittles, which has 0% chocolate, and throughout the year when I would have the choice of all types of candy at a store, Skittles is the choice of champions. But for some reason we always have a lot of chocolate bars (3 Musketeers, Milky Way, Snickers, Twix, etc) around out house after Halloween. There is plenty of chocolate to eat, perhaps even too much.
Now the problem with chocolate bars, especially the mini bars, is they dissapear so quickly! I can eat one in a single bite and it is gone in a few chews. Satisfying and delicious for about 15 seconds then I'm left alone with that weird candy-film on my teeth. Typically the answer is another candy bar, and it would not be uncommon to eat two to three in a sitting. I mean, c'mon, they're small!
A great invention would be something that keeps the taste of the candy bar in your mouth longer, without requiring you to eat one after the other like a Hungry Hungry Hippo (no puns intended). The makers of the doggie Kong can keep a dog entertained for entire minutes at a time (converted to human time that's like a feature length movie or how long it feels to watch 3 frames of professional bowling), having a simple treat last much longer than normal. Imagine for a moment a small mesh of this rubber, forming a sort of cage, that would fit, say, half a mini candy bar in one end. This "Candy Kong" would allow a candy bar to be chewed for minutes, evenly dispensing the melting chocolate (and caramel, nougat, and candy cookie crunch) over that period of time. Ten times the delicious satisfaction for a fraction of the calories and guilt (and is dishwasher safe!)
I'm counting this post as the copyright for my big idea. Is it a good one? Piece of junk? Maybe it's hard to tell. After all, it is a fine line between genius and crazy.
After Halloween there is a ton of candy around our house. It's all over the desks at work. It's everywhere! I likely eat more candy after Halloween than I do the rest of the year, almost certainly choclate candy bars. My favorite candy is Skittles, which has 0% chocolate, and throughout the year when I would have the choice of all types of candy at a store, Skittles is the choice of champions. But for some reason we always have a lot of chocolate bars (3 Musketeers, Milky Way, Snickers, Twix, etc) around out house after Halloween. There is plenty of chocolate to eat, perhaps even too much.
Now the problem with chocolate bars, especially the mini bars, is they dissapear so quickly! I can eat one in a single bite and it is gone in a few chews. Satisfying and delicious for about 15 seconds then I'm left alone with that weird candy-film on my teeth. Typically the answer is another candy bar, and it would not be uncommon to eat two to three in a sitting. I mean, c'mon, they're small!
A great invention would be something that keeps the taste of the candy bar in your mouth longer, without requiring you to eat one after the other like a Hungry Hungry Hippo (no puns intended). The makers of the doggie Kong can keep a dog entertained for entire minutes at a time (converted to human time that's like a feature length movie or how long it feels to watch 3 frames of professional bowling), having a simple treat last much longer than normal. Imagine for a moment a small mesh of this rubber, forming a sort of cage, that would fit, say, half a mini candy bar in one end. This "Candy Kong" would allow a candy bar to be chewed for minutes, evenly dispensing the melting chocolate (and caramel, nougat, and candy cookie crunch) over that period of time. Ten times the delicious satisfaction for a fraction of the calories and guilt (and is dishwasher safe!)
I'm counting this post as the copyright for my big idea. Is it a good one? Piece of junk? Maybe it's hard to tell. After all, it is a fine line between genius and crazy.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Candy and Penn State
Baby Hugh's first Halloween was tonight. We did not get him a costume, he is just starting to fit into normal clothes as it is, but we did have a pumpkin hat and two pumpkin booties that we put him in. Maybe he was dressed as a pumpkin patch : ) Our nephews came to the neighborhood for some trick-or-treating too, which made the night very fun.
One dressed as a G.I. Joe (either Snake Eyes or Heavy Duty, it was hard to tell), one was an Army Commander and one was Optimus Prime. I put a bandanna on Melvin and he looked like a cowboy dog. More dressed up than myself for sure, since the only thing I put on was my coat. Back in 9th grade I wore a non-costume for school and stole Wednesday Adams' line that "I'm a homicidal maniac, they look just like everyone else," which my teacher did not find funny. So tonight, "no costume" was just "no costume" - a boring adult. Beyond my mundane costume, or lack of one, I was also warned by one of the nephews "not to let Melvin get away or someone will sacrifice him." Good advice, I'd say.
Then it was time to ask for candy ("treats", if you will) at stranger's houses, in the middle of the night, for no real reason at all. And they gave it to us! We didn't have to try very hard though. I saw one kid wearing black shorts and a long sleeved shirt just walking from house to house. No shame whatsoever; this was free-candy-night, after all. One house in our neighborhood had a Penn State windsock in their garden and we told the kids to say "Go Penn State!" after thanking them for the candy. They forgot at that house, but did remember to say it at the next five! Everyone was pretty confused (or "tricked" if you will).
Gobs of candy later we all made it home. Even Melvin. It was a fun night and Hugh slept through most of it. Future years will bring other thoughts and decisions on All Hallow's Eve concerning Hugh, but this year is finished with more candy than we can eat. Go Penn State!
One dressed as a G.I. Joe (either Snake Eyes or Heavy Duty, it was hard to tell), one was an Army Commander and one was Optimus Prime. I put a bandanna on Melvin and he looked like a cowboy dog. More dressed up than myself for sure, since the only thing I put on was my coat. Back in 9th grade I wore a non-costume for school and stole Wednesday Adams' line that "I'm a homicidal maniac, they look just like everyone else," which my teacher did not find funny. So tonight, "no costume" was just "no costume" - a boring adult. Beyond my mundane costume, or lack of one, I was also warned by one of the nephews "not to let Melvin get away or someone will sacrifice him." Good advice, I'd say.
Then it was time to ask for candy ("treats", if you will) at stranger's houses, in the middle of the night, for no real reason at all. And they gave it to us! We didn't have to try very hard though. I saw one kid wearing black shorts and a long sleeved shirt just walking from house to house. No shame whatsoever; this was free-candy-night, after all. One house in our neighborhood had a Penn State windsock in their garden and we told the kids to say "Go Penn State!" after thanking them for the candy. They forgot at that house, but did remember to say it at the next five! Everyone was pretty confused (or "tricked" if you will).
Gobs of candy later we all made it home. Even Melvin. It was a fun night and Hugh slept through most of it. Future years will bring other thoughts and decisions on All Hallow's Eve concerning Hugh, but this year is finished with more candy than we can eat. Go Penn State!
Friday, October 23, 2009
Eating Out - Volume 1
Eating out is something Jess and I enjoy doing, though we're finding that with our kid things as simple as eating out require a little more planning. The company, whether just the two of us or with friends, is a great reason to go but sometimes the spontaneity was a reward in itself. It meant a quick meal with no cooking, no dishes afterward, and usually was a meal we couldn't prepare ourselves. Winners all around!
Today it was three of us that went out for some errends and appointments, and after we were finished stopped for a quick bite to eat. Those that had been through this already might attest, but there are pros and cons to going out to eat with a newborn (5 weeks tomorrow!). The pro is they could care less about their surroundings, which changes by the time they are, say, 4 years old and dream of the next chance to enter Chuck E Cheeses. You could put a new born on top of the fridge for a while and they really wouldn't care, and so our current locale's lack of "chicken fingers and fries" isn't a problem. However, the newborn schedule is something that must be considered, especially when mom's on the menu.
Taking the baby out to eat, or rather, out of the house to eat, is probably something that takes some getting use to for first-time moms. There's a little awkwardness to the whole ordeal. Us guys can't really relate; the closest I can come up with is trying to pee in a bottle while sitting at the table. Sure, it's easy when you're at home, ch'laxin' on the couch, watching an episode of Gilmore Girls, but getting all the parts together in public while avoiding causing a scene isn't easy. And did I mention the only utensils provided at Samauri Sushi were chopsticks? Perhaps a little planning will be in order next time, though perhaps eating in shifts is the new romantic dinner.
As I went to feed the meter because lunch went 40 minutes longer than expected, I was thankful for two things. First, Samauri Sushi's lunch rush dies down past 1pm and that we were the only people in the place. And secondly, that we survived the first meal away from home, as a table for three, and it will be doable again. At least until Volume 2.
Today it was three of us that went out for some errends and appointments, and after we were finished stopped for a quick bite to eat. Those that had been through this already might attest, but there are pros and cons to going out to eat with a newborn (5 weeks tomorrow!). The pro is they could care less about their surroundings, which changes by the time they are, say, 4 years old and dream of the next chance to enter Chuck E Cheeses. You could put a new born on top of the fridge for a while and they really wouldn't care, and so our current locale's lack of "chicken fingers and fries" isn't a problem. However, the newborn schedule is something that must be considered, especially when mom's on the menu.
Taking the baby out to eat, or rather, out of the house to eat, is probably something that takes some getting use to for first-time moms. There's a little awkwardness to the whole ordeal. Us guys can't really relate; the closest I can come up with is trying to pee in a bottle while sitting at the table. Sure, it's easy when you're at home, ch'laxin' on the couch, watching an episode of Gilmore Girls, but getting all the parts together in public while avoiding causing a scene isn't easy. And did I mention the only utensils provided at Samauri Sushi were chopsticks? Perhaps a little planning will be in order next time, though perhaps eating in shifts is the new romantic dinner.
As I went to feed the meter because lunch went 40 minutes longer than expected, I was thankful for two things. First, Samauri Sushi's lunch rush dies down past 1pm and that we were the only people in the place. And secondly, that we survived the first meal away from home, as a table for three, and it will be doable again. At least until Volume 2.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Happy Month Day
Today is Hugh's month-iversary! Hooray! I remember when I was one month old. Ahh, what memories! Actually I don't remember a thing. That was 2 days and 328 months ago for crying out loud! I mean, if you named 7 babies that were all born in November 2007, I'd be older than all of them combined! (Plus it'd be odd that you knew all those babies).
I don't think Hugh realizes how old he is either. Rumor has it he does not even know he has hands yet. And it sure does not feel like I've been a parent for a month. Jess and I are getting into the swing of things and it feels like we could have been doing this for longer. Like the time is flying by, a feeling I'm sure parents of older children (or grandchildren!) can relate to.
The thing is, we could not possibly have done it any longer. The phase of sleeping, eating and pooping is not that long of a time and no one can get use to the same phase for that long. Things are always changing. Just today I think Hugh waved at me with those hands that may or may not exist (though it also could have been gas). I'm excited for the changes that are on the way, month one was alright.
And if your double-checking my math from up there, I hope you're looking forward to some changes too. Seriously, lame.
I don't think Hugh realizes how old he is either. Rumor has it he does not even know he has hands yet. And it sure does not feel like I've been a parent for a month. Jess and I are getting into the swing of things and it feels like we could have been doing this for longer. Like the time is flying by, a feeling I'm sure parents of older children (or grandchildren!) can relate to.
The thing is, we could not possibly have done it any longer. The phase of sleeping, eating and pooping is not that long of a time and no one can get use to the same phase for that long. Things are always changing. Just today I think Hugh waved at me with those hands that may or may not exist (though it also could have been gas). I'm excited for the changes that are on the way, month one was alright.
And if your double-checking my math from up there, I hope you're looking forward to some changes too. Seriously, lame.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Get Your Epipen
Jess and I were discussing the other day of why some babies get allergies, and some others don't. Is it genetics? Is it environment? We're not really sure. We're also not doctors so it is OK to not be sure : ) Some kids seem to be allergic to everything and some kids are allergic to nothing. Some allergies are for things that have to do with smelling ("achoo" is the biggest sign of an allergy to me) like flowers and pets, but some are for other things, like gress, bee stings and peanuts. And those last two are sometimes really serious from puffy faces to hospital visits.
What type of kid will Hugh be? Do our dog hair covered floors means he'll be more or less susceptible to dog allergies? Will we have to make sure his friends don't bring PB&J in their lunches because of the risk of peanut dust? Will we have to carry epipens and assume jamming a needle into his leg is a good thing?!! Hopefully it's just genetic because I'm not allergic to anything (that I know of yet) and Jess isn't allergic to much; just a little bit to cats and vanillia handcream. I told her a cat covered in vanillia handcream would really give her trouble!
[A few TV seasons ago Jess and I watched Beatuy and The Geek quite faithfully. A contestant on the show (one of the geeks) had to make up a comedy routine and I'll paraphrase it here since I couldn't stop thinking about it when we were talking about allergies.]
People are always allergic to small things, like dust or bugs. I'm sure it would be annoying to break out in hives because of something you can't even see. If we are going to be allergic to something, why couldn't it be for something that we really wanted to avoid. Like tigers and sharks. If I were alergic to tigers and broke out in hives, I'd know to watch out because a tiger was around. Or if I'm swimming and get a rash on my arm, I'd know a shark was out ot get me. "Uh oh, I'm breaking out in hives too! Must be a tiger shark." I hope Hugh isn't allergic to anything, but we'll have to see. It's not like an epipen would do much against a tiger shark, anyway.
What type of kid will Hugh be? Do our dog hair covered floors means he'll be more or less susceptible to dog allergies? Will we have to make sure his friends don't bring PB&J in their lunches because of the risk of peanut dust? Will we have to carry epipens and assume jamming a needle into his leg is a good thing?!! Hopefully it's just genetic because I'm not allergic to anything (that I know of yet) and Jess isn't allergic to much; just a little bit to cats and vanillia handcream. I told her a cat covered in vanillia handcream would really give her trouble!
[A few TV seasons ago Jess and I watched Beatuy and The Geek quite faithfully. A contestant on the show (one of the geeks) had to make up a comedy routine and I'll paraphrase it here since I couldn't stop thinking about it when we were talking about allergies.]
People are always allergic to small things, like dust or bugs. I'm sure it would be annoying to break out in hives because of something you can't even see. If we are going to be allergic to something, why couldn't it be for something that we really wanted to avoid. Like tigers and sharks. If I were alergic to tigers and broke out in hives, I'd know to watch out because a tiger was around. Or if I'm swimming and get a rash on my arm, I'd know a shark was out ot get me. "Uh oh, I'm breaking out in hives too! Must be a tiger shark." I hope Hugh isn't allergic to anything, but we'll have to see. It's not like an epipen would do much against a tiger shark, anyway.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Cute as a Button
I don't know where the phrase "cute as a button" comes from. Sometimes people say that about babies and, while I get the idea, it seems to have nothing to do with buttons. Buttons on a whole aren't particularly cute, but I don't want to discuss the looks and people's general feelings on buttons.
I do, however, love to find buttons on the ground. Yesterday while I was walking Melvin and saw a gray button in the street! It was awesome. Not the button itself, which was scratched and filthy, but just the act of finding a button along the road. When finding things on the ground, on a scale from zero to finding loose change, a button is an easy eleven. I always wonder how the button got there in the first place. Did it fall off at that exact spot? Did something make it fall off? Are there a slew of buttons in the general area (as would be the case most every time the Incredible Hulk transformed)? Mundane and excitement and intrigue all in one!
Most buttons just get stored someplace in the house while a few (lucky) buttons get used on clothes. I have a neon green button on a pair of navy blue shorts and another found button is holding up my olive green work pants. Net savings are probably in the tens of cents! Hopefully I'll find more buttons while I walk and maybe you'll keep your eyes open as well. Missing the opportunity of finding a button is anything but cute.
I do, however, love to find buttons on the ground. Yesterday while I was walking Melvin and saw a gray button in the street! It was awesome. Not the button itself, which was scratched and filthy, but just the act of finding a button along the road. When finding things on the ground, on a scale from zero to finding loose change, a button is an easy eleven. I always wonder how the button got there in the first place. Did it fall off at that exact spot? Did something make it fall off? Are there a slew of buttons in the general area (as would be the case most every time the Incredible Hulk transformed)? Mundane and excitement and intrigue all in one!
Most buttons just get stored someplace in the house while a few (lucky) buttons get used on clothes. I have a neon green button on a pair of navy blue shorts and another found button is holding up my olive green work pants. Net savings are probably in the tens of cents! Hopefully I'll find more buttons while I walk and maybe you'll keep your eyes open as well. Missing the opportunity of finding a button is anything but cute.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
They Say It Is Impossible
I always find myself rooting for Brett Favre. Being ushered out of Green Bay and the media circus about un-retiring every year makes me root for him all the more. When everyone says he too old and can't play anymore, I find it awesome to see him still winning games. (Interesting fact: Favre has beaten every team in the NFL at least once. Not bad : ) And this might sound blasphemous here in NY, but I was rooting for the Patriots in Super Bowl 42. Not for Brady or Moss, but just to see the 19-0 season. What are the chances of seeing that? If "they" say it can't be done, well, there's someting inside me that wants to see the impossible happen!
The day before Jess and I traveled to the hospital she posted on Facebook, "What should Clay and I do our last weekend as a childless couple?" We got a ton of responses: Go to a movie. Have a nice dinner. Get some sleep. Get an egg. Get a haircut. We were not able to do any of those things : ) Now we're thrown into the life of parents with a list of things that we'll have a hard time doing. "Just try and go to the movies." "Good luck getting anywhere on time - heck, within 15 minutes of the start time." "Kiss any spare time good bye!"
Before we had Hugh (and Melvin, for that matter), I had a zillion things I wanted to do and yet never did. Program something (anything!) outside of work. Be in shape. Paint war gaming miniatures I've been working on for months, soon to be years. Play 10% of the video games I've only read about. Read more than two books a year. All that seems like an impossible task, on top of some 'simple' things like taking Jess to a movie or being on time anywhere. Honestly, I still hope to do all that stuff. And until Hugh graduates from High School, I'll still hope to do the impossible. Pull a mini-Brett Favre, if you will, in the face of everyone that says it couldn't be done (minus the multi-million dollar paycheck).
The day before Jess and I traveled to the hospital she posted on Facebook, "What should Clay and I do our last weekend as a childless couple?" We got a ton of responses: Go to a movie. Have a nice dinner. Get some sleep. Get an egg. Get a haircut. We were not able to do any of those things : ) Now we're thrown into the life of parents with a list of things that we'll have a hard time doing. "Just try and go to the movies." "Good luck getting anywhere on time - heck, within 15 minutes of the start time." "Kiss any spare time good bye!"
Before we had Hugh (and Melvin, for that matter), I had a zillion things I wanted to do and yet never did. Program something (anything!) outside of work. Be in shape. Paint war gaming miniatures I've been working on for months, soon to be years. Play 10% of the video games I've only read about. Read more than two books a year. All that seems like an impossible task, on top of some 'simple' things like taking Jess to a movie or being on time anywhere. Honestly, I still hope to do all that stuff. And until Hugh graduates from High School, I'll still hope to do the impossible. Pull a mini-Brett Favre, if you will, in the face of everyone that says it couldn't be done (minus the multi-million dollar paycheck).
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Selective Hearing
The plan is to keep Hugh so use to ambient noise that he can sleep anywhere. Door clicking as we leave the room, no problem. Footsteps down the stairs, not a stir. Roaring laughter while watching The Office or screaming when Penn State scores a touchdown, sound asleep. Theory always has a lot of potential, right? : ) A big test was our first morning at church today. Hugh slept through all of Pastor Gary's sermon, and while that isn't a telling feat on its own, he also slept through all the music which was a lot louder. (I'll avoid any jokes suggesting that this behavior is genetic, or that it skips a generation, Gramps : )
A larger test probably occurred the night before during a goodbye party for a friend moving down to Georgia. Football was on, food was being eaten and the conversations were all over the place. Some people might have described the words as "colorful language." If color was an accurate measure, we would have needed a kaleidoscope or spectrometer to classify certain phrases! Hugh slept through everything though (thank goodness!), and the chance of him remembering or understanding anything is about as likely as a certain 6'4" guy thinking he could be Notre Dame's leprechaun just because he has red hair.
It was just that day I found out babies can only see around 8"-12" and everything else is nothing. Scent might be working but even hearing isn't great at this point. So whatever was going on that night may not have mattered to Hugh, though at some point it might. A few months and years down the road I'm hoping to continue seeing my friends and doubt certain conversions will reflect the Cleavers, but what then? Ear plugs crossed my mind, but TV and movies and every place will have sounds I deem inappropriate and sights my kid should not see. Every parent runs into it a some point I suppose, and maybe I have a little extra time to prepare. Can't shield a child from everything, and I hope he'll be willing to take my advice - and maybe, just maybe, if I do things right he'll still sleep right through it.
A larger test probably occurred the night before during a goodbye party for a friend moving down to Georgia. Football was on, food was being eaten and the conversations were all over the place. Some people might have described the words as "colorful language." If color was an accurate measure, we would have needed a kaleidoscope or spectrometer to classify certain phrases! Hugh slept through everything though (thank goodness!), and the chance of him remembering or understanding anything is about as likely as a certain 6'4" guy thinking he could be Notre Dame's leprechaun just because he has red hair.
It was just that day I found out babies can only see around 8"-12" and everything else is nothing. Scent might be working but even hearing isn't great at this point. So whatever was going on that night may not have mattered to Hugh, though at some point it might. A few months and years down the road I'm hoping to continue seeing my friends and doubt certain conversions will reflect the Cleavers, but what then? Ear plugs crossed my mind, but TV and movies and every place will have sounds I deem inappropriate and sights my kid should not see. Every parent runs into it a some point I suppose, and maybe I have a little extra time to prepare. Can't shield a child from everything, and I hope he'll be willing to take my advice - and maybe, just maybe, if I do things right he'll still sleep right through it.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Normal Things, Like Cats and Bananas
When you have a kid everyone wants to talk to you. People that have kids and people who's kids have grown up. Even people that are thinking about kids. Probably works best for your first kid though, the more you have the more people are worried about getting stuck in babysitter duty.
The only problem with all the talking about kids is that all the talk is about the kid. Hugh is nearly two weeks old and a common conversation is about how much sleep I'm getting. I'm more than willing to talk about it, of course, anything to keep my eyes open! Eating, diapers, teething - these will be prime conversation starters in the next few weeks.
Yet this all seems so normal. A few years ago (college or just after) I could really care less about the functionality of cloth diapers or the sleep habits of newborns or their parents! Most conversations on sleep habits hovered around how much Counter Strike I played the night before and that I almost slept through lunch. But now, boring is the new normal! Going to work. Mowing the lawn. Having kids. Life is happening, and it's still fun to talk about.
Which is why on my way out of work today, when I heard someone say, "Yes, I'll pick up the cat and get you bananas," I hardly thought anything of it. Just normal conversation for normal folks : )
The only problem with all the talking about kids is that all the talk is about the kid. Hugh is nearly two weeks old and a common conversation is about how much sleep I'm getting. I'm more than willing to talk about it, of course, anything to keep my eyes open! Eating, diapers, teething - these will be prime conversation starters in the next few weeks.
Yet this all seems so normal. A few years ago (college or just after) I could really care less about the functionality of cloth diapers or the sleep habits of newborns or their parents! Most conversations on sleep habits hovered around how much Counter Strike I played the night before and that I almost slept through lunch. But now, boring is the new normal! Going to work. Mowing the lawn. Having kids. Life is happening, and it's still fun to talk about.
Which is why on my way out of work today, when I heard someone say, "Yes, I'll pick up the cat and get you bananas," I hardly thought anything of it. Just normal conversation for normal folks : )
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Introductions
We live in a neighborhood and have, get this, neighbors.
Our neighbors are older than us and we chat sometimes about little things. The golf game. Business at work. Vacations. How long it's been since I've mowed the lawn. What I could do about the weeds in my grass. You know, helpful things : ) Their kids have long moved out and we just started filling up the house with babies and dogs. Different stages, I suppose, but I enjoy having nice neighbors.
The funny thing about neighbors that one is not close with, and yet live very close to, is all that can be seen going on through the windows of a house. You notice their comings and goings. When they walk their pets and when they stay at home. Definitely notice when they mow their grass, and how much longer mine looks in comparison. On our way to the hospital, while we were installing the car seat, our neighbor across the street stopped by and joked we might be needing that soon. He was quite right!
My parents came to visit this weekend and it was a fun visit. They got to see baby Hugh again and met Melvin for the first time. I don't think my dad will be rushing out to get a dog anytime, but they got along pretty well. My dad also met our neighbor and a funny conversion occurred.
He just put Melvin on his leash line in the backyard and walked to the front yard.
Our neighbor to the left asked him, "So, is it a boy or a girl?"
"A boy."
"What's his name?"
"Melvin."
"Oh, that's a unique name," she replied.
"Well," my dad said, "they gave him that name at the shelter."
I'm sure the awkward pause was deafening : ) Soon they realized they were not on the same page and Hugh's name actually came up. We'll show Hugh around the neighborhood soon and he too can meet the neighbors. I'll keep peering through my blinds to see when they're home.
Our neighbors are older than us and we chat sometimes about little things. The golf game. Business at work. Vacations. How long it's been since I've mowed the lawn. What I could do about the weeds in my grass. You know, helpful things : ) Their kids have long moved out and we just started filling up the house with babies and dogs. Different stages, I suppose, but I enjoy having nice neighbors.
The funny thing about neighbors that one is not close with, and yet live very close to, is all that can be seen going on through the windows of a house. You notice their comings and goings. When they walk their pets and when they stay at home. Definitely notice when they mow their grass, and how much longer mine looks in comparison. On our way to the hospital, while we were installing the car seat, our neighbor across the street stopped by and joked we might be needing that soon. He was quite right!
My parents came to visit this weekend and it was a fun visit. They got to see baby Hugh again and met Melvin for the first time. I don't think my dad will be rushing out to get a dog anytime, but they got along pretty well. My dad also met our neighbor and a funny conversion occurred.
He just put Melvin on his leash line in the backyard and walked to the front yard.
Our neighbor to the left asked him, "So, is it a boy or a girl?"
"A boy."
"What's his name?"
"Melvin."
"Oh, that's a unique name," she replied.
"Well," my dad said, "they gave him that name at the shelter."
I'm sure the awkward pause was deafening : ) Soon they realized they were not on the same page and Hugh's name actually came up. We'll show Hugh around the neighborhood soon and he too can meet the neighbors. I'll keep peering through my blinds to see when they're home.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Melvin, I forgot the bag.
I have a pet Foxhound named Melvin. Jess and I thought it would be a brilliant idea to get one more thing to take care of one month before we had a baby. I mean, if life is about to drastically change, why not make it spectacular?!! Melvin has a calm demeanor but is quite clueless. He was found as a stray by the local animal shelter and doesn't even know his name, but is a happy dog and loves to sniff things.
Melvin and I go for walks in the morning, usually before Jess is awake. That's not really the case anymore since Jess is awake all through the night thanks to another responsibility we added to our home. On our walks Melvin likes to do two major things: sniff things and pee. Sometimes he likes to sniff things and then pee on them, though he rarely pees on something and then sniffs it. I wonder what his life as a stray was like and feel I don't have to imagine that much : )
Once a morning during our walk Melvin also does "something else", and while it does follow some intense sniffing, it ain't pretty. It is also why most dog owners are often carrying around a plastic bag with them because, for some sick reason, they like to store dog poop in their garage. I even look forward to this time during a morning. Not for the smell or having it squish in the bag when I pick it up (though if it were not poop it would feel pretty nice), but if it is done outside then it stands a better chance of not being done inside!
Two mornings ago I made a grave mistake. The logic was in my head but it didn't follow Melvin out the front door. We were two blocks down when the thought hit me like a sack of potatoes - I forgot the bag. This is quite disasterous when living in a neighborhood as there are those people who don't wish to have mounds of crap placed in their front yard. I spent the next few minutes looking for anything I could find to deal with the enevitable. (I opted for a handful of giant leaves and some masterful engineering that allowed me to handle the load without actually touching it.) The feeling of forgetting the bag was not really about the poop, but of dropping the ball with something I am responsible for. It was gross, but somewhat inconsequential. I think a lot more these days about my responsibilities to other things, hoping not to forget the bag and still enjoy the walk every morning. Melvin gave me a sniff and we made it home.
Later.
Melvin and I go for walks in the morning, usually before Jess is awake. That's not really the case anymore since Jess is awake all through the night thanks to another responsibility we added to our home. On our walks Melvin likes to do two major things: sniff things and pee. Sometimes he likes to sniff things and then pee on them, though he rarely pees on something and then sniffs it. I wonder what his life as a stray was like and feel I don't have to imagine that much : )
Once a morning during our walk Melvin also does "something else", and while it does follow some intense sniffing, it ain't pretty. It is also why most dog owners are often carrying around a plastic bag with them because, for some sick reason, they like to store dog poop in their garage. I even look forward to this time during a morning. Not for the smell or having it squish in the bag when I pick it up (though if it were not poop it would feel pretty nice), but if it is done outside then it stands a better chance of not being done inside!
Two mornings ago I made a grave mistake. The logic was in my head but it didn't follow Melvin out the front door. We were two blocks down when the thought hit me like a sack of potatoes - I forgot the bag. This is quite disasterous when living in a neighborhood as there are those people who don't wish to have mounds of crap placed in their front yard. I spent the next few minutes looking for anything I could find to deal with the enevitable. (I opted for a handful of giant leaves and some masterful engineering that allowed me to handle the load without actually touching it.) The feeling of forgetting the bag was not really about the poop, but of dropping the ball with something I am responsible for. It was gross, but somewhat inconsequential. I think a lot more these days about my responsibilities to other things, hoping not to forget the bag and still enjoy the walk every morning. Melvin gave me a sniff and we made it home.
Later.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
That's Why It Is Called Labor
Friday evening was pretty par for the course. Jess and I were at a going-away party for a coworker of mine doing normal things like eating pizza, ogling over iPhones (mainly me) and playing with our host's kid's Thomas the Tank Engine train station. For being 39 weeks pregnant Jess still got around very well and never seemed hindered by this growing baby.
Saturday morning around 4:30am she woke up to some contractions, and then I woke up to Jess telling me about contractions. She had felt them before, but these were consistent all morning. We called the doctor around 9am who suggested we go to the hospital to just get checked out, and thankfully we did some things we've been meaning to do like pack a bag for the hospital, install a car seat and clean the house. We really didn't think much of it and took our grocery list, shopping coupon and appetites for the fun last weekend (including lunch) we would have as parents. Looking back, "fun" might not be the adjective I'd use to describe everything . . .
The nurses got her suited up in a gown with broken ties in the back and checked for any signs that a baby might be on the way. After initial measurements we were going to walk around for a bit: no changes probably meant come back later and big changes meant baby's coming. First things first, we got a second gown to avoid giving a show to Floor 5 and then, sploosh! (that's called onomatopoeia), her water broke and it was time to get comfy.
Comfy during labor is easier said than done, however. The sheer physics of it all imply massive pain even if everything goes right! The nurses put us in a room and gave us many options to distract from the pain - shower, exercise ball (shaped more like an exercise peanut), walking around, a fancy bed - but that's all it was, a distraction. It can't be sped up (safely) and it only gets harder. I tried to be helpful and soothing, but at one point all we could do was wait for the next contraction to come, sitting in silence and thinking about nothing and lots of things at the same time. To put it a different way, the amount of time I had to read my Sports Illustrated went down as the intensity of the contractions went up. That's why it is called labor.
Jess is one tough cookie though, that's all I can say. All that pain, that I was helpless to do anything about, and then baby Hugh came out. Really amazing that this little guy who we've been waiting on for 9+ months finally was here. It was suddenly obvious that Hugh was a person in the world, I was a father, Jess was a mother, and we never did this before! At least the hard part is over, right?
Later.
Saturday morning around 4:30am she woke up to some contractions, and then I woke up to Jess telling me about contractions. She had felt them before, but these were consistent all morning. We called the doctor around 9am who suggested we go to the hospital to just get checked out, and thankfully we did some things we've been meaning to do like pack a bag for the hospital, install a car seat and clean the house. We really didn't think much of it and took our grocery list, shopping coupon and appetites for the fun last weekend (including lunch) we would have as parents. Looking back, "fun" might not be the adjective I'd use to describe everything . . .
The nurses got her suited up in a gown with broken ties in the back and checked for any signs that a baby might be on the way. After initial measurements we were going to walk around for a bit: no changes probably meant come back later and big changes meant baby's coming. First things first, we got a second gown to avoid giving a show to Floor 5 and then, sploosh! (that's called onomatopoeia), her water broke and it was time to get comfy.
Comfy during labor is easier said than done, however. The sheer physics of it all imply massive pain even if everything goes right! The nurses put us in a room and gave us many options to distract from the pain - shower, exercise ball (shaped more like an exercise peanut), walking around, a fancy bed - but that's all it was, a distraction. It can't be sped up (safely) and it only gets harder. I tried to be helpful and soothing, but at one point all we could do was wait for the next contraction to come, sitting in silence and thinking about nothing and lots of things at the same time. To put it a different way, the amount of time I had to read my Sports Illustrated went down as the intensity of the contractions went up. That's why it is called labor.
Jess is one tough cookie though, that's all I can say. All that pain, that I was helpless to do anything about, and then baby Hugh came out. Really amazing that this little guy who we've been waiting on for 9+ months finally was here. It was suddenly obvious that Hugh was a person in the world, I was a father, Jess was a mother, and we never did this before! At least the hard part is over, right?
Later.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Life Changes, Try and Keep Up
My wife of 4 years gave birth to our son, Hugh, on Saturday.
If any part of that statement caught you off guard, this blog definitely is for you. If you wished you heard some part of that from me directly, this blog is for you too. Wonder what I've been up to? Yeah, you'll want to read this.
Back in high school I use to write about events in my life through email, sending some 100 messages through my free Juno email account to the 12 people that would actually read it. I can't remember what happened back then, and more exciting things probably happened during a 12-hour layover at the airport, but people knew about it! Mundane things were happening, and they were mundane because everything else was already known about.
Things aren't like that anymore. I keep in touch with the people I care about like I'm riding a Shetland pony for the Pony Express. After moving away from so many good friends and family over the past few years, and then wishing I let them know about the important things (let alone the mundane), I need to try something else. Hopefully I can fill you in more here. Think of it as personal and the next time we meet, I won't catch you off guard.
Later.
If any part of that statement caught you off guard, this blog definitely is for you. If you wished you heard some part of that from me directly, this blog is for you too. Wonder what I've been up to? Yeah, you'll want to read this.
Back in high school I use to write about events in my life through email, sending some 100 messages through my free Juno email account to the 12 people that would actually read it. I can't remember what happened back then, and more exciting things probably happened during a 12-hour layover at the airport, but people knew about it! Mundane things were happening, and they were mundane because everything else was already known about.
Things aren't like that anymore. I keep in touch with the people I care about like I'm riding a Shetland pony for the Pony Express. After moving away from so many good friends and family over the past few years, and then wishing I let them know about the important things (let alone the mundane), I need to try something else. Hopefully I can fill you in more here. Think of it as personal and the next time we meet, I won't catch you off guard.
Later.
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