Dads Who Mock the World

Your Mother was a hamster... by Russ

2009-12-04T08:58:00.002-05:00

I go to basketball games with my Father. I have for as long as I can remember. Growing up, he had fifth row seats at Brennen Byrn Arena (later Continental Airlines Arena, later rubble) for Seton Hall games. (Richard Nixon was a regular there too, until he died that is, then he was a lot less regular.) Then I attended Clemson.

Now I go to Winthrop games. It is hardly big time basketball, the Big South (not sure what is so big about it, but that is what they dubbed themselves). There certainly is a drop in the caliber of the athlete. Heck, those Big East teams from the 80's would probably still hand Winthrop their bottoms. (The best thing I can say, is at least the Winthrop kids aren't wearing those tight shorts.)

First off. I am not a taunter. I'm just no good at it. I'm not particularly quick witted. Most of my retorts are a) from my stock of pre-thought comebacks, b) recycled comebacks that I've heard before, or c) somewhat appropriate movie quotes. That's it.

I'm the guy who will lay in bed after an argument and think of the perfect comeback. Then be pissed that I can't use it. That is not to say that I am witless, because I have at least half of one.

That brings us back to taunters. As mentioned above, I used to attend some big time basketball. ACC and Big East, I think they count as big time basketball. Taunting in the NY/NJ area is pretty much a past time (with makes all the more amusing that I can't do it). I've heard some guys that are really funny, and don't have to use slurs or 'colorful' language to do it. (I've also heard my fair share of those who need to use said language, they're not nearly as funny.)

Now we have knucklehead 1 and knucklehead 2 sitting behind us. Blissfully, they did not attend non-conference games, so it was reasonably peaceful. Now that the conference games are upon us, they return like the swallows to San Juan Capastrano. Oh happy day.

Mostly, they are just loud. Which is just made that much worse by the fact that only a few hundred people bother showing up for most games. (Some games, they wish they had a few hundred people.) Point being, not much ambient noise to absorb what is emanating from their pie holes.

Knucklehead 1 (kh1)'s first volley was directed at a Turkish player with a full beard. Hence dubbed 'Weird Beard'. At tip off, that was funny. Maybe a nod to Lord of the Rings' Treebeard. Although I doubt anything that might pass for literature ever crossed kn1's his path. So, benefit of the doubt, he gets a nod for creativity. With five minutes left in regulation, 'Weird Beard' has lost it's charm. That horse was dead a long time ago.

KH2 was riding the coach for not wearing a tie. All freaking game. Seriously? A tie is the best you could come up with? And that he had to wear a tie because he is a 'professional'. Really? I was a professional and I never wore a tie. My wife's office is full of registered architects with multiple degrees, none of them wear ties. (Alright, some might, but they are all upper management.)

One of the opponent's players, evidently, had a run in with the law at some point in his life. Team KH rode him all game for it. Again, once or twice fine. Forty minutes of it gets wearing.

That's it. Keep reading those lines over and over again for two hours. (You may take a 20 minute break in the middle for halftime.) Part of the art of the taunt is keeping it fresh. We had no fresh. We had stale. No, we had petrified.

This is where my Dad snapped. He heard one too many tie jabs (hey, Bobby Knight never wore a tie. While he didn't always act professionally, you could argue that he was a professional. What do suits and ties have to do with sports anyway?). He didn't go 'postal' snap, thankfully, but he did explain that no one other than the people in front of him can hear his witty comments.

My Dad is a former basketball coach. I used to play basketball. If you're focused on the game, all you hear is noise. That's it. But because the former coach at Winthrop told him that he was getting into the heads of the opposing coaches and players, he thinks it's working. (Winthrop is 2-4, and he wasn't there for the two wins, safe to say it's not working.)

Blissfully, we were able to watch the rest of regulation and overtime without KH1&2's witty repetitious repertoire.

First Crack in the Armor, by Russ

2009-12-03T08:08:00.002-05:00

Armor might not be the right word, but Mr. B got his first glimpse that his father may not be perfect. I can't tell if he was visibly shaken or just showing signs from not napping, but he was certainly upset.

Yesterday started off with him pretending to be a dog. Yes, with the leash. And that was fine. We built dog houses. Then he and Miss L would tear them down. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Then he decided that he wanted to watch Curious George. I told him it wasn't TV time yet (I need to save that card for dinner prep), and that we needed to keep playing. So rather than watch George, he decided that he would BE George.

One of his favorite episodes is the one where George makes a tree for Compass (the pigeon). Mr. B wanted me to make a tree for him. I tried to make some low trees (shrubbery?), but that wasn't good enough. He wanted a tall tree.

I told him that I didn't know how to make a tall tree that he could climb in. (Keep in mind, it was raining so hard that the animals were lining up two by two looking for an ark. So having him use his swing set as the 'tree' was right out.) That did not sit well. He tried every tactic he could muster.

He worked 'please' into any possible formation of the question (highly amusing).

He tried demonstrating what he wanted.

He cried. Oh boy, did he cry.

He threw himself onto the floor. Thank goodness we have carpeting.

He laid on the floor and flailed.

Nothing worked.

It made his sister cry. (It doesn't take much, she is sick. Again.)

Oh well. Now he knows that Daddy can't do everything. Looking back, I should have told him that it wasn't safe and that I wouldn't do it. That would have saved face and I would still be able to leap buildings in a single bound. (Little does he know that I would probably just trip and break my collar bone if I tried it.)

Leash? by Russ

2009-12-02T08:24:00.002-05:00

Well, I really wanted to title the post something different, but I don't want to attract too many pervs. You'll see fairly shortly why.

First off, I tried to give blood yesterday. I say tried because they wouldn't take it. It seems that since my daughter is sick (and I'm run down from not sleeping for multiple nights in a row), that they don't want to chance it. I wasn't really in the mood to be stuck anyway, but just going through the hassle of getting the kids dressed and out, just to guarantee that they (Mr. B for sure) will be agitated by seeing their mother and then having to leave her merely 90 minutes later, makes me wish they had taken the blood so I felt like I did something useful.

Oh well, back to the leash.

Mr. B's imagination has been in overdrive lately. He pretends to be racing, playing football, animals playing football, etc. Just a few short months ago, the extent of the imagination would be lining up his cars and having a race (with many many crashes).

Last week, he was a lion. As a Clemson alum, I would have preferred a tiger, but a big cat will have to do. (We can start the Liger transition soon.)

This meant that I spent (the Wife spent too, as she took last week off of work) a large amount of time constructing zoos (or the lion habitat in the zoo). Only to have the lion break out of the zoo and have to be captured and put back into his cage. Apparently, he wanted to be caught as he brought us Nala's leash to return him to captivity.

Needless to say, we didn't use Nala's leash. Firstly, any time Nala sees her leash, she goes batty expecting a walk. I don't need two excitable kids and a hyper dog. I just don't. Secondly, Nala's leash has a pinch collar on it. When she sees another dog, it is the only thing that will refocus her on something other than killing the other dog. (We tried all sorts of other leads, none of the worked.)

So we had to find something else to be his leash. The Wife found a red ribbon that Mr. B seemed to think was acceptable. Then he wanted us to tie it around his neck. Thankfully, he accepted around his wrist.

Thankfully, now he is a dolphin, so we don't have to restrain him. Maybe the restraint thing was just a phase and he won't be a submissive later in life.

Date Night! by Russ

2009-11-30T08:02:00.003-05:00

Yep, the missus and I got out for a night out on the town! I bought tickets to see the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, what feels like, months ago. The biggest question was, after where to eat, was do we take the McCory Line (light rail, named after our mayor who forced it though like a kidney stone. It's real name is the 'blue line', but the media calls it the 'McCory Line'.) We decided that taking the light rail from the very first stop to the very last stop at midnight might not be the best idea. (We might have been wrong.)

We started the day watching our beloved Tigers get slapped around by a bunch of chickens. (This was the low point, and it was quite low.) Thankfully, it got better. If only Georgia Tech was able to keep uga in check. At least my out-laws would have been less smug. Enough of the shitty football that was Saturday.

As you surmised, we decided to drive to the concert. I did my due diligence and found parking that was reasonably close to both the restaurant and the arena (and from the website, reasonably priced).

We got to the parking lot, $20 for parking (web said five, fracking web, fracking event pricing). On the positive side, what I thought was two blocks from both sites, was in fact half a block to the arena and block and a half to the restaurant. We decided to suck it up and just park.

On our way to the restaurant, there was more parking. Only $10. Frack Me! Almost at the restaurant, $6 parking. Just kick me in the fricken shins and get it over with already! What next, free parking at the restaurant? (Yes, btw, but I'm sure that it only covered dinner and not the show.)

Sigh.

So we get our table and I order a bourbon. Basil Hayden (they actually had it! no body seems to carry it.), but I think they actually served Bakers. While that may mean nothing to you, it has meaning to me. Bakers costs about a third more than Basil Hayden. So I got a good deal there.

Dinner was excellent. I had Tuna Oscar. It was a couple of very rare pieces of tuna served over a fried grit cake and topped with asparagus, King crab leg (about the size of a sausage), and hollandaise sauce. It was awesome. We had other stuff, but this was so far above everything else, that all the rest just isn't worth talking about. It was good, but this was great.

As to the concert.

Well, it's been a long time since I've been to a concert. LOOOOoooong time. Like well before kids. I think it was a Pink Floyd cover band. They sucked. But after seeing Pink Floyd live, only the most hard core PF cover bands would do. The 'singer' was marketed as an excellent screamer. I didn't realize that was a selling point. So that is what I remember about that.

This concert was awesome! I will say that anyone with photo-sensitive epilepsy should not attend. Strobes, flashing lights, lasers, pyrotechnics all pulsing and flaming and whatever lasers do. It was quite the spectacle.

The show started off telling a story, of sorts. The narrator (who I would listen to read the phone book) would tell snippets of the story between songs. The songs often had nothing to do with the story, but it was still a nice diversion.

About midway through the first part of the show, it got a bit slow. TSO broke out their slow stuff and I guess they were trying to make a point about homelessness as they had one of their members dress as a street person. But I couldn't understand the song, so it was lost on me. (I didn't understand as in his voice was not comprehensible.)

The second half of the show was dedicated to their new album/cd. (I think I just showed my age.) This is where you usually have the collective groan, but other than their most popular songs, I didn't know any of it. So this was no biggie to me.

This is where they started using what I had thought to be equipment storage as a secondary stage. This was about twenty feet in front of me. Pretty damn cool! So now we had pyrotechnics right in front of us. In addition to the band members running through the audience, the lead guitarist sat two rows behind me.

I could go on, but I would probably start to bore you. Needless to say, if TSO comes to a city near you, (70 shows in 60 days, I'm sure they will be) go see them. They also do a meet and greet after the show. Autographs, pictures with the band and backup singers/dancers, the works. Pretty cool. We didn't stay for it though. I would have gotten much more out of it than the wife would have (if you know what I mean...).

The way home. Yep, we got lost. Not sure how, but we ended up in the less than desirable section of Charlotte. In our driving, we were able to see where we wanted to be. Whether it was I-77 or I-277, they were on the horizon, but we could never find the on ramp. We ended up taking back roads home. This is what happens when you never leave your little neck of the woods. Of course, I can't tell you how many times I have been up town and back with no problems, but not that night.

In other news. Thanks to Jasper for giving me a vacation last week. It was much needed.

Also, you may have (or will soon) notice that I have turned the word verification back on. I hate to do it, but I'm getting spam again. Nothing horrible (I think) but spam nonetheless.

Happy Thanksgiving! by Jasper

2009-11-26T10:25:00.003-05:00

We hope that you have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

If you're across the pond or in parts unknown where the American holiday of gluttony is not celebrated, then have a terrific Thursday.

(I say "we" without consulting with Russ first. I'm sure he would not object to me offering well-wishes on his behalf. If he does object, then I hope he doesn't choke on a piece of turkey. He should be thankful I'm doing the work today.)

Since we're on a Muppets kick this week, please to be enjoying the following...

Pre-Thanksgiving Mouth Rinser, by Jasper

2009-11-25T09:13:00.008-05:00

Damn. That figures.

My bitchy girlfriend did all that complaining about my lack of involvement with our progeny, and now he complains that he can't get a word in edgewise?

He must a doozy of a tale to tell. What could it be?

Poo-poo? No. Flushed out.

Snot? It's not funny anymore.

Squirrels? Not likely. PETA called. They're after his nuts now.

Everday life? Nope. He needs to get one first.

Whatever the topic, it doesn't matter. Besides, it couldn't have been that great if he didn't take the time to write it.

Instead, he posts a video. How freakin' lazy is that?!

Two can play that game!

The above video probably best illustrates our relationship. I'm the bitter one.

And since Russ started this, I'm posting a second video! Ha! Enjoy!

Pre-Thanksgiving Palate Cleanser, by Russ

2009-11-25T08:16:00.004-05:00

Damn, who thought I would have to work to get a word in edgewise against Jasper!

While I do have plenty to say, I'm just going to leave you with this:

Laid Off, by Jasper

2009-11-24T07:42:00.006-05:00

Things are definitely different around the Mockingbard Manor.

The job was going well. Assignments were completed, deadlines were met and the customer was satisified.

Although I try to be flexible in order to meet the client's needs, I really prefer to hold firm in my position. In my experience, there is far less margin for error if I am in control.

When I set out to take care of business, I do it.

Despite the success of this venture, I am expendable. It was determined that my services were no longer needed. This business arrangement has expired.

I was made redundant. I am laid off. I am out of work.

Sigh. Business time has ended.

If you're not following, let me explain. Back in August, I went back to work. Based on research and a few calculations, it was determined that beginning the process in August would produce a result that would be ready in May.

Sydney and I made the most of business time and closed the deal in a very short period. It is unfortunate (for me) that the project was completed in just a few short weeks.

Apparently we are very efficient at what we do. This is really surprising since I have been wearing the Crown of Procrastination since I was twelve.

To put it plainly, Sydney is pregnant and due in mid-May.

I suppose I should be pleased with our success, but I was really hoping to draw it out a little longer. Procrastination would have come in handy for this job, especially since the whole procedure is a pleasure.

Obviously, due to Sydney's restructuring, transactions have halted. Excessive tiredness and recurring nausea/queasiness are the primary factors hindering operations.

Conditions are optimal. The ultrasound showed signs of life taking shape. The heartbeat is strong. In two weeks, the gender will be identified.

During these next six months, I have to take on other business opportunities such as transforming the office into Esmeralda's living quarters. There are at least 2010 things that I need to have completed before May.

Joy! At least I will be occupied during my unemployment.

Since I long for the glory days of business deals made everytime the lights go out, please enjoy a different version of Mockingbard Anthem...

Oh... wait... if memory serves me correctly, I'll be rehired during the third trimester. That's good news... Anywho, here's the song:

The Other Cold Shoulder, by Jasper

2009-11-23T07:29:00.009-05:00

It should be no surprise that it has been a little over a month since my last post. I simply haven't taken any time to write. In fact, I haven't ventured into the blog world in so long, that Google Reader has over 200 unread posts. "Our" blog is the only one I read anymore. My interest in blogging has definitely waned.

At some point last week, I called Russ. I don't remember the details, but I think the topic of conversation was either video games or another money making scheme.

In the midst of our conversation, Russ muttered, "Happy anniversary."

And then, our very pleasant talk got ugly.

Jasper: Huh? Anniversary?

Russ: Anniversary. Bloginversary. We started the blog this month.

Jasper: Holy cow! We did!

Russ: Yep. It's been two years.

Jasper: Wow! I can't believe that it has been that long. Of course, its not really that long for me, since I hardly write anymore.

Russ: True. You don't care about us anymore. You're always doing your own thing. I do everything. I keep the blog going. It's my blood, sweat and tears.

Jasper: I know, and I appreciate it.

Russ: I don't think you do. I do all the writing and all you do is make a cameo once every two weeks. You make some snide comment and then disappear again.

Jasper: Hey! Just settle down! I said I appreciate what you do. Why are you getting upset?

Russ: Upset? You think I'm upset? You've never seen ME upset! But I can give you upset!

Jasper: Chill out, man!

Russ: I'm not going to chill out. This blog was OUR idea. I expect a partnership. You're not pulling your weight. And, frankly, I am sick and tired of it.

Jasper: You know what my problem is. I just need some more time to find a solution.

Russ: Damn it! You've been saying that for a year! It hasn't gotten any better! Just when I think your making a REAL effort to be more committed, you crawl back under your rock. You leave ME to fill YOUR void. I can't count on you anymore.

Jasper: That's a little harsh. I don't crawl back under my rock. We talk almost everyday. Most days we kill zombies or play football together. I send you text messages. I maintain contact with you. In fact, I initiate it most of the time.

Russ: You have no clue, do you? This is not about US. This is about our BLOG. We agreed to start this blog. You even came up with the name. None of those other things matter. We have a blog that isn't being loved. I only have so much to give. My well is running dry. I NEED you to love the blog like I do. As partners, we have to nurture it together. If you expect this blog to keep going, then you have to do your part.

Jasper: (Silence)

Russ: I am certain, that by your lack of a witty or snotty retort, you realize I am correct.

Jasper: Sigh. Yes. You are correct.

Russ: So, what are you going to do about it?

Jasper: I will do the only thing I can to save this blog.

Russ: Good.

Jasper: I'm sorry.

Russ: I know. But don't do it for me. Do it for the blog.

Jasper: I will.

Russ: So... do you what to hear about Mr. B's latest poo-poo adventure at speech therapy? It includes a nice episode of green goo pouring from Miss L's nose! For an added bonus, I'll tell you about my favorite episode of a lame, recycled television series that was lame the first time around!

Jasper: Would I???? Don't spare any details!

And, so, it would seem that the family of Dads Who Mock the World is on the mend.

*****

To reflect on the anniversary of this blog, I would like to reference one of Russ's previous post (purple).

Lately I have been banging my head against my monitor wondering why nothing new or entertaining was pouring forth from my fingers. Last night, I was laying awake listening to the Wife snore (head colds are a bitch, and she has to travel today) and something occurred to me.

Nothing is pouring forth, because the well is running dry. Russ has been doing all the work. I admitted that. As for the snore, ha! Ever try a Breathe Right? It might help the snoring. I shouldn't laugh though. My wife hasn't been sleeping well either. I'll explain the reason another time.

Jasper and I started this blog in November. Is my muse giving me the cold shoulder because I missed my anniversary? Am I a bad blog Dad?

It wasn't Russ's muse that was missing in action. I have been ignoring the blog. His muse is overworked and needs a vacation. An anniversary is a cause for celebration. There is nothing to celebrate when the product of a partnership is not flourishing. I am the bad blog Father.

Short answer, yes

(See above.)

It seems back on November 5, 2007 we started this experiment in drivel. This astounds me. For two reasons really. First, I'm still writing (I can't speak for Jasper and how long he thought this might last). Admittedly, it has become a bit more difficult to find topics that aren't theme and variation. (If you only listen to one piece of music over and over again, no matter how much you like it, it does get a bit tiresome after a fashion. Unless you are a three year old, then all bets are off.)

The length of this experiment is astounding. I didn't think it would last more than a year. I knew I would probably lose interest, and I figured Russ would give up because he'd get tired of doing it all. I underestimated Russ.

Secondly, some of you have been around since the beginning. For that, I am grateful beyond words. I tell myself that I write for me, but that is bullshit. Sure, I write to vent, but mostly it is a way for me to connect with others without having to actually leave the house (nature is over-rated).

I agree with Russ on this one, except for nature being over-rated. I enjoy the outdoors! I also write because I have some grandiose notion that I will be able to harness my true writing talent one day and do something amazing with it. Ha!

So to all you old-timers (Blondefab, SciFi, MTM, Xbox and many others who have been here since the dirty beginning) and all you new kids on the block (not that awful 80's boy band) thanks for coming by. Please keep coming by, my ego needs it. For my part, I'll do my best to give you reasons to come back.

I second that. My ego probably needs it more than Russ's. I complain more about the lack of attention than him. Just read half of my posts.

For now, I have to grovel at the feet of my muse and beg forgiveness. It won't be pretty. How would your wife react if you forgot your anniversary for two weeks?

It is me that must beg for forgiveness. It has been my neglect that has caused Russ to feel as though he has upset his muse.

*****

Perhaps now I will find it within myself to write. Perhaps this moment of clarity will inspire me.

I'm feeling it... Yes... There it is... I have an idea for a post... Esmeralda... potty training... poo-poo...

And who thought that was a good idea..., by Russ

2009-11-18T09:18:00.003-05:00

As I've mentioned in the past, Mr. B goes to speech therapy. He has shown improvements, mostly in his confidence in his ability to speak. For this I am grateful, but this post is not about that.

This post is about the playground that the kids play on (both the students and my kids). They don't play on it at the same time. Mostly, because the school kids have a fenced in play area and they only venture to the ones we use when there is work being done on their usual play area.

The play set in question I have dubbed with two names. The Tooth Chipper 2000 (tm) and Mr. B's Education Fund (and maybe Daddy's retirement fund) (tm). For starters, there is no first step to get onto the platform. It is an 18 inch climb to get up. Once he is up, there really isn't much for him to do other than climb down from where he climbed up or from one of the two other 'exit points'.

Both are painted metal, read slippery. The first is a ladder of sorts. You know where you have alternating 'steps'. I used it once for leverage to help out Miss L and nearly cracked my skull. The kids are banned from using it.

The other is an arcing rails that are connected by a series of flat bottom "U"s. (I'm not sure that makes any sense. But short of a picture, it'll have to do.) Amazingly, the kids can navigate it. I'm usually clenched pretty tightly the whole time they are climbing it. Normally, I just dissuade them from being on it.

The big winner in the WTF where they thinking goes to this though. The balance beam, or the Ankle Breaker 2001 (tm). (Okay, three names.)

Ohhh, a balance beam. I can hear you saying. Well, this ain't no ordinary balance beam. No sir, or ma'am. This balance beam isn't straight, it is 'S' shaped.

Ohhh, an 'S' shaped balance beam, you say. Admittedly that isn't much to get excited over, and honestly I didn't. I didn't until it rotated. Yep, you walk along the 'S' shaped beam and as you approach the apex of the curve, it rotates down. So if you manage to not a) fall and/or b) break your ankle/wrist/neck, you can continue down the 'S' and have it rotate from under you again (only from a greater height this time).

Oh, I forgot, the cross section of the beam is a square, so you are walking on the corner for the second and third legs of the beam.

Normally, I try to get the kids out of there as fast as possible. It works better some days than others.

Cold Shoulder, by Russ

2009-11-17T07:58:00.003-05:00

Lately I have been banging my head against my monitor wondering why nothing new or entertaining was pouring forth from my fingers. Last night, I was laying awake listening to the Wife snore (head colds are a bitch, and she has to travel today) and something occurred to me.

Jasper and I started this blog in November. Is my muse giving me the cold shoulder because I missed my anniversary? Am I a bad blog Dad?

Short answer, yes.

It seems back on November 5, 2007 we started this experiment in drivel. This astounds me. For two reasons really. First, I'm still writing (I can't speak for Jasper and how long he thought this might last). Admittedly, it has become a bit more difficult to find topics that aren't theme and variation. (If you only listen to one piece of music over and over again, no matter how much you like it, it does get a bit tiresome after a fashion. Unless you are a three year old, then all bets are off.)

Secondly, some of you have been around since the beginning. For that, I am grateful beyond words. I tell myself that I write for me, but that is bullshit. Sure, I write to vent, but mostly it is a way for me to connect with others without having to actually leave the house (nature is over-rated).

So to all you old-timers (Blondefab, SciFi, MTM, Xbox and many others who have been here since the dirty beginning) and all you new kids on the block (not that awful 80's boy band) thanks for coming by. Please keep coming by, my ego needs it. For my part, I'll do my best to give you reasons to come back.

For now, I have to grovel at the feet of my muse and beg forgiveness. It won't be pretty. How would your wife react if you forgot your anniversary for two weeks?

Library, by Russ

2009-11-16T08:31:00.003-05:00

Mr. B doesn't seem to understand the concept of a library. Sure he gets the taking the book/video/etc home with us, but the returning of the item escapes him. For instance, he refused to accept that we returned the Winnie the Pooh DVD to get a Little Einsteins DVD (will somebody please shut that freaking Annie up! I'm tone deaf and I know that she is nasal and flat.)

I'm a little scared of what will happen when I return the Little Einsteins DVD today. I'm trying to decide whether to do the drive through return or go inside and let him pick another one out. On one hand, he will have a new movie to obsess over for another three days (the time that they are allowed to be checked out), on the other hand, I would have to come back to the library in three days (also a speech day) to return the video. Add to that, that he has more DVD's than he knows what to do with, and I'm inclined to just do the drive through.

Thanks for being my sounding board!

For the love of... by Russ

2009-11-12T09:41:00.002-05:00

After waking at 0600 yesterday and taking maybe an hour nap (just long enough for me to lose to Ohio State in NCAA 10 on the 360) Miss L refused to sleep last night. Utterly refuse.

She power napped from eight to midnight, the Wife and I sleeping from 10 to midnight. Then, she wouldn't sleep. First the Wife got up with her (her pain threshold being lower than mine) and rocked her until she slept. Then I got the boot. I rocked her until she fell asleep.

I got the boot again (0100 at this point) and told to feed her and/or give her some tylenol. (If I'm going to give her something to sleep, I'm going the booze route, not tylenol. A little for Daddy, a little for Miss L, a little more for Daddy.) So I take her downstairs and start plying her with food and drink. She pushes everything away and tries to get out of her highchair.

Sigh.

I pick her up and lay down on the couch. She snuggles in. She is out cold. I'm mostly out. The next thing I know Miss L is sitting on my chest and squeezing my nose (looking for a 'honk' that I usually give her when she squeezes my nose). She doesn't seem to appreciate that went I'm sleeping, I'm not in the mood to play. She just has a big goofy grin on her face. I can't stay mad.

She falls asleep on me again. This time I take her upstairs and put her back in bed. I don't know what time that was. I fall into bed and toss and turn until the wife is awoken by Miss L crying again at 0530. So I must have fallen asleep, else I would have fielded it.

I know you all will be hugely surprised that Miss L is crying very easily today! Coincidentally, my fuse is a bit short. Hopefully, they will nap better today. Gotta go, Miss L is, surprise, crying. (Sorry about the incoherence of today's post, but it is what it is.)

I Hungee, by Russ

2009-11-11T08:06:00.003-05:00

Translation from Mr. B to English, I'm hungry. This is usually accompanied by sucking in his belly and pushing it farther in with his hands. Obviously to demonstrate just how empty his tummy is.

Normally, this is when I would give him some food. I'm mean, I'm not daft. The boy is telling me his is hungry and therefore, assuming dinner is not minutes away, I'll get him a snack. (Or breakfast or lunch, whatever is appropriate.)

This 'I hungee' was preceded by an opening and closing of his door long after lights out. Like, long enough so that I was almost asleep. So I go to Mr. B's room and explain that the kitchen is closed and that it is time to sleep. We will get him some food first thing in the morning.

Mr. B is not happy with my answer, but seemed resigned to accept it. I tuck him back into bed and then tuck myself back into bed.

Now I had fallen asleep, when our bedroom is suddenly much brighter and I hear movement on the stairs (I am a very light sleeper). I groggily stagger over to the stairs (Nala wasn't flipping her wig, so I wasn't fearing for my life) to see Mr. B fully dressed in day clothes going down stairs.

Obviously Mr. B was not taking 'no' for an answer. I told him since he had eaten all of his dinner (we have been fighting about that recently) that I would make him a pb&j. (Nothing like rewarding undesired behavior.)

On the positive side, since he got himself fully dressed by himself. I know he can do it! (This is one of his stalling tactics, he feigns the inability to dress himself.)

What can I say, the boy is stubborn and I vacillate when I am tired.

Looking Back, by Russ

2009-11-10T08:13:00.002-05:00

Since I've been a SAHD I've had much less free time than I thought I would have. Not that I thought that I would be able sit around and read/write/surf the web/kill time with relative impunity while the child(ren) played quietly, but it is far more hands on than I was expecting.

This isn't a bad thing. I like being involved with my children. In a way, it is much more satisfying than solving process flow issues or writing financial reports that present data the way the check writer wants it displayed. For instance, teaching a three year old how to properly pronounce a word is a real accomplishment. As opposed to placating an adult acting like a three year old. At least one has an excuse for acting poorly.

Back to the topic at hand. My free time. I've taken up politics as a hobby of sorts. Mostly it started as a way to be better informed about current events, but it ended up morphing into local, state, and federal politics.

For some reason, my blood pressure didn't go down after I quit working for the man. I don't get it, all I do is play with my kids all day (and read political blogs). Something isn't jiving.

Then the last two weeks happen. As you may have noticed, I wasn't feeling well. The Wife sent me to the doctor at the height of my illness. They took my BP at the doctor's office.

Normal. (Normal for regular people that is.)

Huh?

I'm sick, it's supposed to be high when you are sick. The nurse confirmed this.

What has changed?

I've been too sick to read my political blogs! Sure, I'd bang my head on the keyboard for your benefit (and mine to a point), but other than scanning my reader, I didn't venture too far from it. Meaning, no politics.

Maybe I'm on to something. Leave off the politics and do my heart a favor. Besides, it's not like I could look to one party and say, "Damn, they are right!" Nope, the best I could do is, "You're both idiots, but these idiots are a little less idiotic." Not exactly a ringing endorsement.

2009-11-09T09:06:00.003-05:00

Man alive that was a good game. Just wish we had a kicker.

That is an amusing statement, back at the beginning of the year, I was thankful that we had a kicker because Clemson couldn't put the ball in the end zone. Same kicker, but now he has the golfer equivalent of the yips. No more coffee (or red bull, or monster, or whatever the kids are drinking today) before games.

All in all, I had a good time. It is always amusing to see how campus has changed since I was there. Hell the dorm I stayed in my first freshman year isn't even there anymore. Admittedly, it should have been torn down long before I ever got there. Nothing like rooms being separated by a single layer of particle board. (Someone has a girlfriend over, the whole floor knows about it.)

We didn't tour the whole campus, which considering my condition was a good thing. Not drunk or anything, but still recovering from the crud. On the positive side, I don't seem to have any setbacks from staying up too late.

Speaking of staying up too late... You know you are old when you look at your watch at half time and say, "Damn, I'm up past my bed time!"

Big Game, by Russ

2009-11-06T08:12:00.002-05:00

Clemson plays Florida State this weekend. Jasper and his wife are heading up to the game. Our mutual friend, Stalethebread, scored me a ticket. I'll be there. (Assuming I don't regress on my cold.)

One thing that I liked about Clemson is that they never felt the need to do a "black out" or "white out" (all the fans wear black or white depending on what is called for). I figured that was because Clemson's primary color is Orange. Ninety percent of the fans are wearing orange anyway. So why did some knucklehead in the sport department feel the need to call for a "solid orange" game?

Dumb.

I hate saying that about my alma mater, but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck...

Or, perhaps, I'm just a stick in the mud.

Either way, it will be good to see Jasper and Sidney again. It's been a year or so.

So look for us, we'll be the ones in orange...(except for Sidney, she pulls for that 'other' team)

Stadium Seating, by Russ

2009-11-05T07:46:00.002-05:00

I blame this on the Wife. I was never much for performances, or at least my parents haven't regaled me with stories of me putting on shows for them. The Wife, on the other hand, was putting on shows with her sister well after she was old enough to remember without the parental stories.

This brings us to Mr. B. No, the acting bug has not bitten him, but the sports bug has. The interesting thing is, playing isn't enough. He needs an audience. Spectators or fans if you will.

Mr. B will set up a laundry basket at one end of the foyer and kick soccer goals while standing at the other end. This is not nearly as impressive as it sounds, we're only talking about six feet tops.

Now, the only sporting event that Mr. B has ever been to were a couple of Winthrop basketball games. Not exactly big time hoops. The arena only holds 3000 or so people and most people show up dressed as seats. Really the only impression I thought the games made on Mr. B was the mascot scaring the daylights out of him.

But I was wrong. He also remembered the seating. While watching him play soccer, we have to sit on the stairs. Thus creating the stadium seating that he seems to have remembered.

No mascots though. I guess Nala will have to do.

Greased Pig, by Russ

2009-11-03T08:01:00.003-05:00

Changing back to standard time. Ugh, is all I have to say. I remember when it used to mean an extra hour of sleep; maybe forgetting to change the clock and getting out of church. Now, it just means that the kids get up an hour 'earlier'.

Not much I can add to that, so I will go on to other ideas.

Over the weekend Mr. B decided that his bum was 'itchy'. (Whenever he is bored or doesn't want to do something, some part of his body is 'itchy'.) So he did what anyone of three year old rationality would do. He stripped down and slathered himself zinc oxide ointment.

As a result of having a naked three year old greased up in his room, the room is now well greased up too. The hard surfaces aren't too hard to clean, the soft surfaces are another story. I guess I'm happy that he didn't get any on the curtains. I can't say the same for his chair, or the floor, or his bed, or the bedrails, or...

So, how do you get zinc oxide out of the above mentioned items? I figured I would have to wait until it is all dry and then scrape it up.

Remember, V starts tonight!

Friday! by Russ

2009-10-30T09:12:00.003-04:00

Mr. B is such a good big brother to his little sister! Other than the normal playing with her on a daily basis and coming to get me after every bump she receives, he looks out for her too.

As I intimated throughout the week, I have not been feeling well. Well, in the mornings he gets out his and her juice cups from the refrigerator while they play and I try to figure out which leg goes into which arm hole. (It's really been that kind of week.)

It really impressed me about his self sufficiency, on a very basic level. He still can't reach his cereal, but he can get the fruit on the counter. The cereal will be off limits because if I put it where he can get to it, so can Nala. So he will just have to figure out how to peel a banana in the mean time.

Other than that, The Wife comes home today. Yeah! I'm going to go take my headache and read, "Go, dogs, go" for the 80 bazillionth time this week.

This needs to stop, by Russ

2009-10-29T09:44:00.003-04:00

Took the meds last night and they worked just fine, thank you very much!

Now I'm just sick and tired of being sick and tired. What is not helping the tired portion is the alarm going off at midnight. It seems as though one, or both, of my children learned how to turn on an alarm clock. Specifically the one in the living room. (We didn't have a wall clock for that room, but did have a spare alarm clock. As this is now our 'guest room' it works.)

Under the best of circumstances I am not a sound sleeper, under the worst, I'm awake anyway. It doesn't help that the clock is directly below my bedroom and the sound just travels straight up.

I guess I need to add a new stop on my bedtime routine. Make sure all alarms, save the home alarm, are off.

Blech Pt2, by Russ

2009-10-28T09:17:00.002-04:00

Okay, so i don't have the pig flu. I do have some, as my doctor put it, creeping crud. I told him that I couldn't sleep and he got a glint in his eye. He hands me a prescription and tells me that this will knock me out.

Evidently, it is so good that he can't even call it in to the pharmacy, I need to take a special piece of paper to get the cough syrup. I get back to the pharmacy to pick up the goods and it costs $70 bucks! This is the type of shit that will be outlawed by Obama if his healthcare passes. (Go take the blue cough syrup silly man.)

Well, it did knock me out, from 10 until 1 I was in the land of nod. Apparently, I under medicated. And didn't shake the bottle first. So I'm still reserving judgment on this miracle nectar until I actually follow directions.

Well, I'm just staring, so I'll sign off now.

Blech, by Russ

2009-10-26T08:16:00.003-04:00

This is just me crying like a bitch. I just needed to get it out, feel free to skip over me today.

Friday sucked. Nala jumped the fence and I spent over an hour yelling her name throughout the neighborhood. It wouldn't have been that bad, but blondefab planted seeds (quiet unintentionally) of a poor ending. Thankfully, a) I remembered her training and started blowing a whistle and b) she remembered her training and came running. So that worked out, save my sore throat.

Saturday, was bipolar. We were supposed to be visiting friends, but the kids were running fevers. Oh and my throat still hurt. The Clemson-Miami game did nothing to help that. At least the good guys won!

Sunday bitch-slapped me with a chest and head cold. Trying to hork up a lung does nothing to help the throat, btw.

Lets see what else I can bitch about...

The microwave door handle broke off. The toaster oven caught fire (that was fun! and a post on it's own). And the wine refrigerator is warming the wine, rather than cooling it.

Oh, and the furnace is being replaced today. For the month of October, expenses GREATLY exceed income.

Belly aching is complete, go about your day. I'm sorry you read this.

Frakin Brilliant! by Russ

2009-10-23T09:48:00.001-04:00

I do hope this makes its way to Charlotte! Unfortunately, we don't have any Piggly Wiggly's here...

http://www.charlotteobserver.com/408/story/1015172.html

Jack Links, by Russ

2009-10-23T08:32:00.003-04:00

Messing with Sasquatch. Messing with Mr. B is closer. Mr. B had discovered monsters. We covered the Big Bad Wolf at an earlier time, and I managed to calm him of that (yeah brick foundation and chimney).

Mr. B doesn't quite get the fact that the hikers are getting what is coming to them. All he sees is a monster attacking a person. Being the empathetic little boy that he is, he bothered by the people getting hurt by the monster. Then he is scared that he might be attacked by the monster.

Halloween will be fun this year...

This is but one reason I pause TV at the beginning of a program and then fast forward through all the commercials. (Thank you Dish DVR!) That, and I hate watching commercials in general.

I really thought that I had more here. Don't you hate it when you have a good rant in your head, then when you go to write it out it just fizzles out? I think that has been happening to me more and more lately. I'll be laying in bed organizing the next day's post and it will look great. Then I actually get around to writing it and blargh. Nothing. Or very little anyway.

At least this one is funny: