Four Square No. 266

Prick

2008-07-22T16:16:00.002-04:00

21 pricks, to be precise.

In desperate attempts to figure out why El Presidente is the puking machine that he is, he saw an allergist to determine if allergies in any way play a roll.

21 pricks on the back determining if he is allergic to 20 different things (the 21st prick is the "control" prick). The lovely wife and I had to hold him down while the nurse did the test.

Turns out he is not allergic to dogs, so Lucy and Ethel get to stay. Nor is he allergic to dust, so we get to stay in Four Square No. 266.

He is allergic to egg whites. Odd. We are exploring if they are used in any of his foods or medications. Otherwise, the egg white allergy is just a red herring.

By the way, the test wasn't as bad as I was expecting it to be, in all honesty.

Though, I'm sure El Presidente would beg to differ.

My drag queen name would be "Grace"

2008-07-21T15:26:00.003-04:00

I'm not dead yet. But apparently I'm trying really, REALLY hard.

I didn't get West Nile Virus.

Nor did I slam my nipple in a car door.

I did fall down my stairs at home. That was a bitch.

This is my second time doing this. The first time was almost 6 years ago. In that fall, I went down more stairs at a faster speed and cut my foot open. 15 stitches.

This time, slower speed... fewer steps... no stitches. But my left foot and my right but cheek hurt like hell.

Ow! My knees!

2008-07-16T14:59:00.002-04:00

What I can only blame on increasing age and clumsiness, I tripped while attempting to enter a city bus this morning on my way to work. My big clown feet caught the bottom of the bus steps, sending me to the bus floor, banging the hell out of my knees, and leaving my khakis dirty.

Seven hours later, my left knee feels fine. But my right knee is really sore, bruised, and swelling. I'm limping around like a peg legged pirate. I'm pathetic.

I'm really a piece of work. Sick, injured, sick, injured. Tomorrow, I'm going to contract West Nile. Friday, I'm scheduled to get my left nipple caught in a car door. Stay tuned.

Ow! My guts!

2008-07-15T16:16:00.003-04:00

It is tough getting old.

I base this on the fact that I keep getting balder, fatter, and uglier.

I also base it on the fact that my insides hurt. Don't ask me which ones specifically, because I don't know for certain. It is a wide ranging dull pain that covers the areas that house my stomach, kidneys, intestine, fun bits, and bowels.

No, I'm not dying.

No, I don't think it is serious (or I hope not).

However, it is a pain, both literally and figuratively.

But at least I don't have an artificial leg...

I was at a volunteer fire department breakfast fundraiser over the weekend (which may be the source of my painful guts). An old farmer man with a cane walks in and ask another old farmer man without a cane, "How are you doing?" The old farmer man without a cane replied back to the old farmer with a cane, "Better than you! I don't have an artificial leg!"

So I've got that working for me.

El Presidente's nemesis

2008-07-08T15:38:00.005-04:00

El Presidente lives up to his name. Wherever we go, he rules. Last night, we watched the Indianapolis Indians beat the Columbus Clippers, and he is sitting on the lovely wife's lap next to a nice grandmotherly woman who there with about 6 of her own grandchildren. She was keeping score of the game on her scorecard.

Until El Presidente comes along with his sweet talkin' ways. In no time, this complete stranger has handed over her scorecard and pencil to him. He wields too much power!

He did, however, meet his biggest challenge to date. During the game, he would watch the Indians mascot Rowdie run around on the field and was intrigued by his antics. We went for a walk around the concourse when Rowdie was passing by. He was moving very quickly, obviously because he was supposed to be somewhere for some thing. You know, mascot stuff.

Anyway, he's moving so fast that his hat flies off. Knowing that Rowdie might need help and seeing the opportunity for El Presidente to get up close to big dawg, I picked it up and put it back on for him. With the bill facing backwards, of course. Rowdie shakes my hand in thanks and then puts his hand up to give El Presidente a high five.

You may have heard what came next from wherever you were, because it stopped everybody on the concourse in their tracks. I think the ump even stopped the game to see what the commotion was about.

He let out a scream that felt like it lasted 10 minutes...

BWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

It freaked the shit out of him! If his diaper wasn't wet before, it was now!

From a distance, Rowdie was fine. He was El Presidente's pal. Up close, different story. Rowdie put his hands up in the air like "I didn't do anything, it wasn't my fault", turned around, and left very quickly.

I'm sure the size of that critter was just too much for him to comprehend.

Of course, he was also freaked out by his new Tickle-Me-Elmo that he got for his birthday. Maybe it's a red, furry monster thing.

Then again, the little sucker even stands itself up when he falls down. That freaks me out!

Memo to my supervisor, re: August 8 through 24

2008-07-07T13:19:00.002-04:00

I writing to inform you that I will likely be tardy during a two week period in August. You see, the Olympics are coming and I'll probably be watching a lot of television during that time. You'll notice that I refrained from participating in the NCAA office pool back in March, so I would like to use that time I banked from not checking the scores on ESPN.com and not updating my bracket.

My doctor will be forwarding a note about my "Gold Medal Fever" to you. My condition was discovered over the weekend as I couldn't stop watching the Track and Field, Swimming, and Gymnastics trials. What is worse, I've discovered that I can set Tivo up to record everything related to the Olympics. I know that Tivo allows me to record and watch stuff later. But I have to emphasize the "later" part of that statement, as I was up until 1am watching the US Women's Gymnastics trials. And since the Olympics will be on NBC, USA, MSNBC, CNBC, and Oxygen (plus Universal HD where available), I'll probably be up all night every night getting caught up on the action from Beijing.

I appreciate your understanding with the condition. I'm sure it is covered by FMLA. Or the ADA. And I will do my best to get ahead in my work prior to August 8th. Thankfully, the Olympics come around only every other year, so after August, I should be good until the Vancouver winter games in 2010.

Thank you.

Two years

2008-07-05T00:48:00.002-04:00

Today, El Presidente turns two years old. He amazes and amuses me on a daily basis. Happy birthday, little boy. Your momma and I can't imagine life without you...

Firecrackers

2008-07-04T23:55:00.001-04:00

The fourth of July is always a day of concern at Four Square No. 266. As I have mentioned in the past, my dog Lucy hates fireworks. It drives her nuts. She spends the weeks leading up to and following in a state of panic. She fears the outside. She fears the dark. She fears my white trash neighbors that feel the need to make Irvington feel like Sadr City and Fallujah (hat tips to Jim and Kelly for that).

The past two years, we have elected to stay home and tend to our stressed out pup. Though, to be honest, our reasoning was 49% to keep her calm and 51% to prevent damage to our home. Everywhere you look in Four Square No. 266 there are marks of 4th's past. Destroyed curtains. Chewed up baseboards. Scratched up doors. And a metal door on a dog cage that looks like crinkled up aluminum foil.

Not wanting to be prisoners in our home, we decided to take a proactive approach again. Previously, we attempted to use Lilly's Reconcile, which is basically Prozac aimed at dogs with separation anxiety. Unfortunately, it made her even more psychotic than before. For a drug for separation anxiety, it oddly made her more anxious. It was not good for her. Or us. We dropped that real quick.

This year, we went with alprazolam, which is the generic name for Xanax. And I'm happy to say that despite the war-zone like conditions in our 'hood, we returned to a home that was in the same condition as we left it.

That's not to say that it was the perfect drug. Everything has its side effects. This is what alprazolam has, according to wikipedia...

-Drowsiness... she did sleep a lot more during the day.

-Decreased inhibitions, no fear of danger (increased risk taking behavior)... I'll say! Several of El Presidente's books where destroyed in the process. After I would discipline her about chewing up a book, I'd turn around, and she will have taken another book off of his book shelf! That bitch!

-Depressed mood with thoughts of suicide or self harm... kinda related to the previous side affect, as she was asking for the lovely wife to kill her.

-Hallucinations, agitation, and hostility... let's say that she hasn't been putting up with Ethel's shit this week.

-Hyperactivity... like a fart in a hot skillet. When she's not sleeping, she is bugging the crap out of us. Even as I write this, she keeps coming up to me, whimpering to do something...ANYTHING! PLEASE!

-Feeling dizziness, light headed, or fainting... okay, I'm assuming that she is just sleeping all the time.

-Urinating less than usual or not at all... most certainly not the case! She's been pissing like a race horse.

-Flu like symptoms... her nose has been warm, but I haven't see her going for the Tylenol.

-Speech problems... well, she's a dog, so that was a pre-existing condition

-Complete memory loss and concentration problems... getting her attention has been more difficult than normal. So has El Presidente's. We've been having to speak more loudly and stomp to get their attention recently. I think they are teaming up against us.

-Changes in appetite... you mean aside from the increased desire to eat books?

-Blurred vision, unsteadiness and clumsiness... well, she was never Ginger Rogers. There is a reason she is called Lucy.

-Constipation, diarrhea, nausea, and vomiting... thank God no!

-Decreased sex drive... I try not to pry into her personal life.

-Dry mouth... she has been drinking a lot more. I mean water, not alcohol. That's just me. And El Presidente.

-Nervousness, restlessness, sleeplessness, and sweating... kinda goes with hyperactivity, doesn't it? She has been waking up early in the mornings recently.

-Rapid heartbeat... seriously, this hasn't been an issue. In fact, I've noticed that she hasn't been breathing heavy during fireworks as in the past, so this I was actually paying attention to.

-Skin inflammation... like a monk setting itself on fire?

-Muscle twitching, tremor, and seizure... not that I have noticed, but she maybe during her fidgeting and I've not noticed.

In all seriousness, these side effects are most likely related to humans taking the pills. But they seem to carry over pretty well into the canine world. My conclusion, we'll probably use these again next 4th of July as, aside from the destruction of a few books, this has been the least costly 4th of July in recent memory. But we'll try to keep in mind that she will bug the shit out of us during its use.

Life's a beach and other cheesy postcard headlines

2008-07-01T13:04:00.003-04:00

Last week, the clan at Four Square No. 266 packed up our beach gear and headed to Hilton Head Island in South Carolina. We were joined in our travels by my parents and my sister and her family.

We rented a 3 bedroom villa in the Palmetto Dunes plantation (that what they call the developments down there...plantations). And while having three different families under one roof can be challenging (by that I mean that I'm a pain in the ass to live with...just ask the lovely wife), I think overall everyone had a good time.

Hilton Head Island is a very clean and family-friendly place. It's not like Panama City or Myrtle Beach, where they have tons of cheap motels and tourist traps. They have golf, tennis, and the beach. There are a couple of mini-golf courses, plenty of shopping, and a couple of areas that have kid friendly music or festivals. On Tuesdays at Shelter Cove, they have Harbourfest that includes shopping, activities, music, and fireworks.

The biggest surprise to me was how well El Presidente got along with his cousins LaLa and Ack. My niece LaLa is 13 and my nephew Ack is 10. I knew that they liked El Presidente, but I didn't realize how much they would interact and entertain. They seemed to have a ball. Everytime his cousins would go into their bedroom to watch TV, he would have to follow.

Another treat was getting to see my niece and nephew's first time at the ocean. We arrived late on Saturday evening, but we went to the beach anyway. They both jumped into the water in their clothes under the moonlit sky.

This is El Presidente's second trip to the ocean. Last year we went to Panama City Beach. It wasn't a successful beach trip for him because he wasn't big into water then. A lot changes in one year. He enjoyed playing in the sand, sitting at the edge of the ocean, and even getting into the ocean with me and riding the waves!

For El Presidente, the lovely wife, and I, our days at the beach were usually only a couple of hours long. Normally, he would have his breakfast, we would hit the beach, then come home for lunch and naptime. It worked out great and while we have the tanlines to prove we went to the beach, we don't have the sunburns.

After the beach, we would go out for dinner. Our meals, in order were at:
-Giuseppi's Pizza (very good)
-Old Oyster Factory (very, very good)
-Wild Wings Cafe (very good)
-Alexander's (very good)
-Grouper and Company (...okay)
-Spanky's in Savannah (good)
-La Hacienda (very good)

I also found my way to Kingfisher's for their happy hour dozen oysters. Not as good as Oceanaire or McCormick and Schmick's in Indy, but a hell of a lot cheaper and still tasty with crackers and cocktail sauce.

Plenty of alcohol was consumed on our vacation (though not as much as on my parents trip to the Smoky Mountains with my brother and some family friends...the stories are legendary!).

We took a day trip to Savannah for a ghost carriage tour. This is one of the most haunted cities in America (according to Duke University, or so I've been told). Savannah is one of my favorite cities. It has history, culture, and a wild side. It might be the no. 1 place I would want to move to if I were to leave Indianapolis.

The biggest challenge for me on this trip is figuring out how to handle El Presidente during the 11 hour drive. We drove through the night so that he would sleep. Which is fine, because I down about 6 frappacino's and I'm good to go. But we arrived on the island at 11am and couldn't get into the condo until 4pm. So we had no place to keep the boy cool, feed him, or more importantly, give him his nap.

We went to the mall with its indoor playground, and that was okay for a while. Then we took him to a movie, hoping he would nap. But "Get Smart!" was too intriguing for him.

The overnight drive works fine for the trip home, as we don't have to wait until 4pm to get into Four Square No. 266. But future trips, I'll probably spend the money to get a hotel room and just break the drive up into two trips.

When will I get to try that out? It's hard to say. I'd love to go to a beach again next year. And I know that El Presidente would like it too.

A boy and his dogs

2008-06-20T15:00:00.002-04:00

Until the arrival of El Presidente, Lucy and Ethel were our children. When we had a human child, the canine kids were bumped down in the pecking order in our house. For those reasons, the dogs rarely give outward signs of affection.

They tend to ignore him. When he tries to get their attention, they leave the room. When he's in their way, they tend to bump him out of their way. In short, they have little respect for the little human that leap frogged them in seniority at Four Square No. 266.

But we've never feared retaliation. In fact, when we aren't looking, they might cozy up to him. You really see their loyalty to him when new people approach him. Or how they will follow his therapists around when they are working with El Presidente. Even Ethel, who I normally have to pull along on our walks, was pulling me to keep up with El Presidente during a recent outdoor therapy session.

They don't want to admit it, but they love that little boy. And he returns the love as well. Sure, he tries to push them out of his way sometimes (he is 23 pounds; they are 3 to 4 times his size; guess who wins). He'll get mad at them when they bump him down (on accident, I'm sure). When they bark, he'll tell them to "shush!" And on occasion, he'll shack his finger at them and say "no, no, no!"

But when they hopped in my father-in-law's van for a week of on-the-farm fun, El Presidente expressed confusion.

"Dogs?"

When the van pulled out of the driveway, he expressed great concern.

"DOGS?!?"

And when they disappeared around the corner, he screamed in horror, demanding their return.

"DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGS!!!"

The next ten minutes he spent grasping on to me, head on my shoulder, crying, with sobs intermittently interrupted with pathetic pleas.

"Dogs..."

Time

2008-06-18T15:44:00.004-04:00

I have a project at work that has been this lingering pain for the past year. I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel as the tenants will be moving in at the end of July. So I'm really looking forward to moving on to the next project, because (in case you haven't noticed) I haven't had much time to update my blogs.

It hasn't been a lack of content. There have been a ton of Pulitzer Prize-winning postings that I have assembled in my head, but never had the time to put it down on pen and paper...or in ones and zeroes, as it were. And many of them have been lost now. Gone forever. All because I'm operating with less than optimal memory. I'm a Commodore 64 in an iMac world.

This blog was suppose to help me document things that I would likely forget. But without the time to write, it doesn't really do me any good. But I'll try to give a synopsis of what I wanted to write.

Two weeks ago, the lovely wife and I celebrated our 31st birthdays. While that's not OLD, I've been feeling old recently. When I was a kid, time just seemed to drag by. When I was 12, I thought it would be forever before I would get my license. When I turned 18, I thought it would be forever before I could (legally) drink. And when I started college, I thought it would be forever before I would graduate. In retrospect, the first 31 years went by in the blink of an eye.

Will the next 31 years (God willing) go by this fast? El Presidente turns two next month. When did he get to be so big??? It was just yesterday that we were giving birth to this boy, and now he's turning two. Children make you feel old, I tell ya.

This past Friday marked the 10 year anniversary of the lovely wife and I knowing each other. A decade later, and she still surprises me. In another decade and beyond, I'm sure she will still be confounding me.

Surreal

2008-06-09T16:01:00.003-04:00

It is really weird for me to see footage of my hometown underwater...

Look, they're evacuating the hospital I was born in!

Hey, the hotel where our wedding reception was held, its surrounded by water!

I've been to that lake! And the levee is breaking!

It's a scary thing. My parents didn't get flooded out of their home, but the water was creeping towards their front door.

My sister and her family were evacuated out of their home in the middle of the night and had to sleep at the township fire station. Thankfully, the water didn't get in.

My sister's in-laws, however, weren't so lucking. Some had to be removed by boat.

One uncle had a indoor swimming pool in his basement.

I have a cousin whose home was covered to the tip of his roof and then shifted off its foundation by the rushing waters.

Another cousin has lost a lot of inventory from his business.

What is most amazing - call it fate, call it coincidence, but it's damn lucky - is the story of another of my uncles. Two years ago, Johnson County redrew the flood maps and his house for the first time ever was listed as in a flood plain and he was told to get insurance. Well, it had never flooded up to his house, so he was trying to fight it. But he finally gave up the fight and got the insurance. Good thing, because he had 4 inches of water in his house, and he was at the high point of the neighborhood.

Makes you think twice about not getting flood insurance.

Hissin' lilies

2008-06-03T13:39:00.003-04:00

On our morning walk today, we went past a lily bed that hissed at the dogs. If I were Alice, and this were Wonderland, I'd speculate that the lilies wanted to make sure the dogs didn't piss on it. But in reality, a cat was hiding in the large group of lilies and didn't care for how close Lucy and Ethel were getting. I'm guessing the cat was trying to stay cool.

Things are starting to heat up and humidity is rising. Thank goodness for air conditioning! Our old A/C unit broke down a few weeks back. Turns out the compressor was fried. Saturday a HVAC contact set me up with a new HVAC system, replacing the A/C as well as the 1960-something furnace. So our winter heating bills should go down this year too. Fingers-crossed.

At work, HVAC units are giving me trouble as well. A project has been giving me fits. So much that I haven't been able to blog as much as I like to. Well, the project went from bad to worse when a heating coil inside one of seven air handlers sprung a leak over the weekend, flooding the entire building. Lots of drywall and ceiling damage. Not good. Probably adds another month to this project, plus the headache of recouping costs from whomever is at fault.

Back at home, the A/C may be working, but the dishwasher (which the lovely wife named "Pedro", because aren't all dishwashers Mexican?) is not. It is seven years old and we bought a cheap unit at the time, but seriously, shouldn't these things last longer?

I can't wait for vacation...

23 at 23

2008-05-29T15:18:00.003-04:00

And now for some happy news...

For the first since four months of age, El Presidente is on the chart for weight-for-age percentiles! At just shy of 23 months old he is right at 23 pounds. According to the CDC, that puts him between the 3rd and 5th percentiles.

He's moving on up...on the eastside...

The not-so-happy ending

2008-05-22T12:25:00.003-04:00

It pains me to say this, but El Presidente won't become a big brother this year. At a doctor's appointment earlier this week, we found out that we had miscarried. Two medical professionals using three different methods tried five different times to find a heartbeat of yet-to-be-born child, but could not find one. Based on measurements, it appeared to have happened about two weeks ago.

This is our second miscarriage. The first occurred before El Presidente and the lovely wife took it much harder at that point than I did. She was very much ready to have a baby, after two years of trying, where I was not fully aware of my feelings about being a father. To my surprise, I did feel cheated out of being a dad, and that made me angry more than sad. I also found it easier to get over because it was a blighted ovum - basically, a pregnancy happened, but a baby never formed.

Also, having been really excited about finally being pregnant, we had told a lot of people about it. Less than a week later, we had to tell them all that we had miscarried, and that was the most difficult part.

When we were pregnant for El Presidente, we waited until we got past the first trimester, because we didn't want to get people's hopes up. Actually, I was being superstitious and didn't want to jinx it. The first trimester went by, and we started telling family and friends.

This latest pregnancy wasn't exactly planned, but we weren't exactly preventing it from happening. When I found out that the lovely wife was knocked up, I was shocked, but it turned into excitement. Having El Presidente has been the greatest experience ever, and knowing that we might have a repeat of hospital visits didn't discourage me from wanting another child. In fact, having one just over 2 years after our first made me feel optimistic about having even more children.

The lovely wife had a different perspective, and rightfully so. Yes, she wanted more children, and yes, she was happy about having a new baby now, but she was also very nervous and scared about having to care for a 2 and 1/2 year old with special needs and a newborn with unknown needs. Being the principal care giver, she new the challenge before her. She would handle it, but she had anxieties.

It took a couple of weeks before the new baby showed itself on the ultrasound, but once we heard the heartbeat, we both felt relief that we were in the clear. To hear the heartbeat was a comfort that the pregnancy took and was alive and growing and real.

Despite fears of jinxing it, despite our superstitions, we told everybody the good news. And why not? Everybody loves good news.

But this week came as a complete shock. We never thought that we would have lost this baby.

The lovely wife was upset, but I was the one who was really sad. I was the one who was really ready for a child this time around. She has spent more time consoling me than I have had to do for her. I really became attached to the new child and the idea of being the father of CHILDREN. I was looking forward to saying, "These are my kids". El Presidente has brought so much meaning into our lives, how could we not want more?

So it has been sad. I know deep down, whether it be divine will or natural selection, that there was a reason why this pregnancy, this child, would not come to full term. And I'm going to have a hard time letting go of this.

I heard the heartbeat. I saw the pictures. I gave it a nickname. It was real. And now it is gone. And I'm not sure what to do with all of that, other than go through the cycle of grieving.

Whenever we decide we are ready to try again, I wonder if we will end up being more cautious than before? Will we be able to contain our excitement and keep quite, not out of superstitious fear, but out of not wanting to put others through this again?

The ultrasound picture from April 24th still hangs on my office wall. At some point, I'm going to have to take it down. But what do I do with it? How do I get past something that was real but never became reality? How exactly do I mourn for a baby I was never able to hold, but loved nonetheless?

Tattoo

2008-05-16T15:28:00.003-04:00

Victoria and Andrew gave El Presidente the gift of tattoos. Specifically, Finding Nemo temporary tattoos. Yesterday, I came home with him sporting one on his hand. The rest of the evening, instead of giving me high five, he insisted on me giving Nemo high five. Which seemed a lot like I was smacking his hand. But he seemed to enjoy it anyway.

Green

2008-05-15T13:11:00.005-04:00

The flower beds at Four Square No. 266 are overrun with hostas and lilies. As you may well know, hostas and lilies are the rabbits of the flora kingdom: the reproduce in the blink of an eye. They are great plants for lazy gardeners like myself that doesn't like to do a lot of work, but still wants things to look good.

The lovely wife once told me we needed some color in our flowerbeds. I said, "Green is a color!" I love the color green. It is so lush, so healthy, so alive. It makes me think of rainforests.

While I have convinced the lovely wife that green counts as a color, we have added tulips, gladiolas, black eyed susans, cone plants, and mums to our beds to add OTHER colors. But mostly, the lilies and the hostas, with their big green leafs, rule the joint.

I mentioned last year that they needed thinned out, but wasn't going to get to it. This year, they really need to be thinned out. I'll probably get to it this year.

I think hostas and old neighborhoods go hand in hand. Old neighborhoods are filled with old trees that provide huge canopies. I love the feel of walking around Irvington in the shade with the growing green leaves swaying above my head. The challenge of growing things in the shade becomes an issue. But hostas seem to fit the bill perfectly. You'll find them around trees and all across shady yards all over Irvington.

Thanks to the spring rains, the hostas, trees, lawns, and all other things are particularly green. My neighbors have made me look bad this week, as they mowed their lawns and I have not yet found the opportunity. The grass has been growing like gangbusters, and it is looking really shaggy. I'm hoping that things will be dry enough soon to mow it.

Despite having to mow my green lawn every other day, these rainy spring days are wonderful to have. And they are even more enjoyable when you have another Irvington amenity and tradition: a big front porch with a swing.

About yesterday...

2008-05-08T14:35:00.005-04:00

It's my own fault for getting into politics on my blog. I normally stayed clear of it knowing what it does to others and myself. I thought I'd voice my thoughts in a way that prevents the sort of discourse that occurs on political blogs. On previous posts, someone would post why they didn't like Hillary, and whatever. That's fine.

But yesterday, I let things get to me. I wasn't prepared to receive anti-Hillary comments on a post where I compared her to a dead horse. So, I lashed out.

My self control was turned off and, boom, I'm calling people sexist dopes. Not what I was expecting from myself. So I decided to close the comments on that posting. I didn't want to loose further control of comments. But more so, I did not want to loose control of myself.

So I went back and deleted my comments. Because they were ugly. Because they were written out of anger. Because I shouldn't have said anything at all.

That's right, I re-wrote history. It's one of the perks that Hillary supporters receive!

Win, Place, Show

2008-05-07T10:15:00.014-04:00

I never watched horse racing as a child. I had heard of the Kentucky Derby, but did not know much about. A few years back, I went to my first horse race and was transformed. Now, I really enjoy watching the Derby and hope to someday soon attend.

Heading into the race on Saturday, there were two horses receiving a lot of media attention. Big Brown (partly owned by UPS) was the early and continued favorite, having won the Florida Derby just weeks before. He had 5-2 odds, but much of the talk focused on his draw into the 20th post, which hasn't seen a winner for about 80 years. Basically, he started in the most outside post and had to quickly make his way inside for a shorter run or go really fast to make up the difference. And he did. It was a spectacular finish.

Another horse receiving a lot of attention was Eight Belles. She was a filly (female) in the 5th post. Her odds were 12-1, but she was seen as a fast horse who could hold her own with the big boys. Only 39 fillies have raced in the Kentucky Derby. Only three had one the Derby, with 1988's Running Colors being the most recent winner. I liked the prospect; I liked the odds. Had I been at an OTB, I'd have put a bet on her to show and would have won money. Only around $6, but still...

So to see the two horses that I had most interest in finishing 1 and 2 in the race was exciting to watch. But then the unthinkable happens. The cameras turn to Eight Belles, who had collapsed around the first turn of the track after the race. And then there were the huge ambulances. And then a couple of minutes later, the track vet was on TV saying that Eight Belles had broken both of her front ankles and was immediately euthanized. What a heart breaking 5 minutes. I was shocked, almost to the point of tears.

Fast forward to a different sort of horse race: the Indiana presidential primary on Tuesday. Polling places are not much different from OTB's. You come in, you place your bets, and you watch the results, hoping to win. I placed my bet on Hillary (who also was a big fan of Eight Belles). I felt that she might, just might, find the mojo to come from behind and win the nomination.

In all honesty, she needed to be within single digits behind Barack in North Carolina and a decisive win in Indiana to really make a good argument for being the party's candidate. When you consider that out of 28 million Democrats voting nationwide, all that separates her and Barack is 500,000, it is definitely something worth fighting for.

Unfortunately, the race is getting away from her. Barack won big in North Carolina. And he kept it really close in Indiana. Superdelegates are jumping off the Hillary bandwagon with increasing frequency. I still contend that Hillary would be better for America and give a better fight against McCain, but there is no way that it will happen. May 6th may not have be the finish line, but it might as well be. She is far too many lengths behind to catch up.

But instead of calling it quits, she is pushing on, hoping beyond hope for a miracle. Because you never know what will happen to the leader.

In the meantime, she is loaning her campaign over $6 million of her own money. It says a lot of people like her and Woody Myers that they are willing to pour so much of their own money into their campaign. But its a risky investment.

She has every right to continue, and that is what she wants to do. But on the line: her own money, her reputation, her legacy. She still has a long career ahead of her as a Senator and a leader in the party. I just hope that she stops before she destroys herself.

Fish and seahorses

2008-04-29T16:08:00.002-04:00

When we went to Disney World in 2006, my parents bought El Presidente a plush doll of Nemo. He has latched onto this as his favorite plush doll. It may have something to do with all the fish that he sees during trips to Riley. I don't know. But he calls it "Melmo". Which is also what he calls Elmo from Sesame Street. Apparently, they share a name. It's cute, though.
The lovely wife finds it touching that El Presidente likes Nemo so much, especially when you consider that Nemo is a special needs kid. The story is about a parent who is so over protective and a kid who wants to prove that he can do what ever other kid can do. It's not hard to see why "Finding Nemo" finds a special place in our heart.

I have to admit that me writing that my son is a "special needs kid" is a big break through. I've seen many kids with bigger challenges that those of El Presidente, so I never thought that we should call him a special needs kid because it would be an insult to those that were in dire straits. Or I was just fooling myself, in denial about the whole thing. Probably a bit of both.

Dealing with his needs has been no big deal. The lovely wife and I haven't known any different during the past 21 months. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that it hasn't been without its challenges. Which has caused me to think, "I don't know if we could handle doing this again."

When we first married almost 8 years ago, we thought that we wanted to have a big group of kids. Four kids would have been great. But we wanted time for ourselves. So we waited about five years before we started. Then we found that we were having problems conceiving.

In 2005, we found out we were pregnant. We were so excited that we told everyone right away. Unfortunately, the pregnancy didn't take. Between the two years of trying and a miscarriage, we changed our priorities and thought, "if we could just have one, we'd be happy." Later that year, we were pregnant again. And we waited until the first trimester was over before sharing the news.

Our son was born in 2006, and...well, you know how that went. We are so grateful to have El Presidente. But after a year, we looked at each other and said, "What now?"

We have our son. We are certainly pleased. But our dreams of a bigger family... what happens to that now? With El Presidente requiring extra attention, especially with feeding, having another kid was just out of the question. The amount of work it would take to care for a feeding tube kid and a newborn seemed overwhelming, especially for the lovely wife who has traded in her sanity to take care of our son. But knowing the pregnancy challenges that we would face with every year we aged... simply put, the prospect of having another child, let alone a big family, just doesn't seem likely at all. And that is sad.

Or it was...

Please welcome the Seahorse to Four Square No. 266.

It came as quite a surprise to us last month when we found out. After spending so much time questioning if we would ever feel ready and/or able to try to have another child, an answer was given: We have to be!

We are only seven weeks in. This is the infancy of pregnancy. Before, the superstitious side of me would have said, "Don't post this yet; you'll jinx the whole thing!" To hell with that! This is a moment to be celebrated!

Yes, we worry about how things will turn out, but that's life. We never know how anything will turn out.

El Presidente was due in late July but was born on July 5th, the same day as one of my brothers. He had to come early to time that out. The Seahorse is due on December 12th. Another of my brothers was born on December 18th. So maybe the Seahorse will take his or her time and come late.

However it happens, we are happily and optimistically looking forward to the day that El Presidente becomes a big brother.

Third

2008-04-28T15:09:00.003-04:00

Some people believe that things come in three's. My mother is one of those. If you have two bad things happen, she will tell you a third is sure to come. I spoke of our A/C issue on Friday and nails and broken glass on Saturday. Late Sunday night came #3.

My father-in-law apparently opted for a ride on his four wheel ATV Sunday night. And apparently threw himself off of it or rolled it. And apparently made his way home and called my sister-in-law.

I say apparently because he doesn't remember anything about Sunday evening. He doesn't know how he got home. He doesn't recall what happened. And he was surprised that the ATV was back in his garage.

He spent the night at the hospital with a concussion and three broken ribs. His next scheduled day of work is Wednesday. I'm betting he won't be in.

Since my mother-in-law passed away 3 years ago, the lovely wife and her sister have discussed what is to be done with their father. He's a young guy; he's under 60. He can take care of himself. That doesn't keep his daughters from worrying, though. And this latest incident certainly won't help matters.

But it has occurred to me that the lovely wife and I are heading into that phase of life where you begin to look after the needs of your parents. My parents, being good people, have always cared for their parents, as well as siblings at times. They provided a good example to me of how you are suppose to behave when it comes to your elders.

Thankfully, they still have each other, so they can annoy the piss out of each other still instead of me. I'm hoping that will last for years and years!

But I wonder, as time goes on, what will be more stressful: raising your children or caring for your parents?

So last night was a rough one...

2008-04-26T13:07:00.002-04:00

The warm spring weather led to even warmer temperatures inside of Four Square No. 266. The lovely wife, being a delicate flower, couldn't stand the heat any longer. She finally had to turn on the A/C yesterday. It seemed to be working fine until about 10pm last night. Lights started flickering. Noises started coming from the side yard. I run outside to find smoke or steam coming from our condensing unit as well as a anti-freeze sort of smell.

Our A/C unit has been the source of annual repairs. Normally, the fan motor seizes up. This was not the case last night. In fact, after I started it back up, I couldn't find anything to explain it. I talked to my neighbors to see if they had any electrical problems last night, but that was not the case. So I'm speculating that the A/C unit was at fault and caused the electrical drains, versus an electrical problem causing the A/C to screw up.

I'm guessing that we'll be using that economic stimulation money to stimulate our HVAC system.

This morning, we received a phone call from a neighbor around the corner. She had been walking her dog past our house and found roofing nails and shattered glass in our driveway. The nails seem to be a monthly occurrence. In fact, I posted about it exactly two months ago. I believe this to be the fourth time this year to have this occur. It is the first time that a shattered beer bottle went along with it. I elected to file a police report. Between the nails, the A/C, and the disappearance of our trash cans in January, so far 2008 has been a strange year at Four Square No. 266.

Marching to the beat of his own drums

2008-04-23T10:54:00.002-04:00

El Presidente recently received a hand-me-down drum set from his cousin. They currently reside in the garage. He's doing auditions to form his own garage band.

Right now, he's really into free form/avant-garde jazz drumming.

He went three weeks without puking, which led to some amazing growth. He's around 22 pounds right now and his charted growth is curving upward now.

His no puke record came to an end when allergies followed by a cold created congestion and lots of snot. But he's clearing up and the past two days were really good for him.

The terrible twos are beginning to come in. El Presidente has no patience for people or things that do not fit in with what he wants. Not his fault; its genetic.

Fifteen days

2008-04-21T13:11:00.002-04:00

Forty days ago, I wrote that I was supporting Hillary Clinton for President, Jill Long Thompson for Governor, and David Orentlicher for Congress.

With fifteen days left, I still think JLT would make an infinitely better Governor than Jim Schellinger.

David O, the goofy looking white guy with the funny sounding name, still has my support, though I have warmed some to Woody Myers. Just not enough to get my support yet.

And I'm officially on the fence for the presidential contest. What put me there? Barack Obama said this: "You go into these small towns in Pennsylvania and, like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing’s replaced them. And it’s not surprising then [that local residents] get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren’t like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations." Which is as true a statement as I have ever heard from a politician.

But it wasn't his statement that put me in the fence; it was Hillary's response. She said that he is attacking people of faith, which isn't true. In fact, she sounded like a NRA-supporting Republican. Despite the fact that I think she is better prepared and qualified to be president, I think she is losing it. And that concerns me.

There was an earthquake?

2008-04-18T10:56:00.004-04:00

The lovely wife and I have been watching Eli Stone, and they recently had a storyline where the Eli saw the future and saw a catastrophic earthquake (the show is based in San Fran, so really, you could predict an earthquake every morning and be 50% accurate).

This got us talking last week about being in middle school when Iben Browning predicted that there would be an earthquake on a certain day in the New Madrid seismic zone. Everybody was freaking out. All the schools had earthquake drills. Insurance companies were selling earthquake insurance like mad. It was like the Y2K crisis, only 10 years earlier.

On the predicted day, something like 20% of the students in my school stayed home because of parents and their fears. And wouldn't you know it: no earthquake (the USGS has a 248 page publication about the whole incident that you can get).

I just find it odd that we were talking about earthquakes and the New Madrid fault just last week, and today we have an earthquake.

So let me talk about me winning the lottery next week...

It was news to me that we had an earthquake. I didn't know until I heard it on the radio this morning. Last night, I was dead to the world. El Presidente has been suffering from seasonal allergies. He has been sneezing and snotty and coughing all night long. Wednesday night, I spent the better part of my night up with him, trying to keep him comfortable.

Last night was the lovely wife's turn, so I crashed hard. If an atom bomb had been dropped in my backyard, I wouldn't have awoken. I'd probably would be dead, actually, but if I could magically survive an atom bomb in my backyard, I would have slept through it last night.

If an atom bomb goes off in my backyard next week, I'll be so pissed. Mostly because that came true, but not the lottery thing.