Brock's Best

We were at the store a few weeks back and decided at the last minute we needed a cookie fix. We grabbed the first thing we saw only to have Fred point out to us when we got home that he wanted some of Uncle Brock's cookies. If he hadn't of mentioned it I would have never made the connection, but sure enough it appears that my little bro has a side business he's not telling folks about. Here's a closer look at Brock and "Bud":

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Remember those essays we used to have to write the first week of every school year? I didn't mind them so much, after all it's not like the teacher even knew who you were before you stepped foot in her class. Who's she to say that there's no way you could've took a hot air balloon expidition to the South Pole? Anyways that's what today's post is all about.

After I decided to not Live Life Like A Porpoise, I managed to get a ton of stuff done both fun and from the Honey Do List. The first of each week was spent remodeling Fred's room and our master bedroom (pics to follow this week). The fumes hit Lucy and I hard; after I painted Fred's room I got a sinus infection, Lucy got hers after I painted our's. We spent the 4th at Granny Beck's where we had our usual Chinese Thanksgiving. This year I even managed to learn how to make Curry Chicken and Sweet/Sour Pork (not the chicken nugget kind, but the real deal). Plus we had some recession fireworks (not much flash cause we got no cash) that shocked Fred to the point that you would've thought we were standing on top of the Empire State Building watching them explode over the Brooklyn Bridge.

By the end of last week with only four days left I called it quits and enjoyed the rest of my time. A couple fishing trips, an afternoon spent watching Dave Matthews Live In Concert, a surprise 30th B-Day party for Lucy, a little book reading time, plus I pulled the old bike out of the shed so I could keep up with Fred as he pedals up and down the street (he's past the point where I can keep up on foot).

Overall I learned a couple important lessons: 1# Even if I had 2 months off I'd still never get everything done and 2# I never get sick of hanging out with my family and that even includes the GiGi (just don't tell her I said that). Enjoy some pics of from what turned out to be the two best consecutive weeks of my life:

Life Without Porpoise

As many of you have no doubt heard, the company I work for has decided to shutdown this week and next. What this means is that unfortunately I'm midway through an unexpected two week vacation, and that believe it or not I started out having a horrible time coming to grips with. First of all lest I come on as some arrogant snob who doesn't know just how well he has it, please understand that I am extremely grateful for everything I have and that I can't imagine how much harder others who have it far worse are handling things. Still the shutdown has definitely been a wake up call. The first day I was a total wreck. I literally walked right into a door, spent the day babbling like an idiot, and generally just felt out of place in the world. I know myself enough to realize if I had been laid off and Monday had been my first day out of work, I'd of been up at the crack of dawn, resume in hand, and hitting the bricks looking for more work. That's the rub though, I have a job....they just don't need me there for 10 more days.

Immediately I found myself wondering what does a work-aholic do when there's no work to be had? Whatever the answer may be, I was sure the way it wouldn't turn out is with me sitting around like a fat whale catching up on Day Of Our Lives and eliminating an entire bag of Oreos.

I'm proud to say that going into the 4th day of my isolation, I've managed to stay even busier than I likely would have been had I gone into the office everyday. I've set the alarm for my normal 6:00 A.M wake-up every morning. Monday I cleaned out Fred's room, ran errands, grabbed a quick bite, and by 8:00 that night had transformed the once nursery into a Big Boy room. Tuesday I jumped up ran a couple more errands, hit the driving range, put the finishing touches on Fred's room, and got to spend a great afternoon with Lucy. Wednesday I was up at the Dr's office (sinus infection), took care of a couple more errands, cut grass, and managed to be done in time for Fred to get home from school. Next week I plan on painting our bedroom Monday/Tuesday and then getting some R&R (playing a little golf, getting some fishing in).

Basically what I've learned is that though I may be a work-aholic, I'm not limited by where I work. It's got nothing to do with who I work for or what my career is, it's about how I'm no longer that guy that enjoys laying on his hump all day watching the world pass me buy. As an 8 year resident of various cube-farms I've often wondered what outsiders did with their days...and now I know they stay active, they get things done, and they never stop working towards their goals which is exactly what I myself attempt to accomplish during my typical 8-5. A life with purpose means you don't live life like a porpoise and for my own sake I hope that's something I never turn into again.

Who am I? Who I Am.

I am a 2 ton wrestling opponent ready for battle at any given moment
I am a waiter eager to accept my customers latest order
I am a television programmer strategically plotting what the viewing audience will enjoy most
I am a plumber who is called at all hours to figure out what was flushed or why it won't
I am a lover of every purple dinosaur, every imaginary friend, every rabbit brother and sister, every talking dog, penguin, moose, and whatever, every super hero duck, hamster, and turtle, every Spanish explorer, animal rescuer, and maintenance man.
I am a pool boy
I am a Sunday school teacher
I am a tryer, a doer, and sometimes a failure.
I am a reader of rhymes and singer of verse.
I am a chauffeur, taxi cab driver, and a couple of times I've rushed through town as if in an ambulance.
I am a race track designer
I am a Nascar racer who always comes in second place
I am a memory keeper.
I am a provider, a giver, a receiver, and lucky guy
I am a married far abover
I am a I will pull your pants down right here in front of everyone and spank that bottomer
I am a surgeon adept at placing a band aide at just the right angle so as to stop the pain
I am a beautician who can't get promoted past the hair washing station
I am a computer tech
I am a teacher of words, learner of slang, and discourager of terms
I am a craftsman who can perform miracles with elmers glue, a pair of scissors, and a paper sack
I am a go to your roomer
I am a too busy to write a post today blogger
I am a carry of all thing precious, wiggly, and upset
I am a painter of rooms, colorer of pages, and drawer of doodles
I am a do as I sayer not as I doer
I am a dentist always on the look out for easier ways to keep teeth in better shape
I am a finder of things to do while waiting for the doctor to call our name
I am a kisser of booboos, spanker of bottoms, and giver of high fives
I am a getter of way more than I ever deserver
I am a no matter how big the fight we can work it outer
I am a struggler, a survivor, and warrior
I am a architect of towers that never last
I am a husband, a father, a son, a lover, a best friend, a brother, a believer, and hopefully a teller to all those who I am thankful for-er.

From Playboy To Parenting

Don't ask me why, but lately I've been thinking a lot about magazines. We seem to have them everywhere and refuse to let them go no matter if they've been read or not. You would think that with all the television we watch, all the time spent on the Internet, all the moments during the day listening to talk radio, we'd be some of the most well informed people on this planet. Yet one of my most favorite moments in every week has to be coming home on Friday and seeing who's on the cover of Entertainment Weekly.

As I mentioned magazines have been on my mind. After thinking over all the different types we've subscribed to over the years, I was surprised how you can literally trace my growth as a person based on what found it's way into my mailbox. Lucy and I had our first date on 12/27/97. At the time I lived in a fraternity house and Playboy may as well have been the local currency. It was everywhere. Stacks and stacks piled up in closets, bedrooms, covering coffee tables. It was openly discussed and critiqued on a daily basis.

After Lucy and I moved in together I didn't bring Playboy with me. I was however one of the many that signed up for Maxim the first year it came out. Actually if you look at my credit card statement from that time I signed up for more than just one harmless magazine. There was People, Details, GQ, Men's Health, Premier, Stuff...I can't remember if I had a crush on a magazine sales lady or what, but they just kept offering and I kept subscribing.

As the years went by I found I didn't care how to pick up women in a bar using various forms of grunts and hand gestures even though Maxim assured me would work....and I couldn't afford to dress like anyone in GQ....or buy any Stuff other than what I could get at a yard sale...and I never exercised...so I put away my crush for the magazine lady and stopped getting magazines all together. Until that is Entertainment Weekly offered to fill my Pop Culture needs on a weekly basis for the low low price of 10 cents an issue.

I was baptized close to 5-6 years ago and went through an intellectual phase in which I felt I needed to read as much as possible about every political, social, medical, statistical movement there was....this lead to Harper's. A monthly dose of left wing propaganda mixed with some poetry and a touch of "exclusive" fiction from today's most deep thinking writers. I soon learned that my desire for more knowledge couldn't over come my distaste for pages upon pages of words without pictures.

I wrote for a pet website for a while so friends and family got the chance to laugh at me while I scoured the pages of Cat Fancy looking for juicy fodder. It seemed like with every new assignment came another niche mag. Golf Digest. Log Cabin Monthly. Of course the moment Fred was conceived we signed up for Parenting. Since we had a child who demanded to eat everyday we thought we'd better learn to make something other than spaghetti hence Family Circle. US Weekly gives us the sort of Garbage-Can-Gossip that EW thinks we are too mature for. Plus Fred even gets a couple in hopes that they will someday keep him quiet during church. We even get one devoted completely to foods made by Kraft. All I can figure is at some point we really must have loved mac'n cheese.

Looking back you might think that things have gone down hill after I let Maxim go, but honestly they have several things in common. They are both full of glossy images that I'll never get to touch in real life, they both cause my jaw to drop and a little bit of saliva to run out of the corner of my mouth, and they both are full of plastic things that are never as good as they look in print. Honestly the way I see it Family Circle is better because A) I got a better chance of experiencing some of the things described in the articles and B)Lucy never complains when I oogle over chicken tetrazzini .

Welcome To Walmart! Now With Less Clothing!

Somebody asked about Fred recently and if he was as hard to handle as their child. The answer to this is of course "He's way worse than your kid", because honestly who doesn't think their child is the biggest handful ever to be brought into this world. The question did spark a string of recent memories that I feel proves Fred (though he may seem out of control at times) is everything an All American Child should be.

Like last week during vacation bible school, right there in middle of the puppet show he decided to stand up and show the crowd how well he can do flips. He did 3 before I was able to stop him.

The next night he ran as hard as he could, caring less of where he was going, and managed to look up just in time to see the support beam hit him dead center between the eyes. It's been a week and he's still got two blackeyes.

Monday night he slept in his Spiderman costume. At 3:30 that morning he woke us up because he'd had an accident and gotten it all wet. It took us half an hour to convince him to change clothes.

One thing we are learning is that spanking may be useful at times, but in the end (no pun intended) it really doesn't have any long lasting effect. I think it's because during the normal course of the day he somehow manages to hurt his own self at least two dozen times, so us adding a couple of licks turns out to be nothing compared to what he's already been inflicted on his poor knees and elbows. To get to Fred you have to out think him. Pull out some logic and blind him. Dazzle him with your common sense and wisdom.....and if that doesn't work distract him with a distant prize that can only be obtained by listening to Mommy and Daddy. And even then he can't help but be who he is......the kid that out of the blue decided yesterday that it would be fun to chant "Let's get naked!!" over and over while we stood in line at Wal-mart.

Previews Of Times Gone By

When you have your first child there quickly comes many a moment when you find yourself awake at 2:00 A.M. staring at the ceiling and wondering "What was I thinking?" Sure you love the crying thing in the next room with all your heart, but after 3 hours of screaming without any indication as to what is wrong it's easy to see why even the strongest among us would start questioning their ability to make rationale decisions.

Thankfully somewhere along the way God through his infinite wisdom manages to cloud your mind. Those moments spent pulling out your hair as you stare at your child in disbelief just moments after he emptied the entire contents of the bathtub (water and all) onto your newly tiled floor, fade from your memory and somehow become funny stories you can't wait to tell to all of your friends. Maybe it's some form of selective memory brought on by the constant shock and awe that comes from having a child. It could be that the insanity that seems to swirl around your child finally manages to consume you as well.

I like to think that God knows that the only way people would ever decide to have more than one child and thus continue the furthering of the species would be to simply edit their memories so that when they do look back they only see the good parts. Kinda like movie previews in reverse. Instead of that time your child screamed in the middle of church that somebody wasn't praying right....you see how excited they get when they learn they get to go to Sunday school. You forget that night you were scared to death because he had a fever of 105 and wouldn't quit throwing up....and remember the first time he learned to potty by himself. You only see him lying their sleeping peacefully and not the hours of threatening to make his life miserable if he didn't take a nap.

Now I'm not sitting here saying that we are actively trying to have another child...honestly that would be way too personal for even these pages....what I am saying is that lately my mind isn't what it used to be. When I look back at those first few months when we had Fred I don't remember the fear of not knowing what I was getting into. I don't see the pain brought on from having to spank him for the first time. I don't remember how much I disliked having to share my bed or change dirty diapers or waking up at all hours of the night to give him a bottle....all I see are moments I'd like to live through again....all I see are previews.