Fears Of The Father

It was one of the highest slides he’d ever seen complete with metal steps and a little dip in the middle. I did the typical help him up the steps thing except this time instead of waiting for me to sit down behind him, he just took off. ZIIIPPPPP down he went so fast all I could do was watch from above and pray. The slide was a foot of the ground. Just high enough for his momentum to swing his feet under and send him face first into the gravel. As I shot down to scoop him up and wipe away the tears I was met with a scream joy and the request to have another turn.

I’ve thought about this over and over. As parents we have taken on the task of teaching our children how to make it through this world safely. “We do not touch the stove!! It’s hot! No sir! Outlets are not toys! We hold hands in the parking lot.” These are just things that will eventually lead to our child having common sense. “The stove is hot. It will burn me. I shouldn’t touch it. There are cars going everywhere. I better stick next to Mommy and Daddy.” More and more lately though I’m discovering that there’s a fine line between teaching children the value of making smart choices and passing down our own fears.

I hate heights. Not sure why. Always have. Always will. I never climb anything higher than I am and Lucy always has to hold the ladder while I clean the gutters. I don’t climb trees, I don’t jump out of swings, I don’t sit on top of the monkey bars. Does this mean Fred should be taught that these things aren’t fun? Of course not. Lucy hates bugs. Big bugs, little bugs, bed bugs. Common sense teaches Fred to not scoop up a bug and eat it. Our fears teach him to scream every time he sees one. This is just an example, but you get my point.

If he’s afraid to put his hand on the eye of the stove, I as a parent have done a good job. If he’s 15 and afraid to cook cause he might make something that tastes bad, then I’ve passed on my lack of confidence.

On the next trip up the slide I stayed close, but I didn’t climb the steps. As he sat at the top of the slope and looked around the playground, I waved and made sure that he knew no matter what happened I’d be at the bottom to catch his fall. Trying hard to resist the urge, I didn’t rush up to help him down or slow his pace. Instead I told him he could do it and I was right there waiting on him. “Don’t be scared little guy. I’ll be right here the whole time”

“ZZZZIIIPPPPPP One more time Daddy?!?!”

Recovery And Relief

Today I want to give a special thank you to all those that kept my family in their prayers over the past couple of days. Both parents made it through surgery with flying colors and by this time tomorrow both will be back home. I’m a worry wart and as morbid as it may sound the moment I heard they were both going in on back to back days, I started considering the odds that I might lose one or both. Even going as far as saying to Lucy Monday afternoon (upon hearing my mom made it through ok)  that I at least would have one parent left come Wednesday morning.

Thankfully it’s official, I am still 100% with parent! It will take a few weeks for them to get back to normal (as normal as they can get considering who we are talking about), but they should be back up and driving me nuts any day now. Thank God and thank you for your prayers.

In Surgery We Shall Meet Again

My parents have been divorced for something like 25 years and to say they have nothing to do with each other would be the biggest understatement since someone suggest Britney Spears may not be the best role model in the world. Oddly enough though on Monday and Tuesday of this week they will be coming together under the knife (literally) as they both go in for surgery.

Mom (Nani) will be traveling to B-ham, Al. to patch a tare along the walls of her stomach (or something like that. Anytime a woman begins to talk about her insides I start a mental Top 10 list of the best golf shots I’ve ever made). This will be her second trip in a year and apparently the first patch disappeared quicker than my like of anything David Blaine.

Some 2,000 odd miles away in Jacksonville, Fl. my dad will be getting ready for his neck surgery scheduled to take place the next day. I mentioned this a few weeks back and though they are not 100% positive, they seem to think it has more to do with him launching himself off a 30 foot balcony at age 13 while living in Thailand than anything hereditary (of course technically a strong case could be made that since we are practically the same person and though I have never been to Thailand the fact that I once decided I could jump out of the back of pick-up truck moving at 45mph and simply land on my feet proves that I someday too will be going under the knife for neck pain).

As a result of the surgery neither grandparent will be able to pick Fred up for several weeks, of course in the case of my dad it will be more a question of distance than his inability to pick up a 40lb bag of giggling potatoes. While neither procedure is considered “life threatening” complications are possible so I ask that you please keep them both in your prayers as well as myself since I will more than likely spend most of the weekend worrying (props to Lucy for offering to book me on a flight to Jacksonville).

Building The Perfect Child

I know it’s not possible to do, but as parents our main concern is turning this crying, crawling, crapping, cute thing into a contributing member of society. If when they are our age they are living happy normal lives, well than we’ve succeeded. If they turn out like Brit-Par-Lo-sy….then maybe something more could have been done. This being our second year as parents Lucy and I are learning just as much if not more than Fred with every passing day.

For example we no longer say “Let’s go get some chicken nuggets” or “Nani/Gigi are coming over.” This is a huge no-no! You see in Fred’s mind all he hears is “some chicken nuggets” and “Nani/Gigi”. He doesn’t understand the words “later on” or “on our way back” or “let’s go” To a two year-old there is only now and if you are offering something then you must be prepared to deliver it the moment the words fall from your lips otherwise welcome to tantrum-ville. At this point Lucy and I never discuss what we are planning for the day, we just surprise him and save him from any possible disappointment.

Another thing we are learning about Fred is that he’s quickly setting himself up to be different from other kids we know. Not different in a negative way, but different as in when parents say things like “My kid sleeps in his bed all night” or “My kid loves ice cream” or “My kids stays up to midnight every night” we say “Fred likes to come to our bed in the middle of the night” and “Fred hates sweets and would much rather eat corn than ice cream” and “Fred passes out where ever he’s at by 8:30”

We’ve noticed several other differences between Fred and other kids:

1. He loves going to school and never cries when we drop him off. As a matter of fact the promise of school is what gets him in and out of the bathtub every morning
2. He hates to leave school. He literally started throwing rocks at Lucy cause she had the nerve to try and take him home last week. (And yes he was severally beaten on the spot)
3. Fred likes to watch golf more than he likes Sesame Street. And by watching golf I don’t mean “I like to watch it while he plays in front of the TV” like somebody insinuated the other day. On the occasional Sunday afternoon he can often be seen curled up next to me watching Tiger take on the back nine.
4. Fred loves to take out the trash. In fact if he had his way that would be how he would clean house. Just throw everything in the garbage can.
5. He hates the number 1. Refuses to say it and always starts with the number two.
6. He purposely calls people the wrong name just get a laugh out of them. Na na naaa Gigi! Hahahahahaha. Da Da Da Mommy!! Hahahahaha
7. Body Slamming somebody is more fun than anything else this world has to offer. Forget the Wonder Pets and Backyardigans, if you’re laying down near my son everything other than the thought of jumping on top of you like a human trampoline just fades into the background.

It seems that here lately everyday ends with Lucy and I taking a mental inventory of how the day went in regards to Fred and what if anything we could have done better. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper” “He did really good washing his hands” “Need to spend more time Potty Training” “Time-Out seems to be working”

It’s these types of conversations that I think allow us to keep up with our progress as we try to mold a happy child. Notice I didn’t say perfect. Perfect is impossible and those who try only create monsters. No, for Lucy and I all we want for Fred is one word HAPPINESS.

I Taught I Taw A Putty Tat

With Fred fully implanted into the Terrible Two’s we seem to be constantly having to reel him in. As a parent there’s a fine line between letting your child have fun and letting him do whatever he wants. There are days Lucy and I go to bed feeling guilty for having said “NO! STOP THAT!” all day and other times when we feel we haven’t said it enough.

While we do spank, we tend to save that for extreme cases like throwing rocks at your mom cause you don’t want to leave daycare or boxing your dad’s ears when he stops you from playing in a crowded church parking lot. Basically you can’t beat the kid all day so what you end up with are several trips to Time-Out.

In the Blockhead household Time-Out involves going into the front room (originally it was to be the family room, but for some reason we refuse to sit in there) and sitting in an elephant shaped chair facing the door. This generally works for all minor violations. By now he knows the way so all we have to say is “Go to Time-Out” and he takes off head hanging in shame. Though there are several toys in the room, they weren’t a problem until this past weekend.

“Fred we do not throw our juice cups across the room!! Time-Out”

Head hung and sobbing he takes off followed by myself just to make sure he makes it there ok.

“5 minutes! No crying. Then if you can behave we will play some more”

Two minutes in we start to hear voices coming from the other room. At first we think it’s the neighbors then we decide that unless they are sitting in our front yard screaming their love of New YoGo’s Fruit Roll-Ups, Fred has discovered the ON button to the Television.

“Fred. Did you turn on the TV while you were supposed to be in Time-out?”

Sitting there where we left him in the elephant chair facing the door Fred looks up eyes wide and says “Nu Unh”

“You didn’t? Then who did?”

With his arm and pointed index finger suddenly slicing through the air like a Ninja throwing star Fred gave the only possible and most obvious explanation.

“Kitty!!”

Buttons and Fred have this love hate relationship that has grown over time. At first Buttons couldn’t stand Fred. Than Fred didn’t like Buttons. Then Fred learned to feed Buttons. Now Buttons lets Fred pet him as long as Fred sneaks up behind him and does it while I’m scratching his ears. At the mention of his name Buttons who was sleeping in his trunk across the room raises up and cut’s a mean look in Fred’s direction.

“Are you sure Kitty turned on the TV?”

“Unnnn Huhhhh!!”

“You saw Kitty get up, turn on the TV, then go waaaay over there, and fall back to sleep?”

“Unnn Huhhh. Kitty sleeping”

At that point Time-Out ended. How can you punish him after coming up with that fantastic story? Already I’m planning on using it the next time Lucy finds my shoes under the coffee table and when my boss wonders who ate the last of the donuts.

Catching Up

After a week of poison ivy and the subsequent roid rage I experienced afterward trying to get rid of it, I decided to take a week off from blogging….well sort of. The BOB’s are still going on for another month and I’m looking at about 50+ blogs a day. I think all the critiquing of my fellow bloggers made me look too close at Charlie. Sure I keep up with who’s reading, but I’ve never let numbers dictate what or when I write. Overall the whole “freelance writing” thing has pretty much dried up for me for the moment. The people I normally turn to for work don’t currently have anything and after a couple of months of not being able to scratch up any of my own (most blogging jobs receive an average of 500-2000 applicants per day) I decided last week to quit putting so much effort into finding good paying part-time work and start focusing on getting a better paying 8-5.

Meanwhile I’ve got a couple great adventures to share this week including one about what happens in Time-Out when nobody is looking and another concerning Fred’s growing need to be the opposite of everyone else. First off though I need to clean house and take care of a couple of things namely The Top 5 Consequences Of My Steroid Use and I was given an Excellent Blog Award!!!

As an Excellent Blog Award Winner(which has nothing to do with the Best Of Blog awards I'm working on) I must do two things 1) I must acknowledge the person who gave me the award with some linky love (thank you my darling Weird Girl) and 2) I get to pass the award on to ten of my favorite bloggers which must in turn do the same as I and countless other recipients have done. So here we go in no particular order:

1. Adventure Dad

2. Poop N Boogies

3. Sarah And The Goon Squad

4. Jules

5. I Think This World Is Perfect

6. Jim’s Running Commentary

7. Child’s Play X 2

8. Father Of Five

9. Mitch McDad

10. Dad Stuff

Some of these are my favorites because they are from my area of the country, others are funnier than I will every be. Either way most of these I check out on a daily basis. So pass on the linky love. Now on to……

The Top 5 Consequences Of My Steroid Use

1. I actually told the Wednesday night Bible Class for young married couples “The Love You Make Is The Love You Take”
2. Par’d my first hole of golf ever!! Followed by my second par ever on the next hole!! Followed by a couple of nice bogey’s a few holes later!! Must have been the extra muscle I was putting behind the ball
3. Got into a huge un-provoked argument with Lucy over why I can never wake her up in the morning.
4. Lucy got a nice bouquet of flowers for “no reason at all”
5. Inability to sleep allowed me to clear my Tivo To Do List. Thus leaving me worried that I might be caught with a spare moment in which I have nothing to watch and consequently filling it back up with reruns of House and episodes of Law & Order SVU

Steroid Scandal Rocks The Blockhead Family

You read it correctly. The rumors are true. No need to have some long winded Congressional sub committee look into the startling allegations brought on by a beefed up no count ex-athlete turned punk author looking to make a quick buck. I confess.

I Charlie Blockhead come before you today to admit that I have and am still currently taking steroids……AND I’M LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT!!!!

After all they are not only knocking out the poison ivy, but I’m thinking about giving ole’Broccoli a run for his money and taking the title of BUFFEST BLOCKHEAD. I’m also considering ripping a tornado sized path through an unnamed cube farm and blaming it all on roid-rage.

Before the drugs take full effect and while I’m still able to feel sympathy for others, I’d like to also apologize in advance to the members of my family for my future attitude. Remember Fred that’s not Daddy telling you boys don’t wear yellow sunglasses, that’s the drugs talking. Lucy….well Lucy since every year at this time I seem to find myself once again trying to get the Prednisone monkey off my back all I got to say to you is be thankful it’s only for 7 days and remember how happy I make you the other 51 weeks of the year…..on second thought I love you and deep down I will understand if you kick me out of our bed and into the cat hair covered twin bed in the next room. No matter how much I insist that I’m perfectly happy being thrown out of my own room, please know I’m secretly aching on the inside. Though Button’s nails may be longer, your heart is bigger.

As for the rest of the world your best bet is to stay out of my way and give me plenty of room to breathe if anything else for out of fear that I may actually show you the horns that grow out of the top of my head as a direct result of the steroids and that I may tell you where I plan to stick them if you don’t quit doing such idiot things as refusing to drive 1 mile over the speed limit, including tomatoes on my burger even after I have made sure to order said burger using the exact phrase “I’d like a no tomato burger, with bacon, no tomato, cheese, not tomato, and chili fries with no tomato”, and not holding the door open for me at the Hill thus making me have to enter in that stupid yet obviously necessary safety door pass key number even though I waste 5 minutes of my life every morning doing unto you while risking the annoying stare of my boss as he notices once again that I’m late and would more than likely laugh me out of the office if he knew it’s because I continuously find myself regulated to doorman between 7:35 and 7:40 every morning.

You have been warned. Exit Bruce Banner. Enter THE HULK.

Who We Are Now

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about life before Fred and Lucy. Maybe it’s got something to do with my recent neck problems (Dad’s Dr. seems to think it’s hereditary), plus this cough I can’t shake, mixed with my first case of poison ivy for the year (caught it on the first weekend cutting grass!! Yeah me!!), in addition to all this gray hair I’m sporting, but suddenly it’s like I’ve taken a step back and I’m seeing things….people for who they are today and not who they were. You may remember that in the first month of this year alone Fred caught Pneumonia twice, spent 3 days in the hospital, the car broke down 4 times, Lucy changed jobs, insurance changed, and life in 2008 seemed like a scary place to live in. Not so much now though.

Fred is changing so much I’d need to quit the day job in order to blog about all his exploits. I often wonder what Lucy and I did all day Pre-Fred. We waited 8 years to have a child and part of me knows most of that was spent building the life we have today. Climbing our way out of debt and out of that 1 bedroom slum that shines like a golden palace in our memories. I don’t regret those days at all until I stop to consider all that we accomplish in the 24-hour 7 days week Parenting Lifestyle we now dwell in. I wonder what we did with all that free time we never knew we had. I simply don’t remember anything other than Lucy and I being in love. Sure there are images and stories that are stored away somewhere in the recess of my mind, but life now is like the sequel to some great adventure that will never truly end….the purpose just changes.

Boy meets girl, they fall in love, struggle through years of hard work to build a world together, get everything they always wanted….The End.

New book, same boy and girl, life is different, cast of characters has moved on and some have moved away, baby comes and….the adventure continues. Same but different.

I no longer recognize that boy that fought day in and day out with the angry man. I wonder what he thought life would be like twenty years later. Truth is, I somehow know that he never thought about anything other than “where’s everybody hanging out tonight?”

The brother and mother….the family torn up and yet better off. The Nani went to Nashville to see Broccoli this weekend and after a brief call to let me know she made it back, I got the sense that I’m not the only one waking up and staring out amazed at the new world that has grown up around us in the blink of an eye. As if we were coma patients suddenly finding ourselves light years into the future and swearing a heartbeat of time had only passed.

Even the Gigi seems to be changing. We are never meant to get along with our in-laws partly because we’ve just spent the greatest part of our lives trying to break away from our own parents only to be given a new set, neither of which by choice or some process of personal selection. To see the bond between her and Fred and how he runs through the house for entire days saying “Gigi? Nani? Gigi? Nani? Gigi?” as if one or the other is hiding just around the next turn waiting to surprise him, erases all thoughts of how relationships were and how we got to this point. The important thing is we are here.

Though I’m considering dying the gray out of my hair and have suddenly taken up the habit of falling asleep in front of the televised Sunday afternoon golf game, all of this change has made me feel younger than ever. Never in my life have I wanted warmer temps to get here so badly. There are kite’s to be flown, Frisbees to be thrown, a pack of sidewalk chalk that demands to be used up. There are more adventures to be had by Lucy, Fred, Gigi, Nani, Broccoli….and of course Charlie Blockhead.

I can’t wait to see how this turns out.

Phantom Menace

Over the weekend my neck started cramping up in a bad way. It started Saturday and immediately I wrote if off to a crick, except that it sorta started in the middle of the day and got worse. Then I remembered trying to play He-Man Friday night with a new push mower I had bought (it includes a grass catcher so that Fred can play outside and not have to wade through a foot of dead grass). The salesman seemed to have lifted it with ease, so why should I have a problem doing the same. When I tried though something popped in my neck and the thing didn’t budge.

That was 4-5 days ago and it’s still killing me….then I had a conversation that has now got me completely freaked out. My dad lives in Jacksonville, Fl and though I only get to see him once or twice a year, we talk on the phone about every 2 weeks. I had last chatted him up about a week ago and he was still suffering through the flu. He said he’d call me back when he felt better. No big deal. A week goes by and The Granny calls asking when the last time I had talked to him was. Seems she had been trying to reach him for a few days and couldn’t get him to answer the phone.

Later in the day I called, got him to answer, only to discover that he’d been to the ER 3 times in 4 days. It turns out that out of the blue his neck had cramped up so severely that he may have to start taking some physical therapy depending on the results of an MRI they have scheduled for this coming Friday!!!! It wasn’t until I hung up the phone and tried to turn my head without looking like a robot, that I realized the freaky connection! Now I’m wondering if the timing is coincidence, yet possibly something genetic I need to be aware of is going on or if I’m having sympathy neck pains.

Alabama Skank And Seafood

When somebody opens up a conversation with the words “This weekend I thought we’d go to this seafood restaurant that used to be a brothel” One’s first reaction is “Allll right. I can go for that. How long ago is “used to be”?”

When that somebody happens to be your grandmother (the same one married to a preacher) one’s reaction falls along the lines of “Granny do you know what a brothel is and what they normally serve there?” To this she added, “Back in civil war and yes I know it used to be a place where ladies of the night conducted business, but they have great catfish”

So there we were, down to see the GP’s for Easter Weekend with Broccoli and Brookli in tow and somehow wound up in the classic setup to every backwoods horror movie ever made ala “From Dusk Till Dawn”. Tucked away underneath a bridge and just a few feet away from the muddy banks of some unknown river, lies every brother- that-ever-married-their-sister’s dream of fine dinning aka Ezels (apparently that’s French for lady of the night). From the looks of the place and the constant remarks being made by Granny as she pointed to what used to be top floor suites, I pretty much had my mind set on what I was going to find once I crossed the crooked threshold. Instead what I found was worse.

How worse? A squirrel’s face glued to the butt of a stuffed deer worse. Now I should probably end this here and let you think about that last sentence overnight (not that I would blame you for not wanting to), but the story demands to be told.

I’ll say it again; a squirrel’s face had been cut off and glued to the butt of a stuffed deer. Like some scientific experiment gone awry from the Island Of Dr. Moreau, Broccoli was so shocked by it’s presence he just had to know what was literally staring him in the face thus making him forget all about the catfish he had been promised.

So as I was saying; there we were Lucy, Granny, Broccoli, Brookli, Fred, and myself all making direct contact with each other so as not to be grossed out by the table clothes that had not been changed since confederate soldiers once marched in looking for companionship (the place probably smelled the same). All the while feeling the eyes of at least 30 stuffed animal heads (deer, hogs, fish, that squirrel deer thing…a squireer…) staring us down as we attempted to keep the conversation up so as not to hear the sounds of Ned Beatty squealing like a pig somewhere in the not so distant background.

It was during these first few moments of the meal that Fred decided to throw a tantrum…little did we know his cries would make our existence known to something more frightening than a squireer. Suddenly as I sat there calming Fred down (nobody likes to be scolded) everyone at the table looked up in terror at something just to the left of me. As I peered over my shoulder wondering what could possibly make that many eyes bug out at the same time (other than possibly the squireer walking up to take our drink order) I saw none other than:

 

That’s right!! The story of the witch that tempted Snow White is true except she offers her prey greasy hushpuppies instead of juicy apples. With a crooked finger and the look of the completely insane she whispered “What’s wrong little boy?”

Being the brave father that I am I quickly switched the baby to my other shoulder thus blocking him from any ancient dwarfing curse that could be cast upon him and begged the witch to leave us alone….we just wanted some catfish and were not there to anger the ghost of prostitution past. With that our food was served, the squireer was commanded to haunt my every sleep, and we ran out of there before it got dark and the hillbilly hookers showed up for third shift.

Work'n 9-4:30 What A Way To Make A Live'n

Lucy has been at her new job at the real estate agency for little over two months now and she absolutely loves it. She was at the last place for 9 years and is a much happier person now that she has moved on…..but of course this blog is all about me and I’ve got some issues concerning her new gig.

When you’re in a marriage in which both people work, you look at each other’s jobs and compare how crummy things are.

What did you do today?

I applied credits for six hours straight.

Heh. I got yelled at by a stinky dude with a mullet who couldn’t add up the number of children he’s got.

It’s really important that nobody has too good of a job because it makes things that much harder on the one that suddenly finds themselves with the less than spectacular place of employment.

What did you do today?

I had to pull a proof of delivery on every invoice we sent to Company ABC last year.

Heh. I went to a meeting at the country club for female business leaders and won a mani/pedi!!

See what I mean? The scales have tipped. It’s one thing to complain about work when the other person has it just as bad, it’s a whole other enchilada when you’re the only one griping. Not to mention it makes it worse for the lesser person cause he knows it’s probably not so bad, but look how awesome things are on her much greener side of the mountain.

The only way to deal with this is to look at how happy the other person is and how much more fun they have suddenly become. Specifically speaking, Lucy is bouncing around like a teenager again and I find myself happier than ever because of it. Let’s face it when mama is happy, everybody is happy. She’s laughing at my jokes, eating healthier, asking me to take long walks in the afternoon, meeting me for lunch, and well….well I’ll just leave it at that. LOL

And The No's Have It

Well the votes are in (no not the BoB's they are still going strong for a few more weeks). I'm talking about the two polls I have been conducting on the sidebar. Here's how they all went down:

Should Fred Get A Hair Cut?         

Yes: 27%

No:   72%

Should Fred Get A Cat?

Yes: 15%

No:   78%

Hamster: 5%

As you can see it seems the NO's have it. Does this mean the golden locks are safe....unfortunately no. What it does mean though is that only a few of them will trimmed and his curls will remain!! After all, they are like his trademark. The cat issue is a different story. Lucy really wants him to have a kitten since Buttons is 12 and not the nicest pet a 2 year-old ever had. The issue is still being kicked around, but your vote may have helped cool the waters. 

Thanks to all that participated and look for more voting opportunities soon!!

Back To The Real World

It’s always hard to get back into the swing of things after a vacation. Even if it’s just a three day weekend, there’s just something about having to come back to work that puts a grimace on your face. Things have been especially tough this time around due to a couple of special occasions. A trip to Granny’s and The Blue’s Clues Birthday Bash And Dash.

Fred was spoiled before the week of his birthday, but after 3 parties, 3 cakes, 7 days of presents, 2 Easter egg hunts, and 1 day at the golf course with Daddy….whew I just get tired thinking about it…..he has forgotten the meaning of the word NO. In there somewhere you can add a trip to Granny’s (technically his great-grandmother) featuring his favorite uncle/aunt combo Broccoli and Brookli. It’s no wonder Lucy and I now have to figure out just what to do with this new personality our 2 year-old has decided to adopt.

NO BATH

NO SCHOOL

DO NOT HIT YOUR MOTHER

CLEAN UP YOUR MESSES

NO EAT

NO KITTY

WE DO NOT HIT THE KITTY

OUTSIDE

IT’S TOO COLD TO GO OUTSIDE

HOLD ME

I CAN’T HOLD YOU ALL THE TIME

QUIT DUMPING YOUR TOYS IN THE FLOOR

BUBBLES

WE HAVE TO PAY FOR THE BUBBLES BEFORE YOU CAN OPEN THEM

BUUUUBBBBBLLLLLEEESSSSSS

WE’VE BEEN OUTSIDE BLOWING BUBBLES FOR TWO HOURS

NNNNNNOOOOOOO

THROWING YOURSELF ON THE FLOOR IS NOT GOING TO GET YOU ANYTHING MISTER

DO YOU WANT TIME OUT?

Other than the occasional swat to the hand we have been pretty luck in the bad behavior department….I think our luck ran out last week and to be honest who could blame him. If I had all that done for me on my birthday (the parties, the constant stream of presents, all that cake, trips to the park) I’d probably drop to the ground and demand it to continue as well.

At 32 I still come home grumpy after leaving Granny’s. My grandparents live in a world where nobody screams, nobody worries (not out loud anyway), there’s very little in the way of work, and everything is in God’s hands. Now in my old age I’m sure of two things 1) It’s only this way because they put life on hold just to get everything out of the little amount of time they have with us and 2) it’s never really as green on the other side as it seems.

Still though after every trip I come back proclaiming this will be done (I was going to take drama my Senior year in high school) and this habit will stop (no more biting my nails!!). Then reality sets in and I too am left kicking and screaming cause I can’t spend all day/everyday with my family. Bills have to be paid, grass needs to be cut, and rules on how we are to behave need to be re-established. That’s what makes the special moments in life so enjoyable….if they happened everyday we’d never learn to cherish them.

A Birthday, A Bunny, & A Beautiful Day

 

Welcome To Charlie. Have A Seat. Take A Look Around.

The last time I changed the furniture around here at Charlie I swore it would be the last time for at least a while. It takes me forever to find a design I like and that green/bear/rainbow thing I had going on will always be my favorite. The problem I was having wasn’t with the look, it was with how hard it was to make changes to Blogger. I mean I had to teach myself HTML all over again every time I wanted to do something as simple as add a link.

Since Lijit is a major sponsor of the Best Of Blog Awards I felt I needed to test it out so last week I attempted to up load it and was told that I would have to update Charlie to the newest version of Blogger before I could do anything. The only problem was that I’d loose my design. Still I had been having serious issues with it anyway so I figured if it made posting just the slightest bit easier, than I’m all for it.

Now a week later I have to say I absolutely love it!! I’ve got a couple polls going on over there on the right of the screen (Lucy wants Fred to have a kitten cause Buttons is to old to have any fun) and you can also check out what I’m reading/listening to. The behind the scenes setup and navigation is easier than ever, plus I can add widgets at will.

What do you guys think? Anything I can do to make it more enjoyable for you?

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Bath

I know I said I wasn’t going to post again but all this work over at the BoB’s has put the fun back into it. Today I’m wondering how to tell my boss that the reason I was late this morning was because I couldn’t get Fred’s shirt off.

Not that he’ll ask but on the off chance I’d like to have something better for him than “My 2-year old locked his arms in the down position and refused to take his shirt off.”

How can something that small be so strong?

“NO SHIRT!!!” After fighting him for 15 minutes, Lucy’s answer was “Just put him in the bath anyway. The shirt needs washing too.”

He ran around the house for a half hour naked from the waste down threatening to pee on everything from the cat to the coat rack, finally I got it him off him. Then I heard “NO BATH” Once I got the shirt off, this one was easy. Just dunk him and go. Before he even knew he was wet he was out and screaming “NO SHOES”

Meanwhile the clock is ticking for both Lucy and I as we realize the Control Freak (as we are beginning to call him) is about to make us late. That’s when Lucy found the ultimate “get out of the house without having to beat him” card “Don’t you wanna see your girl Drew?”

Drew is this adorable blonde girl that can often be found holding Fred’s hand when Lucy arrives to take him home in the afternoons.

It’s funny to see his face and watch how he deals with questions by saying them out loud.

“Drew?”

“Dreeeewwww????”

“Drew.”

“DREW!!!”

“SHOES ON!!!”

What can I say dude’s got a thing for the chics man.

Blue's Birthday Bash And Dash (Part II)

Well we did it!! Despite having to turn a boring cake into something unforgettable and having Fred almost fall asleep in the middle of it, we pulled off the best Blue's Clues Birthday Party any 2-year old has ever seen. With his actual birthday coming up on the 20th we are planning a smaller get together and that's when he'll get the ultimate gift A TRICYCLE!!!! Thankfully he can't read yet and I know none of you will spoil the surprise (not that he knows what the word means anyways) We are going to Granny's later this week and the plan is to take Fred to the golf course for the first time to use his new clubs Pops got him before we leave town. Just in case I don't get around to posting again this week, feel free to wish Fred a Happy Birthday here, and enjoy the video/pictures of the celebration.

Blue's Birthday Bash And Dash

  

 

Fred’s 2^nd birthday party is this weekend and though we’ve been planning it for months, it’s coming down to last minute details. Like for example our cake maker calling the day before we were to pick it up and telling us she has the flu. Since we did not order a "germ"an style birthday cake, we quickly had to come up with an alternative. Cross your fingers with me and pray it turns out ok.

The BoB’s are going full blast at the same time as the party prep’s and Lucy/I are swimming in a sea of Blue Blue. Half of every night is spent on party prep and the other (9-Midnight) half is devoted to the awards. Tonight we make bone shaped cookies with blue sugar frosting and hand drawn blue paw prints in the center (again cross those fingers). Since the party hasn’t happened yet I don’t wanna give away too many details but I will say we finally managed to get a shirt for Fred just like the one Steve wears ($25 used on Ebay!! We found one for $15). Tomorrow night we set up at the church gym and then at 10:00 Saturday morning the best Blue’s Clues party ever given will be in full swing (cross whatever you’ve got left to cross).

Technorati Tags: Blues clues,birthday party,turning 2,best of blog awards

My Favorite "Before I Became One" Fantasy

As the parent of a toddler I'm continuously shocked by my misconceptions of what kind of parent I was going to be back when I was yet to have one. It's something we all go through when we start thinking about kids. I remember seeing a parent lose control once at a retail store and thinking "If that was my kid there would be none of that. No sir my child will know who the boss is" Which didn't turn out to be too far from the truth, because let's face it we both know he's the boss. I'd visit friends with children and look around in amazement at the warehouse of toys that dared to take over their entire home. Again I'd say, "My child will know the joys of playing outside. Forget video games and personal DVD players. My child will like to read and will be able to carry on an actual conversation without referring to Pokeman or Yugi-o" Two years later Blue and Steve seem to be on an endless hunt for the latest clue and it's a wonder the wonder pets ever get turned off.

My favorite "before I became one" fantasy revolves around dinner. When you're married without children dinnertime rarely ends in somebody crying, never is the scene of a crouton-throwing contest, and typically only one set of silverware is needed per person . Nowadays I find myself wondering if we should stop by that "Clown" place on the way to where the rest of us plan to eat because for some reason clowns make better chicken tenders than those so called professionally trained chefs at the lobster house. Not to mention somehow clowns have found a way to charge less for their efforts.

To say I have a fussy eater would be an understatement, but it's not so much he doesn't like eating different types of foods rather it's the fact that he's very moody about it. I'm to the point where I'm keeping a mental journal of what he's eating at every meal in hopes of predicting his next change of tongue. Don't get me wrong there's nothing bad about having a favorite food, but what do you when your child eats chicken seven nights in a row and then on the eighth night looks up at you like you've just committed a crime. "How dare you feed me chicken eight times in a row. What kind of parent are you!!!" Of course we all know the answer to that question, we have learned to be parents that come prepared with not just plan A's but also B's, C's, and even D's. Unlike the parents before us, we don't just send our kids to bed if they don't like what is being served. We realize that doing that will only result in us having to make fried bologna at 2:00 A.M. because Jr. knows that the best way to get what he wants is to deprive mommy and daddy of sleep. We are parents in the year 2008 and that means if Suzie doesn't want the hamburger we bought her than no big deal!! There's a granola bar and a banana in the diaper bag. Plus, they are 10 times better for her than some greasy hamburger.

I know some people think that parents of my generation are doing nothing but spoiling their children and depriving them of the tough skin they will need to survive on their own. I disagree. We simply have the financial means to provide our children with more than our parents provided us. After all that's what we were always told by our parents wasn't it? "These two jobs will be worth it someday when I see you working in some cozy corner office with three degrees on the wall." The way I see it, by giving my child choices as dinnertime I'm simply fulfilling my parents wishes. Besides he won't act like that when he's a teenager...

Technorati Tags: fussy eaters,parenting,married life

My Brett Favre Moment

Long before Lucy and I had Fred we were people that would leave town at the drop of a hat and drive 600 miles in the middle of the night just to spend 24 hours on a beach and come back. One year we hopped down to Gulfport, MS. to see Tim McGraw put on an outdoor concert next to the beach. All of the proceeds from the concert went to the Brett Favre foundation and rumor had it he was lurking around backstage somewhere.

So the concert's over, we had the time of our lives screaming about how we were Indian Outlaws and Real Good Men, we make our way to the back afterward to catch a glimpse of McGraw getting on his bus...and there goes Brett not 10 feet away from us heading to a hotel/casino across the street.

At this point I could lie and say I shook his hand and took my picture with him and he signed Lucy's..never mind. It would be a lie so I won't tell it. Nobody wants to have to keep up with a purse during a concert. There's too many people all crammed in together so backpacks are too bulky as well. Of course you wanna go have a good time and not worry about baggage, so you leave everything but your wallet hidden under a blanket in the trunk of the car and put your cash/I.D in your front pocket.

We're standing there and sure enough Brett Favre walks by some ten feet away. 

We all scream "Hey Brett!!!"

Then it hits me. I gotta get him to sign something. "WHO'S GOT A PEN!!!! IT'S BRETT FREAK'N FARVE!! I NEEEEDDD A PEEEENNNN"

I can't very well ask the man to borrow a pen to sign his own name, or can I?

"HEY BRETT CAN YOU SIGN MY.." My what? I don't have nothing for him to sign!

"WHO'S GOT A SCRAP OF PAPER!!! I NEED A PEN AND SOME PAPER!!! COME BACK BRETTTTT! I NEED TO BORROW SOME PAPER AND A PEN SO YOU CAN SIGN YOUR NAME!!!!"

Alas it never happened...no paper, no pen, nothing for him to sign except for Lucy's..and she'd probably want to wash them sooner or later so there went that as well. At least I got to say Hi though. Sunday's will never be the same.

 

Technorati Tags: brett farve,greenbay packers,nfl,greatest moments,tim mcgraw