Welcome Back Mr.Green Jeans

As a kid I remember waking up every Saturday morning and catching the latest episode of everyone's surrogate grandpa Captain Kangaroo. Although I don't remember specifics of the show I do recall that groovy mustache the Captain was sporting and some type of kangaroo hand puppet that looked like it was made from a baseball cap. Another part of the show I remember is the one and only Mr. Green Jeans. Again I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but I'm pretty sure that it was Mr. Green Jeans's job to keep the Captain's garden nice and ...uh green I guess.

Well after 25 years, the late Mr. Jeans is now back in my life and showing me the path to keeping the planet clean. No I'm not talking about the Captian coming out on DVD (although that would be soooo awesome), I'm talking about Fred and his dislike of wasted energy. For some reason the kid hates to have the lights on. It doesn't matter what you are doing or who's in the room, if there is a light to turn off he's the man who'll make sure it's off.

This is great and all until you finally find those ten minutes of privacy you have been begging for so you can curl up on the couch and finish the last and most crucial page of your new book, only to left in the dark the moment you get comfortable. So you get up,tell him you were using the light, get seated, open your book, and CLICK....in the dark once again. So you get up, tell him you were using the light, get seated, open your book, and CLICK....in the dark once again. Pretty soon you find yourself in a constant loop involving sitting, standing, telling him to stop, cutting on the light, and attempting to sit again, only to be....you guessed it..... left in the dark once again.

How can you yell at a kid "STOP SAVING US MONEY BY KEEPING THE LIGHTS OFF"?

The Brothers Blockhead

Broccoli's getting married in a couple of months and as the Best Man I'm responsible for giving a speech, just as he did when he was the Best Man at my wedding. I know I've still got a couple of months but I've been kicking over ideas.

The whole process has gotten me thinking about our childhood together and how we were close once....then the 5 year's that separate out ages intervened and left us strangers. The Broccoli I remember will always be this buck toothed kid who scurried under a recently parked car to get a tennis ball and suffered 2nd degree burns on his leg as it came into contact with a very hot catalytic converter all because I sent him after it. He'll be the guy who to this day laughs every time he sees me holding milk because in his mind's eye he's looking at a teenage Charlie who busted three gallons of milk on the way back from a simple walk to the store (the third one I help over my head and actually screamed aloud "Bet I won't drop this one"). Broccoli was the kind of brother that tried to tell mom that the 2 inch bleeding wound on the top of his head happened at school and had nothing to do with me throwing a rock at him as hard as he could (I still say he zagged when he should have zigged).

Of course all of this was before cars, girls, fraternities, jobs, college, family, and way before Fred. Somewhere amongst all that life, Charlie, he....I.....we lost touch. Sure we still saw each other when our common denominator brought us together (mom), but long gone were the days of playing hide and go seek at granny's or walking up to PJ's corner for a hand full of Jolly Rancher sticks.

The result is that now with me being 32 (at least for another month) and him at 27, we tend to be more like pen pals at times. Neither of us understanding just how we came to be the person we are or what makes up the inner workings of the other's day. While I'm busy researching tomorrow's article, struggling to make it through the 8-5, and teaching Fred to poop in the potty....I assume he's....living I a life I know nothing about.

My opinions are different, the pages of our shared history seem to written in my own hand writing, and the things I remember about growing up (Cody the 3 legged dog) , he can't recall. Though we will always be brothers, at times it seems we are friends out of circumstance rather than choice. As he prepares to recite those words that lock two souls together like an invisible (and hopefully invincible) pair of handcuffs, I too am making promises. And while I can't help but think he's still out there zigging while I'm zagging, I know that as our lives progress every once in a while our paths will cross and once again we will be those same two kids who used to spend all weekend in our rooms under a homemade tent of sheets, chairs, and clothes-pins watching old Godzilla movies.

A Multiple Choice Existence

I remember being part of the "Married With No Child" club and being amazed at how long it took my "Married With Child" friends to get anywhere. They would bring their kids over, we'd let them run around the house for hours at a time, and as we were turning off the lights to go to bed we'd see them out there still trying to load eveything back into the car after spending a half hour in our driveway.

I thought the reasons behind this had to do with the amount of baggage that constantly swirls around a kid like the moons of some chaotic planet. Now that I have a two year-old I understand that it's got more to do with a power struggle taking place than a simple inventory check. Fred has decided that Mommy/Daddy's way is not always the only way to do things. Suddenly the phrase "I Help!" though it may flow from the tongue in a mere micro-second, can lead to tens of minutes staring into a dark closet searching for that elusive shirt of choice.

That shirt doesn't have Blue's Clues on it, this shirt isn't green, that's shirt just isn't up to his standards, that one doesn't appeal to what his sense of Casual Friday's should consist of. Everything is a multiple choice question and more times than not the correct answer is D) NONE OF THE ABOVE. And while letting them make their own decisions is inevitable and good for them, it does get very frustrating trying to find out where the thin line between "Let me make up my own mind" and "Just do what I say so we can move on to the next thing" is located.

I admit that the constant ticking sound in my head reminding me that my day is often timed down to the second, gets so loud at times that I forget that the life of toddler is more "This is what I'm doing now" and less "Look at all I've got to do today". In my defense telling my boss that I'm late for the second time this week because I suddenly found myself in a twenty minute debate over whether or not wearing your pajamas to school even if it means taking them off, getting a bath, and then putting them back on isn't something that I wish to share though simply blaming it on traffic only results in his retort "Should have left sooner"

As much as it pains me (and my schedule) to admit it though maybe turning over some amount of control is a good thing. Deciding what you want can be difficult at times even at the age of 32. So maybe by letting him make his own choices while still maintaining a certain level of control, Lucy and I are actually preparing him for a future of in which the correct answers aren't always A,B, or C. Sure to some it may seem like we are spoiling the child and sparing the rod, but then again when it comes time to make the hard choices in life he potentially could be more prepared to make the correct choice due to years of practice all leading back to that day in August of 2008 when he was allowed to pick out the T-shirt of the day.

What Does Disney Have Against Parents?

In case you didn't notice (and thanks to all those that did) I took a week off last week due to some freelance stuff I was trying to get a handle on. I'm currently writing for Petsourse.org and MyGolfClubReviews.com so that's about 10-12 articles I'm doing plus a couple posts here every week. Before I get into today's rant about how Disney hates parents, I want to also mention that my buddy Jim over at Genuine is back to posting regularly so give him a click (not that he needs more traffic than he already gets) and check him out. He's been through some stuff and is busy adding a new coat of paint to his life. Now on with the show.....



Why is it that Disney hates parents and insists on tormenting our children with the thought of Mommy or Daddy biting the big one? Fred's at the age where TV isn't just a bunch of pictures flashing across the screen and instead he's aware of a story or idea that is being protrayed on screen. So lately Family Time has included several Disney classics. While he doesn't typically sit through the whole thing his attention is captured for an hour or so at a time and this allows us to split the movies up into 2-3 night segments.

The more I watch these so called classics the more I getting the feeling that Disney seems to think that the only way to produce a children's classic is to kill of one of the parents in order to jump start the plot. Think about all those great cartoons and then think about how they really get going.

In The Lion King, Mufasa is killed by heynas. Bambi's mom kicks the bucket in a forest fire. Nemo's mom got ate by a bigger fish. Aladdin's mom is dead and you don't find out until the second one that his dad is a con artist who ran off like a gypsy. No word is mentioned about Andy's dad in Toy Store and Buzz's dad turns out to be the nefarious Zorg destroyer of the universe. Oh and where is the Little Mermaid's mommy? She's dead of course.

I mean what is the deal? And on a side note why does everybody remember The Fox And The Hound as this cute little kids movie? We just watched it last week and the hound is out for blood as he chases the fox through the woods. That's not cute that's violent. So what's the answer you ask? Simple. The Fast Forward button.

Sure this will someday have us answering Fred's questions as to why Bambi's mom abandoned him when he needed her the most and how come Simba's dad never came back from that walk they took, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it....maybe they were still there in the background all along and couldn't help their children because it was their destiny to grow into the animals they are by the end of the movie. Sure it's a lie, but it's better than Dumbo's mom got locked in a cage for protecting him.

Who Rock's The Potty? I Rock The Potty!!

We've been trying desperately to get Fred potty trained and finally our efforts are paying off. He's excited about it, he feels a bit guilty when he forgets to go, they are helping out at the hill, I dare say we are just months away from being a pull-up free household.

After two years of changing, wiping, holding my nose, covering my eyes (mostly when they get rang up at the check-out line) we may be just about to move to underwear. AAHHH underwear....washable, reusable, relatively cheap underwear. Nothing says I AM MAN like holey worn out barely there underwear. Wear them like a hat, put them on the cat, keep them on for days, I don't care I love underwear.

Screen Doors And Spinning Monkeys.

We are at the point in our parenting adventure where you truly never know what Fred is going to do next. Whether he's getting in trouble at school for putting a chair on a table, climbing up on the table, and then standing in the chair or yelling "Get in the hole!!"whenever he gets within 100 yards of a golf club, he always seems to be up to something. As a kid we all had those miniature wind-up toys with the little white gear on the side you twisted till it clicked. That click was the universal signal that meant it was time to put the jumping football, flipping monkey, or chattering teeth down and watch it go Willie-Nillie all over the place.

A two year old is like that in a lot of ways. Except that instead of turning a white plastic gear, you give him gummy bears. Oh and instead of a two inch flipping monkey, you end up with a laughing, crying, kicking, squealing manic who knows the word NO only in the sense that he expects you to listen to him when he says it, but looks at you like you're quoting Othelo when you say it.

This past weekend somebody wound our monkey up and sent him crashing through a screen door at his Uncle Broccoli's engagement party. While nothing was hurt and nobody left the scene bleeding, in the midst of the sideways glances and looks of horror from those who were dressed as if future President Obama himself were about to make an appearance, I couldn't help but laugh at my like boy as he dusted himself off and shrugged his shoulders as if to say "Ok, now that I've broken something let the real party begin!!"

Color Me Bad

One thing they never tell you before you become a parent is that you better be careful with the child while you are flying solo or you'll be in just as much trouble as he/she is if something is destroyed, mangled, or in my case changes color.

It could have just as easily happened to Lucy and I'm sure there's been a couple of times when I've come in to find that Fred has scarred the house or car is some way....I just don't remember them now. In my defense I was not on the computer during the time the destruction took place no matter what she says, though I can't really remember what I was doing so I guess you could say that was up to interpretation.

I don't have pictures because A) I've got a cold and didn't think about how funny it was as I scrubbed red crayon off the wall of our hallway at Midnight and B) I had thought that once I got all of it off the coffee table that I would be home free....I had yet to turn on the light in the hall at that time so....

Lucy was good about it. As good as she could be. Fred only got a stern talking too by Lucy as he went to bed, mainly because when I came around the corner and saw a red coffee table instead of a yellow striped one I went straight into damage control. I think that's when he must have snuck past me and decorated the hall.

If only he had drawn a smiley face or wrote I Love U Mommy! I could have done something cool like put an empty frame around it, but I felt sure nobody was going to appreciate a bunch of zigzags other than of course Fred.

Either way the most important thing is that I got it all off and now we have a very clean coffee table as well as several clean spots in the hall.

G-O-L-F Spells Grief

The smarter Fred gets the more we have to spell things out in order to not trigger that part of every kids brain that tells them that if they repeat something enough we will give it to them.

Those of you who have spent any time with us know that we often sound like we are practicing for the National Spelling Bee. Except that I’m a little slower than Lucy and often times Fred figures out what she is trying to say before I do.

“Hey dad I bought some B-u-b-b-l-e-s’es for you guys to play with outside.”

“What did Fred get at Kate-Kate’s party?”
“C-h-a-l-k”

“Are you and Pops going to play G-o-l-f in the morning?”

G-O-L-F has become a very popular word around our house lately especially since I start writing a blog about the subject next week. It’s actually two sites and I’m sharing writing duties with another writer, but that’s off topic. I’ve taken Fred to play a few times now and since I need to know what I’m talking about I’ve been watching/reading all I can on the game. Anytime he hears the word, whoever said it has to go outside and play with him for half an hour.

Another word we spell is M-c-D-o-n-a-l-d-s. All he wants to eat is C-h-i-c-k C-h-i-c-k’s

Then there’s M-i-l-k, which we are trying to get him to drink less of.
“He needs to take a B-a-t-h” This one usually sends him running the other way in the same fashion as the cat when he hears the V-e-t word or when I see the U-t-i-l-i-t-y B-i-l-l.

Swimming In Circles

Fred started swimming lessons last week so everyday from 5:30-6 we can be found lounging out by the city’s public pool. When we first started kicking over the idea of Fred learning to swim a couple of things immediately came to mind. 1) We are talking about my son so do we really want him to learn how to swim when walking down the hall without tripping over his own feet is still a problem? I mean I’m 32 and I still fall all the time. 2) Our idea of swimming lessons involves people in red one-piece bathing suits ala Baywatch with whistles around their necks which they use to keep in the kids in order.

Neither of these assumptions or (in the case of one-piece bathing suits) images were any where close to what actually takes place and it all went down hill from the moment he hit the water. After a brief info session from the Lifeguard that started and stopped with the phrase “Only 1 parent in the water with the child at one time. Everyone else must stand behind the fence” (Again I would have liked to have heard something about in case of rain, here’s what we do if somebody begins to drown, or “Hey look! This certificate means I’m a licensed lifeguard and not a teenager simply looking to get a good tan”) we were told we could get our child into the water….little did we know the only things the class would cover is when it’s ok to get in the pool (5:30) and when it’s imperative we leave the pool (6:00). So Fred hits the water with a leap from the edge, into Lucy’s waiting arms, and immediately moves to the top of his class. See again we were under the impression that actual lessons would be given, but were immediately informed by the Guard (more like a security guard at this point and only there in case somebody decides to steal a nerf ball from the Muscle Shoals Park and Rec Department) that he looked awfully big to be 2 and that they normally save jumping in till the last day of the two week class.

So basically we are renting a pool for half an hour for 10 days at a cost of $2.50 per day which in today’s economy is pretty cheap until you realize that we could visit the same pool for free from 1-5 and learn just as much.

The Editor In Chief

Being as this is my 270th post I thought Iwould take a second to talk about my biggest fan and the role she plays in creating Charlie. Of course I am talking about none other than the fabulous Lucy Blockhead. For those of you who don't know we have been joined at the hip since our first date way way back on December 27, 1997. Since then she has brought more joy into my life than I can ever imagine. During that time we've definately had our share of struggles. Like that two week period my arm started swelling and I developed a grapefruit sized knot under my arm. Of course we thought it was cancer, but thankfully it turned out to only be a clogged sweat gland. Then there was the day I just chunked my job of two years without having a clue as to what I would do the next day. This isn't about the hard times though, this is about your's truly Charlie Blockhead.

Charlie really just started out as a way for me to express my fears at becoming a new dad. Two years and some months later it has lead to a pretty good part-time job (this is where I plug the freelance site I'm writing for Petsource) and at least twice a week the adventure continues to move forward.

What you may not know is that eventually I'm going print this entire blog and have it published. All 270 pages in counting will someday be bound, numbered, and given to Fred as a way to know just what made his dear ole dad tick (though it may also make him wonder why his mom stuck around for so long).

Since this is essentially like writing a 270+ letter to your son and such an important task, it's nice to have somebody around to help keep the tone of the posts in check. This is where Lucy comes in. She is the first to tell me when something shouldn't be discussed (like wondering if your child's future will involve a life of crime) and when I've gone too far (I once wrote a post about what I think of those who come forward at church too often, which was immediately deleted). She is my Editor In Chief and on this momentous occasion as I celebrate the big 270 I just wanted to make sure she knows that as with the rest of my life I'd have nothing if I didn't have her first.

Spaces In Between

It's been a while since I got all reflective and posted about something other than the latest adventure, but something about spending time at Granny's always leaves me looking inside and promising to make changes in my life. Then again after spending four straight days in a house full of 15 people, my inner voice may just be dying to be heard.

More and more I find myself yearning for the weekends. I guess I just thought that somewhere along the way the constant sense of amazement that comes with being a father would wear off. It's just the opposite though. The more time I spend with Lucy and Fred the more time I want. In school I'd spend all day daydreaming about the beach, girls, and what I could be doing if I wasn't stuck in a class room. Now 15 years later I spend my works days doing the same thing, except of course the only girl I daydream about is Lucy and what I could be doing is playing golf with Fred.

Except for Broccoli and Nani, I don't get to see the rest of the family much more than a few days a year. During the times we do get together it's like we try to pack a year's worth of family time into 48 hours. We laugh, we cry, we fight. We storm out of rooms declaring it's time to go back home and enter those same rooms moments later praying it never ends. It always does though....

And as is the case today, after all the suitcases have been packed and everyone has called to say they made it home, I'm left wondering what I can do to make those feelings last. Saddly though the answer of course is nothing. It's just that simple.

The truth is that the reason family time is such a powerful force is because it's only given out is small quantities. A weekend by the pool here, a trip to Chucky Cheese there. I'm convinced that if somehow I could cut out everything that required my attention, found a way to live life without worrying about money, food, a roof over our heads, and was able to give 100% of myself to spending time with Lucy, Fred, and the others....I'd take it for granted and never understand what an amazing life I have.

For me it's the spaces in between the 8-5, the time spent working to provide for my family, and the trips to Granny's that makes them so special. It's the spaces in between that keeping me coming back to work every morning. Rain or shine. Monday thru Friday. Daydreaming about beaches, girls named Lucy, and what I could be doing with Fred.

Freddie Meets Wall-E

We've been debating taking Fred to the movies for several months now and we were waiting for just the right one to test out our theory that he could make it all the way through without having to skip the last half. Wall-E came out this past weekend and it's seemed that the timing was right.


We planned the entire day out so that he'd be at his best when the movie started at exactly 4:30. Lucy ran him around the park during a local festival in the morning, I stepped up to the plate and hit a home run with a two hour nap, and then a good lunch made for a really great mood for Fred. So how did it go? Well if you subtract the fact that he stuck his hand in a urinal that hadn't been flushed in God knows how long (I made sure the water was hot for that particular hand washing). Add points for getting there just as the previews were starting. Subtract a point for forgetting that the previews lasted half an hour. And then sorta erase the parts where he shook the crap out of the empty seat in front of us and the fact he/I watched the last 20 mintues (which were about how long the previews lasted) from the entrance ramp. Overall I'd say it was a roaring success!!!


Fred loved the movie, didn't get scared during the Journey To The Center Of The Earth preview (which was an idiotic thing to put in front of a G rated movie to start with! I mean you've got an entire room full of 2-4 year-olds and you decide a scene where T-Rex is trying to eat a kid is ok?), and most of all impressed his parents with his ability to eat half a bag of popcorn. It was such a great success that our next movie just may be this one.

America's Next Top Model

Lucy found this contest hidden in the depths of this month's Parenting magazine. The winner gets flown out to New York for a cover photo shoot. Check out the pics we submitted and click on the "recommend & rate this" lines to show your support. The contest isn't based on total votes, but the support couldn't hurt. Vote here!

Entertained To Death

What with the trip to Memphis, all that was Father's Day weekend, and the new freelance work I've picked up combined with all the regular up's/down's of life....I've been stock piling a pretty good stack of entertainment just in case I ever decide to slow down.

My DVR is packed with such movies as:

• Blades Of Glory
• Disney's The Kid (love Bruce Willis!)
• The 300
• Hot Fuzz
• Ocean's Thirteen
• Batman Vs. Dracula
• The Game Plan
• The Good Year

This is just the movies! Mixed in are episodes of:

• House
• Law & Order: SVU (5 Episodes!)
• The Spectacular Spiderman
• Greensboro (Awesome new show)
• Extreme Home Makeover(100th episode!)
• Plus the usual assortment of kiddy shows like The Wonder Pets, Backyardigans, Max & Ruby, etc...

Then there are the books that I keep picking up and taking home to collect dust:

• Brother Odd (Dean Koontz)
• Freak-O-Nomics
• The Husband (Dean Koontz)
• Peace Like A River
• Boomsday (The story of a blogger who convinces Washington that they can save a ga-billion dollars by giving incentives to Baby Boomers in return for commiting suicide at the age of 75)
• One Mississippi
• The Historian
• Plus an entire bookcase of paperbacks I was given late last year and the Entertainment Weekly I go running to the mailbox for every Friday

All of this and 60 free music downloads that Lucy and I have received recently. For some reason I just can't say no to a good piece of Pop Culture and so at the moment I find myself drowning in a sea fun. Maybe you can help ole faithful reader. If you see something I listed above that totally stinks, drop me a line so I can scratch it off my To-Do-When-There's-Nothing-To-Do-List.

Fathers, Sons, And Daughters

It's hard to imagine a Father's Day weekend packed with much more fun than a night on the town alone with my lady, a round of golf with just us guys, a couple passes around the chinese buffet, an afternoon of lounging, and a light dinner at the local sandwich shop.

Walk'n In Memphis

Finally I'm back. I knew it would take a few days to catch up, but the week turned out harder than I thought. Thanks to all of you who kept asking me where I was and when they could see the pics I promised. Gigi/Steve surprised us Sunday morning and got to go to the zoo with us. Plus little man was the star of the show as we made our way down Beale Street late Saturday afternoon.

Out To Lunch

Taking Fred to the Memphis Zoo this weekend. We are taking 3 days to soak up the sites, sounds, and of course the food. I'll post some pictures late next week once I get back in the groove. In the meantime check out the two new blogs I got hired for last week: www.wrapmailblog.com and www.petsource.org (look under blog called Scribbles N Bits).

The Bald And The Beautiful

This past weekend saw another moment in Blockhead history as I went and had all my hair shaved off. Now some of you may think this is absolutely the dumbest thing I have ever done, but it's nothing compared to why I had to shave it off to start with. You see the reason I no longer have hair is because I decided I wanted a faux hawk. Not a full mohawk mind you, just a tiny faux one. The reasons behind this could be as simple as I'm completely addicted to Top Chef and there's this guy Richard Blast that is rock'n one or they could be as complex as having to do with feeling very old lately and wanting a change of some sort (I'm also on a diet which is an obvious attempt to acquire the flat stomach that time forgot). Unfortunately the hawk only lasted a few hours because I'm cursed with curly hair and the dang thing wouldn't stay straight.

For those of you who can't quite picture me without hair here is the before and after:

Funny how a new haircut can may you look different (or in my case like a woman). As you can guess I got a ton of feedback from friends and coworkers so I thought I may as well list my favorites:

• Do you still like Black People? (From a black person so don't send me hate mail)
• Did you get your hair cut at the same place as the cat?
• Wish I had the balls to do that...on second thought I'm glad I don't.
• What day do you leave for Basic Training?
• Can you move a little to the left, the glare off your head is making it hard to see
• WoW! You are taking this Charlie Brown thing to heart aren't you.
• WHAT DID YOU DO!! (From Lucy and most everyone else)

With all of these attempts at humor at my expense flying overhead, I've had time to craft a witty comeback: "My flux capasitor ran out of Uranium and I barely had to steal some so I could get back to 1802 and save the Doc. The radiation caused my hair to fall out, but lucky for him I was able to time a lightning bolt to hit a clock tower thus sending me back in time." What do you think? I know it needs more work. I gave it a shot but missed it by a......hair.

On Second Thought Let's Just Have Feetsa

"Fred what do you think about having a new baby brother or sister?
"Huh?"
"Do you want a baby sister?"
"Feetsa!!"
"I know you like pizza sweetie, but wouldn't you like a new baby?"
"Ummmm NO!!!"

"But if you were to get a new baby brother or sister you would let it sleep in your room wouldn't you?"
"Ummmmm NO!!!"
"Where would it sleep then?"
"Outside!!!"

There you have it. We tried, but we can't very well have a baby that is only allowed to sleep outside. I guess this means we'll just have to wait....and that we'll probably have feetsa for dinner tonight.

And The Winner Is......

The contest to give our bald kitty Buttons a new nickname ended Monday at midnight and the winner is......Literal Dan....and The J's. See Lucy and I couldn't agree on which nickname was the best so we decided to have two winners. Sorry Dad Stuff, but hey you still came in a close second. My favorite Senor Wrinklebum was given by Dan and I've been using it since the second it was submitted. Lucy on the other hand can't help but laugh every time she thinks of Buttons as Fluffy. So there you have it Senor Wrinklebum and Fluffy.

I'll be contacting both winners this week and we'll get together on what prizes you would like to be sent your way! Thanks for all the great ideas and who knows maybe we'll do this again soon.