Meals on Wheels

Lately we have been eating in the car a lot. It seems that at least once a week Fred falls asleep in the car seat on the way home from somewhere. I’m thinking about adding a fold out picnic table to the back of the station wagon.

Babies hate it when people eat at the same time. Mommy can eat and Daddy can eat, but Mommy and Daddy can’t eat together.
Whenever we plan a meal we always wind up in this fierce negotiation involving what everyone’s role will be.

“If I cook it, will you watch the baby?”
“If I watch the baby do I get to eat first?”
“Ok I’ll cook and you can eat first, but you have to clean up the kitchen.”
“I’ll see your eat first and clean the kitchen and raise you a feed the baby”
“Fine, I’ll cook, you eat first, you clean the kitchen, I’ll feed the baby, then you give him a bath?”
“Bet and then you put him to sleep”

Sometimes he fools us. He will sleep right up until one of us puts the fork in our mouths and then he’s up and ready to play. We are thinking about switching to all plastic eating utensils. It’s like we are eating with tuning forks or something.

If we both do the cooking, then we fall back to who wants to watch what on TV.
“I gotta see Studio 60 tonight, so anything before 8 is mine and after that it’s all you.”

If nothing comes on the tube, it’s all about who had the worst day.
“I should eat first cause I got yelled at by a customer today.”
“So did I. Mine used several words I cannot say if front of Fred”
“Mine too, but I hung up on him”
“Ha I win!!! Mine was in person!!!”

It’s so much easier to just sit in the car instead of waking him up and forfeiting the golden silence. Last weekend he conked out and we drove down to a park along the river. Nothing says romance like chicken nuggets, waffle fries, and the smell of dead fish coming off the riverbank. We almost shared a kiss, but forgot that the sound of a mommy hand holding a daddy hand also makes a noise that only sleeping babies can hear.

A Toast to the Future; A Glance Towards the Past

I don’t know what loneliness is. I mean I know what it is, but I don’t know what it feels like anymore. I am a parent, a husband, a friend, an employee, a coworker, and a member of a local church, part of a blogging community none of these roles leave much time for being by myself. I mention over there à in my “about me” section that I have played several different parts in this lifetime. Nobody stays in the same place forever. You grow up, leave home, get out of college, get married, move a couple of times, have a kid, change jobs…you shake off old clothes and try on new suits every so often.

You leave people behind.

It’s not intentional. You go to work everyday, make great friends, change jobs, and you don’t see the same people anymore. Situations change and people move in different directions.

I left home sometime during the year I turned 19. Nothing major brought this on. It was just time. I was in college, member of a fraternity, there was an open room, yada yada yada, I moved out. I left my mom, brother, and stepfather alone to fight the constant war. I’m not letting some major secret out the bag here. Life at home could be a major hell sometimes. I loved my stepfather, but that love came from distance and the end of being apart of the daily arguments over the insignificants.

“WHO KEEPS GETTING A NEW GLASS EVERYTIME THEY COME IN TO GET A DRINK!?!”

“WHEN YOU SEE ME CUTTING THE GRASSYOU JUMP UP AND GET OUT HERE WITH ME”

“WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS HERE UNDER MY NOSE?”

“THERE YOU GO WEARING THE WHEELS OFF THE CAR AGAIN. WHY CAN’T YOU EVER STAY HOME?”

I still loved my family, they just got misplaced somewhere between class, girls, and skipping class with girls. I never stopped to realize that just because I had left didn’t mean they weren’t still fighting battles. I remember an episode of Growing Pains where Mike is watching Gilligans Island and he suddenly flips off the TV, waits ten seconds, and flips it back on. He is shocked to find out that although the Gilligan is still there, the story progressed regardless of whether he was watching it or not.

The lives of my brother and mother continued long after I left that house. Eventually they moved on as well. My stepfather passed away, my brother moved on and eventually left town, and my mom…my mom was living by herself in a one-bedroom apartment for the first time ever.

I think single life was a shock to her system at first. Something she had always thought of but never experienced. It must have been like waking up in a foreign country where nobody speaks English. You’re not quite sure how you got there, nothing makes sense, and you don’t know if you should be scared or amazed by the new surroundings. My brother was close, so the apartment wasn’t always as empty as it could be. He got a dog. She kept the dog after he finally left town. I know it was hard, but I like to think that those years were also filled with moments of great relief. The kind of relief somebody else might feel after working a hard day and finding dinner already cooked.

After awhile though the lack of conversation and those empty rooms must have been as bad as the marriage that brought her to that place. This is all a guess, because like I said, I had moved on; married the girl of my dreams…I am never lonely. I imagine that the silence became just as loud and infuriating as that man that once stomped through the house bare-chested and full of hot air.

My mother is getting married on Monday. My opinion has kind of been up in the air since I found out. One day for/next day not so for. Then my brother said this “I’m 25, single, and living in a big city. I go to these clubs and let me tell you single life is not easy. I can’t imagine what it’s like at her age.” This is what set my opinion in stone. I had never really tried to imagine her life at all past the point at which I moved out/on. Once I got past the thoughts of “What I wouldn’t give for half an hour of me time”, I couldn’t help but compare how full my life is now with how empty that apartment must be.
So regardless of whether she wants to make a big deal of it or not, I’m praying that it is a major big deal. Life is meant to be led happily ever after.

Bless Thee Yee Purple Prince of Peace

When you first find out that you are about to have a baby, you automatically start evaluating your feelings on what makes up a healthy lifestyle. You begin to comb over your own childhood in hopes of learning what went right and what was a disaster.

Did my parents let me eat too much candy?
Did they push vegetables on me?
Did I spend too much time playing and not enough time learning?

It’s not really an evaluation of you’re mom and dad. Honestly, you know in the end no matter what happened they did the best they could. It’s not as if a handbook pops out between the baby and the placenta. The fact is the new baby is going to need rules and positive habits. And what is the past good for if not for learning from the mistakes/successes of those that came before you.

I watched a ton of TV when I was younger. I mean 10 hours a day up until I got my first car. Even then I would regularly choose to stay home and watch the new episode of the Simpsons, rather go out to some party where I only knew the 4 people I came with. I was a major homebody. I did the partying thing in college like everyone else, but to this day I find it hard to cut the tube off. Just last week I made sure to get the Fall Preview issue of TV guide so I could map out my new TV line up. I literally sat down with the little pull out showing what and when everything is going to be on and planned my evenings. Shows with a W are going to be seen at that time and R’s mean I will be recording those shows in the bedroom. How crazy is that? Not crazy enough? Ok how about this…I will even record the shows with a W just in case something comes up and I miss 5 minutes in the middle of what I’m watching.

So when we found out Fred was on his way, I said “He will not be like me. He will not be a slave to the tube!!!”

Now as we are quickly approaching his 6mth birthday, I find myself struggling with this more and more. I mean for crying out loud the little guy loves Barney. I mean he LOVES BARNEY. Mouth open, no blinking, passey falling out of the mouth, forgets to breath loves Barney. So we borrowed a couple of videos from a friend…and now anytime we need 15-30 minutes of baby free time so dishes can be washed or dinner can be ate… we just hit play on the VCR and the Church of the Blessed Purple Dinosaur magically silences the entire house.

We are starting to feel guilty about this, but it’s like finding a way to add 2 more hours to the middle of the day. In those 30 minutes while the baby hears about “banonos and upples” we get enough done to free up entire weekends. How can something that feels so good be so wrong?

We Got the Beat. We-Got-The-Beat!!! YEAH!!!

So it was about a 6-hour drive back from the beach and Fred was amazing.
He slept, he played, he ate, he drank, he laughed…but he did not cry.
That’s right!!! 450 miles, 2 stops, and no tears. Un-freak’n-believable.
We got 15 miles from home and just knew we had it made. Nothing could stop us now!!!

But maybe someone could.

A full days worth of tears combined with the pain of being strapped into a car seat all day forged a tantrum we are seldom witness to. Chief Redface had returned.

So what do you do? You’ve been away from home for four days. You’re tired, irritable, the legs need stretching, you gotta go to the bathroom…but that sign says Muscle Shoals 15 miles. Normally that’s an easy answer. You man-up and push forward, ignore the pain, pee in a bottle, and get home!!

Babies don’t know how to man-up. They just throw tantrums.

Redface almost got us this time. We were in the car and far away from our tried and true happy baby tools. We were at our weakest moment, all was thought lost. Lucy was begging me to pull over even though we were only 10 minutes from home…when a flash of brilliance crossed my mind. In an instant I saw Baby Fred bouncing at home in his exersaucer, he’s been there too long and is starting to cry just a little. There is a Barney video playing in the background and out of desperation, I began to clap to the beat. Baby Fred calmed down.

Over the noise of the road/crying/Rascal Flats, I scream “CLAPPPPPPP!!! CLAP WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT!!!”

Lucy, who at this point would have probably made armpit farts if it would have worked, starts banging her hands together with all her might. It worked at first, but it just wasn’t enough. In a show of expert driving ability, at 65mph I adjusted myself so my left knee could steer and began clapping/singing “WE WILL, WE WILL, ROCK YOU! ROCK YOU!!!” “WE WILL, WE WILL, ROCK YOU! ROCK YOU!!!”

And the crying ceased. We stopped clapping and the crying started again. We were now forced to play Redface’s wicked game.

As we drove the final few miles home, we felt the stares from the people in the other cars as they drove by the maniacs clapping as if their lives depended on it. I can almost hear them say “Hey that guy is driving with his knee!!!! Drive past!!! Drive past!!!”

We were bruised, battered, and our hands hurt for the next three days, but we made it home and that’s all that counts.
Until we meet again Mr. Redface...until we meet again.

The Day the World Cried

Labor Daze(Part 3)

Fred is doing better today. We all had a good nights sleep last night, so that has helped a bunch. The breathing treatments are working but the baby hates taking them.
I need to apologize to the Granny. Apparently it is ok to talk about her wearing a wig on the internet, but not ok to let her find out that her great-grandbaby is sick by reading it in a blog.
Just another reason I'm a blockhead I guess.

Ok then, one more round of pictures and I promise to start writing new stuff. Oh and check out my new site www.blockheadnation.blogspot.com.

On with the show:

Fred caught a shark

I caught some rays.

And we all got crabs from Bubba's

We skipped walking and went straight to teaching him how to dance.

The perfect end to a perfect vacation.

Labor Daze(Part 2)

So the baby is still sick, but the good news is that they decided not to admit him to the hospital. Apparently he was borderline RSV. The Dr. ok'd him to come home as long as he took breathing treatments every 3-4 hours for the next few days.

So this is the 2nd group of pictures from our trip to Granny's and then on to the beach.
Hope you enjoy.
Charlie,

Fred thought this guy's name was "Stay in or Stay out" because every time a door was opened it's what he heard. Latter on I told him this was his great-grandpa and he better be nice because he keeps his will next to the recliner and is just itching to scratch somebody's name off the list.

"I'm gonna see this on the internet someday, aren't I dad?"

Skylar is trying to convince Fred that the beach is no fun and they should switch families for the weekend. I think she almost had him convinced.

My favorite people in the world at my favorite place in the world.

Labor Daze(Part 1)

We went back to my grandmother’s house for the holiday and cruised down to the beach afterward. All the travel made the baby's cough worse. Since I'm short on time, I thought now would be the perfect time to share some pictures from this trip.
Enjoy,
Charlie

This is Fred calling in a pizza the night before the big trip.

He's asking me if we want mushrooms or extra cheese.

Fred just realized that you actually do have to go over the river and through the woods to get to grandma's house.

This map will self-destruct in 10 seconds!

Fred remembered his hat, but Granny forgot her wig.

The Old Apartment

We used to live in an old house that was split into 3 apartments. It was only a 10minute jog from class (5 minutes if you’re naked). Our part was in the back and then up/over the living rooms of both places in the front. This meant that the bedroom was half over apartment A and half over apartment B. Guy A had a pit bull the size of Cujo and insisted on throwing a party every night. Guy B was practically homeless and most of his furniture came from the side of the road (he took our couch and grill when we left). The living room was nice enough, but the stairs to the loft shot straight up like a ladder. The hot water was always out; the water heater was under the house in a basement. To get to it you had to go outside, crawl through this door about as wide as a computer screen, drop down 6 feet, find the bulb hanging in the center of the room (that’s right you don’t get light until you crawl through the trap door and plunge blindly into hell), then ignite the pilot light. I almost did this once, but I kept seeing that girl stuck in bottom of the well from Silence of the Lambs.

The air conditioning was never enough and the heat upstairs would turn candles into puddles within hours. I first moved in and lived there about three months before Lucy joined me. My previous residence was a closet in the fraternity house, so I didn’t really go upstairs until she insisted that the bed didn’t belong in the living room. It wasn’t even a bed really. Just an old mattress my parents had. It was so thin it may have well been a couple of blankets lying on top of each other.

I’ll never forget that first night we spent up there in that tiny room with the A-framed ceiling and 100 degree heat. I know what you’re thinking, yes we were young and in love, and with that came all the rewards…but that’s not what made this night so special. As we lay there in our new home, we talked about our new life together and made the plans that new couples make. I reached over and turned the lights off…and the image is still there even today…apparently the previous tenant was a little more creative then myself and took the time to place tiny little stickers all over the ceiling. As I turned the black dial on that old lamp next to the bed, the universe opened up before my eyes. It was if the lamp held a switch that opened a dome over the apartment. No longer were we being abused by the heat and lack of space…we were outside staring up into the cosmos watching comets and shooting stars zip by. I know it’s not possible, but now when I think about it I see the two of us covered by the glow from a million stars. I know those stickers are cheap and can be bought anywhere, to us though they were more than paper and glue…they were maps to a brighter future together.

That map we saw back then has been good to us, and now with Fred along for the ride I don’t see how it can get much better…but every now and then after I put the baby down for the night and kiss Lucy, I reach over to the lamp by the bed and still see the same stars shining over us.

I wonder if those stickers are still there.

Broke into the old apartment
This is where we used to live
Broken glass, broke and hungry,
Broken hearts and broken bones
This is where we used to live
Why did you paint the walls?
Why did you clean the floor?
Why did you plaster over
The hole I punched in the door?
This is where we used to live
Why did you keep the mousetrap?
Why did you keep the dish rack?
These things used to be mine
I guess they still are, I want em back
Broke into the old apartment
Forty-two stairs from the street
Crooked landing, crooked landlord
Narrow laneway filled with crooks
This is where we used to live
Why did they pave the lawn?
Why did they change the lock?
Why did I have to break in?
I only came here to talk
But this is where we used to live
How is the neighbor downstairs?
How is her temper this year?
I turned up your TV
And stomped on the floor just for fun
I know we don’t live here anymore
We bought an old house on the Danforth
She loves me and her body keeps me warm
I am happy here
This is where we used to live
Broke into the old apartment
Tore the phone out of the wall
Only memories, fading memories
Blending into dull tableaux
I want them back
I want them back
But this is where we used to live
I want them back
This is where we used to live
I want them back
But this is where we used to live
I want them back
By the Barenaked Ladies

I Might Be Indecisive

I just can’t seem to make up my mind about anything anymore.

Do I want pizza or tacos?
Pizza!!…Tacos!!!…Spaghetti?

With every decision I find myself more and more unsure of what I want.

Should I wear the green shirt with the grey shoes or the brown shirt with the brown shoes?
Should I wear socks?
If I’m not going to wear socks then I need the brown shoes cause they feel better.
The green shirt fits better though.

Would my sneakers go with this?

Socks?

I’ve had to make some pretty hard choices lately. Some I have blogged about. Others ***cough****cough***put the cats outside***cough I haven’t.

Maybe I’m experiencing some type of responsibility withdrawal.

Everywhere I look there is something that needs to be figured out.

Are we going to drive the four hours to the grandparents this weekend?

Yes, they need to see their grandbaby.

No, It’s the first weekend of football season.

Yes, the guilt will ruin any game I plan on watching anyway.

Do we leave at 2 AM? 6 AM? Should we leave on Friday night?

I wish somebody would do all of this thinking for me. At least I think that’s what I want.

The Book of Luke

Being a dad is one of the most challenging things a man can do in life. Being a dad requires something more. Whatever this “something more” is, it has nothing to do with DNA and everything to do with the intangible parts of life. I’m sad to say that most men just don’t seem to have it anymore. Maybe I watch the news too much and I’m not allowing myself to get a fair view of the world. It just appears that more and more I have to search for examples of good dads in action. Didn’t it used to be the other way around? I remember growing up and watching classic shows like “Father Knows Best” and “The Courtship of Eddie's Father”. Those were great dads in action!! I still stop every so often and catch “Leave it Beaver” or “The Andy Griffin Show”. Why do we have to look for the Cliff Huxtables and Steven Keatons? Why aren’t they in plain site? If art imitates life, then maybe there are more Al Bundys and Homer Simpsons than we care to admit. Sure every example I have used thus far has come from TV, but these characters aren’t just entertaining because they are quick with a one liner and have horrible luck. A portion of the fun had by watching these TV dads, comes from having known people that share the same traits and behaviors. These dads are out there! The difference is the networks are only allowed to show so much and would never be able to air the true horrors that some of todays fathers are getting away with Being a dad…being a good dad is a never-ending task. Class begins the day the little guy is born and the semester lasts the rest of your life. Being a dad is hard work!!! The wife, the bills, work, moving up the corporate ladder, planning a future, helping around the house, yard work, keeping up with the cars, maintaining law and order, budgeting, watching the kids,being a moral compass, family time, alone time, time with the wife, time with friends, caring for pets, keeping track of people outside of the immediate family, grandparents are getting older, gas is getting higher, and your stomach is getting larger…these are just tiny examples of what a dad faces everyday. Thank God for Moms, cause there is no way all of this was meant to be done by one person. With this being said, I want to introduce my cousin Luke. Luke is in his early twenties and has recently done something that needs to be screamed from the rooftops and wrote about in newspapers. Luke became a dad by choice and not by circumstance. When most men find out that the cute girl with the great smile has a brand new baby at home, they run so fast you would swear a DeLorean just hit 80mph. Luke just loved her that much more. Lucy and I have been together almost ten years and it took nine decide to have Fred. Don’t get me wrong. I wanted to be a dad; I just needed to ease my way into it. Not Luke. He just jumped in with both feet and promised to never jump out. He works a full time job, goes to school full time, cuts his grandparents yard every other week, takes his family to church every time the doors are open, and the whole time he’s talking about his wife and son. Growing up, I never spent much time with Luke. I’m about 8 years older and more self-centered than I care to admit. He was always the goofy little cousin that we never knew what to buy for Christmas. I remember him as this lanky, quiet teenager that never made that big of an impression on me. I didn’t like or dislike him, I never bothered to get to know him. I don’t see him this way any longer.... Though he’s still tall, it’s because he is standing proud. He may come off as quiet, but his actions speak louder than anything he could ever say. He’s somebody I’m proud to be related to. Somebody I’m thankful to know exists. An example not only to me, but also to every child, teenager, father, brother, grandparent, stranger he comes into contact with. He’s a good dad!!!! As for what to get him for Christmas…it seems to me that he’s got all he could ever dream of and he deserves every bit of it.

Boys Will Be Boys

When you have a son, it’s just a given that certain things are going to happen that you wouldn’t necessarily have to worry about with a girl. For example, someday we are all going to be at the park (please dear God let it be the park and not a wedding reception) and Fred will have to go to the bathroom. Instead of looking for a restroom he’s just going to pull his pants down and let his freak flag fly. If we had a girl, this would never happen…and if it did then there are more than just bathroom habits that need fixing. Girls just don’t pee in public.

Want another example? Without a doubt there will come a time when Lucy is doing the laundry and she will pick up Fred’s underwear only to find a skid mark so long you would think he had tried to avoid hitting a deer. Not going to happen with a girl. Girls are candy and butterflies. Boys are mud and frogs. Girls use napkins and toilet paper. Boys use their clothes or just plain forget why they are sitting there and run off to play.

Finally, if I had a girl I wouldn’t have to worry about flying peepee. Sure you pick any baby up without a diaper and you run the risk of getting wet. With boys though, once the pants come down anything within a five-foot radius runs the risk of getting hosed. The funny thing is that sometimes the accuracy of the stream is so exact that you would swear there was some form of aim and calculation of trajectory involved. Case in point, Lucy was bending over to turn on the bath water. I was holding Fred away from me (so I wouldn’t get hit twice) and at exactly the right moment, as the angles lined up and the currents shifted just enough…he turned on the hose. The stream hit dead center in the middle of Lucy’s ear. Not the lobe. Not the back of the ear. Right into the eardrum it went. Proving once again that there are some things that boys do that you just don’t have to worry about with girls.

The Long Way Home

This morning after church we did something a little different. We had the privilege of seeing two baptisms and were on our way back from paying a quick visit to Pops. It had really been a great Sunday so far. There were some clouds on the horizon threatening a much-needed rain and hopefully a cool down. Fred and Lucy have been down with allergies the last few days so the prospect of clean air and that wonderful smell of freshness were just too good to pass up. We took the long way home.

Just like most small towns there are a million ways to get everywhere and everybody thinks their way is the quickest. It’s a rarity when you find yourself searching for the longest way to get home. So we chose the longest, most backwoods, far away path we could and headed straight into a thunderstorm. The kind of rain that would normally make us pull over, found us practically crusing along at 20mph with the windows cracked.

This got me thinking about all the other times we have taken the long way home.

Lucy and I met at a grocery store some five odd years before we ever went on our first date. The GiGi says she knew right away that were going to be married someday, but it was long time before that first trip to the movies together.

Though we got engaged eight months after our first date, the wedding didn’t happen for another four years. Filled with Christmas trees and white lights strung up every where, it was as if we had decided to get married in something out of a Disney movie. Except this time around Snow White decided to marry Dopey.

I may have mentioned before my grandfather is a preacher for the Church of Christ. The past 52 years he has been spreading the teachings of Jesus Christ all over the world. It took me 28 years to get baptized. It was one to the best days of my life, but some thought it would never happen.

The second you get married you are asked, “When are you having a baby?” It may as well be part of the vows “Do you Charlie promise to love, cherish, and obey? Do promise to be with her always through good times and bad? Do you swear to give your parents that grandchild they have been asking for every week for the past four and half years?”
At some point the question became one of desperation, “Are you going to a have a baby?” This year we finally answered the question only to be asked, “When is the next one going to be here?”

Life gets faster every day. Long gone are the weekends when just the two of us rented 10 movies and only got up to use the bathroom/grab a coke on the way back. It seems we are gone every night now visiting with family, showing off the baby. Nowadays we are lucky to be able to share a meal at the same time. If it’s one we cooked ourselves, then … well baby must have gone to bed early or we are eating really late. Then something unexpected happens. You find yourself with an afternoon that hasn’t been planned out to the second and those thunder claps begin to take on a different tone. What normally would be sounds of violence and natures fury, become invitations to witness the cleansing of the world around you. As we drove through that storm this afternoon, while others were desperately trying to escape the wind and rain…we just slowed down and enjoyed the ride. Like we’ve been doing for the past ten years…

Six Degrees of John Mark Karr

John Mark Karr is his name. It meant nothing to me on Tuesday, but 24 hours later I find myself scanning my memory banks searching for the face that now seems very familiar. I have no direct thought of ever meeting him, but much like that cold going around the office; if you hear about it enough, you begin to feel the sniffles coming on. If somebody asked me straight out “Have you ever met or heard of John Mark Karr?” I’d have to say “not that I know of”. That being said, we did go to the University of North Alabama at the same time…so maybe the better answer should be “No I have no memory of meeting John Mark Karr. However, is it possible I have met him before? Yes it’s very likely”

Everybody remembers the game Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. The game is based on the theory that everything can be traced back to Kevin Bacon in six progressions or less. For example: Everwood was a mildly successful show on the WB. Scott Wolf had a small part in Everwood. Scott Wolf was on Party of Five. He stared with Neive Campbell. Neive Campbell was in Wild Things…along with Kevin Bacon. That’s four steps to Kevin Bacon!! Anyway the point is I could very well be connected to John Mark Karr through 10 steps…or maybe 6…maybe 3.

I spent half my college career in the student center. Who’s to say that I didn’t walk past him on my way for coffee? Maybe I got up to go to class (it happened) and he was the next person to sit in my seat. Isn’t it possible that he once sat on the right side of the class and I sat on the left? We all know those classes are huge, he could have sat 3 rows over and I wouldn’t remember. After all, I was in a fraternity and killing brain cells by the thousands back then. How about this; I ate a salad. I ate the salad with a fork. The fork got sent the kitchen to be washed. The fork was cleaned and placed back in the bucket next to the plates. John Mark Karr had a taste for salad that day. That’s five steps!

It could have happened a million other ways, but let’s make things just a little more interesting. My grandfather was a missionary. He spent most of his time teaching the Bible in Bangkok, Thailand. He traveled the city on a regular basis. After over ten years of missionary work, he probably got around the country pretty good. I know he speaks the language fluently. Sure it’s been a while since he’s been there, but if we knew where to look I bet we could connect the dots right back to Mr. Karr. It might take 100 steps…it could be 4.

I know I will never be certain as to whether our paths have crossed, but I am positive of one thing…this world is not as big as it once was. More and more people are bumping into each other; every second new connections are being made. What scares me about John Mark Karr is that what if my connection wasn’t through 10 steps or 6, what if it’s only 1 step?

With Great Power…

Life for me started out in a trailer park just south of the Tennessee state line. I guess if a person had to rank such things, they’d say that this particular trailer park was on the low end of the spectrum in terms of elegance. My parents had just turned twenty and life left a lot to be desired. Both being from strong Christian backgrounds, they made sure I was introduced to the right and wrongs of life very early on. After all, a trailer park isn’t always home to the best specimens of life. The thing is I was always safe. As my world grew and situations changed, my family always made sure my brother and I were taken care of. Through the divorce, the years of being a family of three, the introduction of a new “dad”…we never missed a meal, never did anything worse than throw rocks at one another, we never had to worry about the hard choices in life.
Once I turned sixteen I began working as soon as I could. I knew every inch of that grocery store and had no clue where all my money went. Mom was still there backing me up, making sure those values stayed in place. There were some hard choices. Sometimes I didn’t always do or say the right thing. To this day I’m still a huge jerk when I want to be. The choices I made, to a certain degree, only affected me.
In college if I had chosen to do drugs, which I didn’t, the life of my parents would not have changed much. Sure they would have been upset, but it would have been my body that ingested the toxic fumes or my life that I risked ruining due to addiction. If I chose to drink, which I did, my parents would have survived had I become an alcoholic or mistakenly did something stupid while in a drunken rage.
Once I got married and took on the role of husband, hard choices were around every corner. Luckily for me I didn’t marry a stupid lady. If for some reason I quit my job and decided to follow Cold Play around the country, she would be able to make it on her own. Of course she would be devastated, but as my better half she’s stronger than I every thought about being. It might take some time, but ultimately I would be the one that would suffer the majority of the consequences.
This all ends at the exact moment the sperm meets the egg. The wife cares for the child inside her, arms and legs are created, the cutest button nose you will ever see is put perfectly on that angelic face, and as soon as he emerges…the doctor literally places is life in your hands. No longer will the wrong choices affect you and maybe indirectly somebody else. The days of doing what feels good no matter what kinda of hot water you’ll be in the next day are over. The hard choices become harder and an entire life…75+ years of somebody’s future may hang on doing the right or the wrong thing.
You start leaning on those values you learned in that trailer park a million years before. You begin to understand that the only the worse than doing the wrong thing is know the difference and not caring. Once my son was born I started this blog and I started hardening my opinions on things I had become too neutral about. I realized that if something goes against your beliefs and you let it slide…then you may as well not even have any beliefs. How effective is a God that you pray too when you need something but ignore when you feel like you know best?
We have decided to change churches…as new parents, mommy and daddy take their roles very seriously and with that comes the need to instill those same values that were taught to us by our Christian families. The need to “do as I say and as I do” is very strong. The hard choices never get easier but once made they sometimes seem less important. If we say there are mistakes being made, rules being ignored, consequences not being felt, and all the while we continue to worship in the same place…what does that say to Fred about the way he should live his life. Who respects those that know the rules, but ignore them for they the sake of peace and false tranquility…nobody that’s who.

Ode to a Carseat Carrier

Oh sweet detachable car seat carrier how I have loved thee.
With your large handle and little red release buttons.
You were always there to help get baby in and out and from room to room.
You were a part-time swing, a part-time cradle, and full time companion.

Now my dear tag along friend, it’s time to say goodbye.
Baby has gotten to big for you and needs a big kid car seat.
How I will miss being able to pop you out of your base allowing
baby to remain asleep as we walked from place to place.

While the future will be full of high chairs and strollers,
I will always remember our past together and how easy you made my life.
Every time I have to wake Fred just to get out of the car, I will long for those days of the quick release lever and your portable comfort ability.

Into the attic you now shall go, but you never know…another baby you may someday tote.

So Much for Paradise

Somebody called in sick and I had to work 2 jobs today.
Fred cried all night.
Nobody got any sleep.
I chose a shirt that fit good standing but was reeeallly tight sitting down.
I did not know this until I sat down at my desk.
The cat threw up before breakfast.
The cat threw up after breakfast.
My ankle was killing me all day
The cat got sick before lunch.
The cat got sick after lunch.
The car almost ran out of gas.
The cat was asleep on the kitchen counter.
The cat was asleep on the entertainment center.
The daycare called and sent Fred home 1 hour before we were gonna pick him up anyway.
We had to get the Dr.’s office to send an authorization so the daycare could give Fred medicine.
Everybody says the baby is cutting a tooth but the doctor.
The house didn’t get cleaned like we planned.
The chicken we laid out didn’t get cooked.
The sleep we were to catch up on didn’t get caught up on.
The cat got sick on the couch.
The trash leaked all the way through the house and out the door cause somebody didn’t empty his Taco Bell cup first.
Somebody couldn’t find the file of coupons for the baby’s medicine but did find a coupon for a pack of diapers and thought that is what his wife meant.
That is not what she meant.
The baby slept just long enough for us to clean the kitchen and place our nice warm take-out food about 6 inches from our mouths, then decided sleep was for losers.
The baby is again sleeping in our bed cause nobody knows what’s wrong but everybody agrees that it is the only way anybody is going to get any rest.

Yesterday I wrote about the perfect weekend and how several things that are good separately, when combined made for the most awesome weekend ever. Well…it works the other way too.

Popcorn, Sunsets, and a Guy Named Jeffery

When you’re a parent everyday seems to be filled with little moments that make the rest of the time you spend slaving away at the office worth living. Weather it’s the giggles you get while changing his diaper or how he insists on throwing his two cents into every conversation even though he can only seem to get out a bunch of squeaks and coos. There are always those nuggets of magic tucked away between the miles of paper work or the loads of laundry piled up all over the house.

Though these moments are great and will always be cherished…occasionally God decides to give you a glimpse of paradise. You’re going along living you’re life, happy to be in a loving family with a good job and great friends. Sure the price of gas is killing you and you’ve forgotten to roll the trash to the curb so often that you have to use a wheel barrel now. Your boss acts like your best friend until it’s time for a raise. It’s that time of the year where if you cut the grass every week it dies but if you wait two it’s too thick for your push mower. Then suddenly as if you have been living in a tunnel with only the light of the coming weekend to guide you, circumstances change and your moment of joy…goes into overtime.

For the first time in a year Lucy and I went to a movie baby free!!! Gigi offered to baby sit last week but a lot can happen between a Monday and a Friday. It’s been two days now and I’m still savoring the flavor of the large popcorn I engulfed. I still have a headache from laughing my butt off. I’m still thanking the Gigi for allowing me to see my wife through the eyes of a newlywed again. Fred and Gigi spent his first evening alone laughing it up and playing with cups of applesauce. Lucy and Charlie spent the evening holding hands and not a baby.

Skip ahead to late Saturday. The Blockhead family took it easy for a change. Not wanting to disrupt the relaxed vibe circulating around the house. A drive for some fast food turned into the perfect sunset over a river so still you would swear you could ice skate across it. What had been another day in the upper 90’s miraculously become a breezy night in the upper 70’s. The park was empty except for the three of us. The sky was on fire with pink and gold. As Fred’s first sunset crept towards the horizon, it just as slowly burned the image into our hearts.

Then there was Jeffery. Normally I would give him some alias such as Tom or Mike, but the story just wouldn’t sound right if I didn’t use his real name. Like any other part of life, you experience your ebbs and flows. Work is just ok and then the next week work is fantastic. Church sometimes becomes routine and then it blooms into the thing you’ve been missing most in this world. Man you should have heard Jeffery up there singing on Sunday morning. I’ve recently just re-met Jeffery. I worked at a grocery store some ten years ago and he was just another vendor. Lately we have been going to the same church and this week he lead the singing. Jeffery walked up there, opened that songbook we’d been using for the last hundred years, and made me forget there’s no dancing in the Church of Christ

Yep just when you expect it the least and need it the most, God opens a window to paradise.

Celebrity Blogger of the Week

This has been one heck of week so far. It just seems there’s something going on every minute of the day. The air is out at the daycare so Lucy and I are taking turns keeping little man. We have been gone every night this week. The baby is still getting used to his bed…so all this means I’ve got zero time to post anything. I thought this would be the perfect time to spotlight one the guys that inspired me to start my own blog.

Dad-VS-Dad is a must read. Authored by John, this dad adores his kids, worships his wife, and carries around pictures of his yard in his wallet. His blog is always one of the top three places I hit every day and is a must read for anyone looking for a good laugh.

So check him out and prepare to get hooked like I did.

The Shove

It’s now been 11 days since we started trying to get Fred to sleep in his own bed and I think he has had enough. The first few days he screamed his head off for what felt like forever. Things seemed to be getting better every night; with the last few only taking him ten to fifteen minutes to pass out. As long as we have him in bed by 9:00, we can count on him not waking up till about 5:00 or 6:00 the next morning. When he does wake up, it’s for a quick bite and then lights out again. Usually if it’s somewhere around 5:00, I’ll just put him in the bed with us. After all, he needs to be rewarded for being a big boy and he sure loves to sleep next to Momma…maybe a little too much.

Something happened last night that makes me think he’s been lying in his crib formulating a plot. Sure it may have appeared like he was sleeping, but in reality his trusty sidekick Pooh has been helping him concoct a dubious ploy to get me out of the picture.

We went out to dinner with Pops last night and were kind of late getting back. This meant instead of getting him ready for bed at 8:00, we were way off and didn’t put him down till 10:00. Little did I know that this was the exact break Fred had been waiting on. Right off the bat he cried at 10:30, pretending to still be fighting another in his room alone. He awoke again at 11:30 wanting a bottle. He just lay there looking so adorable in his sleeper with the footies and the airplanes flying all over it. A couple of coos and we were like mashed pears in his tiny little hands.

He began crying at 4:00 a.m.. He was hungry, his schedule had been thrown off, he had not ate much before bed, it all made sense. He sucked the bottle down like it was compressed air and fell asleep before I even made it back to the bedroom. As I lay him down next to Lucy…so peaceful…he gently placed a hand on her check…I thought “Wow I’ve still got an hour and a half before the alarm goes off.”

I said goodnight, grabbed the blanket, and turned over so that my back was to him. Instantly like a sniper waiting on a rooftop next door, he shot an arm out knocking me off the bed. All his hard work making sure I was exhausted from being up and down though out the night. The planning, the scheming, it all came down to that one second when I was most vulnerable.

As I lay there face first on the hard wood floor, I thought that maybe I had somehow done this to myself. I rose up, peered over the side of the bed and what I saw finally put the whole night into full view....Fred with a huge smile on his face and fast asleep next to his mommy.

A Brand New Charlie

As you can tell, I've been playing around with the format this week instead of posting. I've got a couple of stories all ready to publish, I've just got to make a few last minute edits.

I want to give a special thanks to Genuine Dad for all his help with the new format.
While I'm at it I need to give a shout out to Poop-and-Boogies and Dad-Vs-Dad. Along with Genuine, your blogs really are a great resource for new dads and I hope I'm half the blogger/father you are.

In the future I hope to have a few more choices on the sidebar. I'm thinking about starting a book of the month section that would list what book I just read and link to a brief summary of it. I'm also gonna increase the size of "Bunch of Blockheads" and gets some advertising on the site.

Oh and due to all the changes, I somehow lost my site meter. I'm working on getting that back up and going. Hopefully this will be done by the end of the weekend. Until then drop me a comment and let me know what you think of the new look.

Charlie

Say A Little Prayer

Last night the life of a close friend took a nightmarish turn. Adam is one of the kindest, most sincere people you will ever meet. He has always lived a life guided by the teachings of God and has turned into the kind of man that others look at when searching for a Christian role model. Recently Adam married a girl, which according to Lucy, must have been created especially for him. His perfect match. What should have been a year filled with love, laughter, and the glory that comes from starting a new life as husband and wife, has turned into something nobody should ever have to go through.

Adam’s wife, Amy, was abducted yesterday in Birmingham. She was visiting her sister and leaving her apartment. The man forced her at gunpoint into her car. They came upon an intersection and he asked her how to get to a remote wooded location. She had the presence of mind to tell him to go left; he had to turn to go this way. When he turned his head to look, she jumped out of the car. As she was running away from the vehicle, he shot her. She has lost a kidney and her spleen. Lucy called the bank where Adam is working now in and got an update this morning. She is on a ventilator and is in intensive care; they are worried that infection may set in. They are keeping her in intensive care for at least 2 - 3 days. She is at UAB hospital.

Please, even if you’re not a religious person by practice…please pray for our friend. God listens to prayers. If he can hear my prayer, and your prayer…imagine the sound that a thousand prayers will make. He may not always give us what we ask for, but that is simply because we do not always know what is best. What he will do is cover Amy with his love and help like only he can.

Baby Fred’s 4-Month Update

This has been the quickest year of my life so far. It’s like I’m scared to go to bed at night because I know that the next morning Fred will already be a year old. The little guy is changing more and more by the day, so I figured I better do an update now before the list gets too long.


The biggest change is the noise level in the house has dramatically increased. I’m not talking about crying, he just likes to hear himself talk. I wonder where he gets that?
He just sits there and belts out these high pitch noises. The daycare thought he was in pain. They put him in an excersaucer and turned to take care of another baby, all of sudden he just starts hollering for all he’s worth. You know what he did when the girl came running back to check on him?? He laughed at her! Yep, we’ve got a wild one on our hands!

Fred now refuses to lie down. No crib, no cradle, no couch…unless he can sit upright, he’s not going to be apart of it. Put him in the jumper, the excersaucer, the boppy, the backpack, just don’t put him down. Although he can’t sit up by himself yet, the first chance he gets to pull himself into a sitting position he takes.

Baby had his first cold this month. We had been trying to get him to sleep in his own bed for a couple of days, when a cough started popping up every once in a while. The next day our air conditioner went out and it got up to about 85 inside and 102 outside. The cough got worse. By Sunday morning it was so bad it was waking him up during his naps. Luckily, our doctor will see patients on Sundays so we decide we better go before it turned into something worse. After some tests and a chest X-ray, it was only a bad cold. The one thing we did learn though was that the saddest place in the whole world is a doctor’s waiting room on a Sunday afternoon. You could see the worn faces of the other parents as they thought about how this was they’re day off and Monday morning was just 15 hours away.

We have added two new weapons to our arsenal, the excersaucer and the jumper. Fred loves both, plus these handy dandy tools let mommy and daddy eat an entire meal at the same time without having to hold a baby. Our living room now looks like a baby Gold’s Gym.

Up until last week, thanks to Lucy, Fred had only tasted breast milk. Well, this week we started introducing “real food”. Applesauce has been a hit so far, after the second bite he grabbed the spoon and was feeding himself. The bananas are going to take some getting used to, but I can’t stand them either so they may never be his favorite. The funniest thing is the juice. It’s like he’s Mr. Short Term Memory. He sees the bottle, grabs it, take a swig, realizes it’s not milk, spits it out, sees the bottle, grabs it, takes a swig, spits it out, sees the bottle…

So I think that about covers it. Once upon a time he was just a baby that cried and pooped all day. Now he’s a loud, crib sleeping, cold fighting, excersaucer’n, applesauce eat’n, banana hate’n, blessing to the Blockhead family.

I forget what life was like before.

Fred Writes Blog

Daddy said he's had a rough week and asked that I write this weeks blog. I tried to tell him I can't talk or write, but he said I could use pictures. Hope you like.

This is my aunt Lafonda. She is trying to tell people how much she can't stand babies. Notice how she is tickling my ear? I think somebody is a lie teller.

This is a picture of my two dads. They walk alike, they talk alike, what a crazy pair. Grampa cracks me up. Just one look at his face and I almost busted a rib laughing so hard.

I think daddy just pee'd in the pool!

My kitty is soooo strong instead of mice, she catches cars.

All this hard work has worn me out. Daddy is such a slave drive. Finally Super Mommy swooped in an saved the day.

An Itawamba Adventure

The funny thing about life is that you really just don’t know where you may end up from one day to the next.

Sure you can make a good guess that since you’ve had the same job for the past 4 years, excluding the odd vacation day, chances are you’ll be at your desk come 8:00 a.m. Monday. For those of us who are control freaks and must have everything happen at a specific moment in the day and not just “whenever” or “sometime”, we try our best to plan life out to the minute. It’s funny that we are the most shocked when all this planning just doesn’t come out the way we want it.

It could be that we set the alarm in the dark, and since it’s kinda new, it goes off at the wrong time. I’m always caught off guard when the baby spits up on me as I’m walking out the door.

My point is, you never really know what is around the next corner or where it will take you. This weekend it took us to Itawamba, Miss. Specifically to a no named fish restaurant, some 2 hours from our house and the rest of civilization.

Lucy’s dad, Pops, has a girlfriend, KK, and she was giving a surprise birthday party for her mom. Pops thought this would be the perfect time to show off baby Fred. So, being a sucker for a free meal and somebody who owes a lot to his father in law, we signed up for the road trip. Pops in his ultra cool 2006 Corvette and us in tow in the what-a-wagon (a 2003 Ford Focus wagon; what a wagon!)

The last time we left town on a road trip, we forgot food for the baby…this time we forgot diapers. With Tuscaloosa still fresh on our minds (see “HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION”), we panicked. We couldn’t turn around, because that would mean we’d be later than we already were. The question was could we really chance having only one diaper? Finally we decided that since we had to stop and pick up the birthday girl on the way, we’d just confess our sins and run out to buy a new pack before we headed to the restaurant. We stuck with this plan and sure enough, we were able to break away without much time being wasted.

The surprise party was pretty uneventful. Dinner was great, the birthday girl had a good time, and of course Fred stole the show.

However I did learn a few things on the way:


Whenever you are going to a birthday party being thrown by your father-in-law, do not tell him that the no-named restaurant he picked looks like it has a stripper pole and a stage covered in chicken wire inside. Nobody but you will think this funny.

The Itawamba Times is the only newspaper in the world that cares anything at all about Itawamba County. I know this because they list this fact underneath their name on the front page of the paper.

There are wild dogs roaming the back woods of Mississippi and although they are in plain site, people refuse to acknowledge their existence. Does this make them less deadly? I’m guessing so simply because no matter how many times I said “There’s a wild dog across the street” no one would look up. Since I am the only one that locked eyes with him, I was merely left with a snarl and show of teeth.

The teenagers in Belmont, Miss. like to hangout in front of the City Hall building at 9:00 on a Saturday night. I can’t figure out if this is because they are so dangerous that even the law is afraid of them…or if we just got lucky and didn’t have a break down somewhere in the middle of Children of The Corn Eight. I swear one of them looked just like Malichi!!!

Finally, there is something magical about driving down a back road, somewhere not listed on the map, the windows down, and the radio up just a hair. Not so soft where you can’t hear the tune, not so loud it drowns out the sound of your wife and child snoring in the back seat. It’s almost enough to make you forget how much money you are wasting on gas.

See ya around the next corner,
Charlie Blockhead

An Open Letter To Mr. Osment

LA CANADA FLINTRIDGE,
Actor Haley Joel Osment was hospitalized early Thursday after he apparently lost control of his car while heading to his Los Angeles-area home, authorities said.
Osment, who was nominated for an Academy Award for his role as a boy who could see dead people in "The Sixth Sense," was driving a 1995 Saturn about 1 a.m. when the car collided with a brick pillar and flipped, said Los Angeles County sheriff's Lt. Greg Sisneros.



Dear Mr. Osment,

I recently read the article above about your car accident on Cnn.Com and was relieved to hear that you survived such a terrifying ordeal. I have always been a big fan of yours going back to your days on “The Jeff Foxworthy Show”…man he’s one funny guy…I bet he just sat around drinking beer and tell’n them Redneck jokes all day…can you get me his autograph?…um…what was I talking about?oh, that’s right, as I was saying, I hope you are healing and nothing was badly broken.

The reason I am writing was to discuss a possible business transaction between the two of us. Now I know you’re a big movie star and you won an Oscar and you see dead people etc. etc. but I think I might just have the thing you need most right now. I, Charlie Blockhead, am willing to help you replace your beloved 1995 Saturn.

That’s right!!! For only $30,000 a like new 2003 Ford Focus Station Wagon can be yours! I’ve watched enough of Access Hollywood to know you motion picture types like them fancy, schmancy, “antiques”, so trust me with only 20,000 miles this baby is a classic. It comes with electric windows, cd/mp3 technology, one touch channel switch’n, these robotic arms that shoot over the windshield whenever it rains, and best yet…it’s got air condition’n for those hot Los Angeles days. It’s a pretty silver color (I got it that way so it always looks clean from a distance) and plenty of cargo space to hold all them awards that have obviously left you with thousands and thousands of dollars. Heck, I’ll even autograph it for ya,

So in closing, please think about my offer or at least get with Foxworthy about making one of them made for TV reunion movies. Them Growing Pains folks did it and you ain’t no better then them. Are ya?


Yours truly,
Charlie Blockhead

Do You Smell That?

Well, It’s happened. The poop has a smell.
Everyone said the day would come, but we never thought it would happen to us.

“He’s a breast milk baby. Their poop doesn’t stink.” We were quick to tell people.

We were wrong.

Has it always smelled?
Has his cuteness blinded us to the most oderific of all odors?
Does this mean he’s not as cute?

Diaper changes used to be filled with giggles and coo’s .
We would change him even if it wasn’t necessary, just so we could see his face light up and roll around in all his nakedness.

Now we wait till the last minute and bring a clothespin to cover our noses.
Plus the fact that we both know it’s just gonna get worse only makes us dread the inevitable noise that signals a fresh bomb has been dropped.

That’s something else…we used to call them poopies or dirties; now they are bombs in every sense of the word.

We used to share in the diaper changing duties, now possession is 9/10’s of the law.

I’m thinking about buying stock in Lysol.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Finally we are back from the July 4th holiday. This is the only time of the year that we travel out of state, so we try to cram as much fun as we can into the 3 or 4 days we are gone. There is sooooooooo much to talk about so I’ve broken it all down into mini-blogs and hopefully by the end of this week I will be done talking about it.

It really was a wonderful time for us this year. Another benefit of having a new baby is that they have a way of breathing new life into these holidays we have grow to take advantage of. Fred changed a bunch over the past few days and after experiencing fireworks, swimming, a long car ride, sleeping in a new bed, and meeting my new grandparents and great-grandparents all for the first time, who can blame him. I’m working on getting new photo software so I will have to wait and post pictures in a couple of weeks. So with out further ado, I present “A BLOCKHEAD FAMILY VACATION!!!”…

THE EARLY BIRD CATCHES THE WORM

I only get to see my dad and half-sister once a year. If it were up to me, we probably would have drove all night. I know you can’t plan for what a baby is gonna do, but I try desperately. This time I got it right. Up at 2:30 and on the road by 4:00. Lucy thought I was nuts but she understood how important this weekend is for me. All the prep work was done the night before. The car was packed to the brim (we were only going for 3 days and would be on the road half of 2 of those. Any longer than that and we would have had to rent a cargo van), the house was spotless, cats had enough food, car was gassed up…I had it all planned out. We weren’t sure how Fred would do once we got on the road. The last thing we wanted was to get to my grandparents and have him be all fussy because we didn’t bring something from our arsenal of baby distracters. We got the bouncy seat, his own toy suitcase, playpen, Moses basket, 2 pillow, 4 bags of misc. items (makeup, diapers, gifts, etc.) and a suitcase into the trunk of my Focus Station-wagon. I couldn’t see out the rear-view mirror but who needs that anyway.

Roll Tidey Bowl!!

Tuscaloosa, Al. is famous for a lot of things. Number one on that list would be their college football team The University of Alabama Crimson Tide!! In my state you are taught from birth that you are a fan of one of two state teams: Alabama (Roll Tide!!!) or Auburn (War Eagle!!) This heated rival has caused families to split down the middle, people have been murdered, and employees to be fired. I personally am a War Eagle and am proud of it.

Thanks to an interesting pit stop at a Cracker Barrel, this city will now forever hold a special place in our hearts for a different reason…that’s where Fred went trough 4 diapers and 2 changes of clothes in under an hour.


Meals on Wheels

It was some time shortly after our breakfast that baby Fred decided he was ready for his. This is probably the best time to mention that Lucy had been feeling that “I know I forgot something but can’t think of what” feeling since we had left the house at 4:00a.m. At 8:00 exactly she remembered…moo juice.

Just let that sink in for a minute.

We remembered clean underwear, socks, tooth brush, bibs, an extra passey, the breast pump, Winnie The Pooh, church shoes, music for the road….BUT WE FORGOT FOOD FOR OUR BABY!!!!!!!

So with only one bottle of milk, Lucy was forced to pump in the back seat while we zipped along I65 at 85mph on a holiday weekend. You should have heard her as she kept demanding “DON”T YOU DARE PASS THAT CAR OR LET ANYONE PASS US EITHER!!”

By the end of the trip I was applauding her ever time she walked by. After all she may have been on vacation but her body was working overtime.

OH MY GRANDPA

So the first night everything was kinda quiet. Fred did his best to get back into some type of schedule and ended up sleeping most of the day. This meant he didn’t really make eye contact with anyone unless they were giving him a bottle.

Saturday he got up early and I was sitting there enjoying a big breakfast of bacon and eggs, when my dad walked in. Most fathers and sons resemble each other but it’s different with my dad and me. It’s as if some mad scientist back in 1975 figured out a way to clone humans and he used my dad as a test subject. Subtract 20 years and a mustache from him and you would have my identical twin.

Fred saw this right away and when my dad walked in to see his grandson for only the second time ever (including the day before)…Fred let out the loudest happiest laugh we have yet to hear. It was like he had two daddies. He started squirming all over the place and looking back and forth at the both of us. The more my dad was around, the crazier he got. I have never seen him act sooooo excited to meet anybody. Speaking for my dad I can say it was the perfect hello anyone had ever given him.

A Chinese Thanksgiving

My grandparents have spent a large portion of their lives as missionaries though out Thailand. When I was Fred’s age they lived very close by and this meant that while most kids would come home to find a plate of mac- n-cheese, roast, and green beans waiting…I found my loaded up with chicken curry, fried rice, beef pepper steak, basil pork, or if I had a cold… the nasty of all nasties…lemon grass soup. It literally had grass in it. Oh and chicken bones…not chicken, that went into something else…just the bones. One whiff and you were either miraculously cured or forced to convince everyone you were never sick to begin with.

Like most preachers, my grandparents move a lot and as a result I only get to eat homemade Chinese food once or twice a year. I mean really Chinese food. Not a buffet filled with warmed over frozen vegetables. Real down and dirty, take all day to cook, full of broccoli and basil, hot and spicy, sweet and sour, eat with chop sticks, make you think your in a hut in the middle of a rice field; Chinese food. I must have gained ten pounds in one day.

Imagine your favorite food and then picture only being able to eat it once a year. By the end of the weekend I swear I was speaking Tai…Lucy says that was just gas though.

Baby’s First Nightmare

Maybe it was that he had never slept in his playpen before.

Maybe it was a delayed reaction to the car ride.

It may have been that Lucy had been ingesting large amounts of Sprite since the water out of the tab was like baby oil.

I suppose it could have been all the new faces mixing together with new smells and different noises.

Whatever the cause, at 3:30 A.M. on Sunday July 2nd Fred had his first official nightmare.

Boy was it was a doozie. I’d say more, but it was as if I had one that morning also.

If you think back to where you were on fateful morning, you might remember waking up suddenly or putting a pillow over your head for some reason and you can’t quite remember why…well it was Fred screaming for relief from some unimaginable terror.

A Love Explosion

The trip back was pretty uneventful. No pit stop poop-a-thons. No nightmares. No one got flashed by Lucy, as she continued pumping every 3 hours. Just a nice quiet drive home.

There is a church a couple of blocks over and every year they put on a huge fireworks show. We live close enough so we don’t even have to leave the front yard to hear the music and see the colors in the sky. We just pull up a lawn chair and enjoy the night.
This has been a tradition for the last few years. Go to Granny’s, come back and watch our own private fireworks show. Just the two of us standing in the grass, watching the streams of color shoot up from over trees and rooftops.

This year was different …we pulled into the driveway, gave some attention to the pets, and high five’d each other cause we had cleaned house the day before we left town.

The clouds had been threatening to break loose all day and you’d think that rain might spoil a fireworks show…but as I stood there with my lovely wife and brand new baby (happy to be out of his car seat and trying desperately to look at everything all at once)…I couldn’t help but thank God for all the blessings he had provided me this year.

As the green, pink, and blue sparks danced across the sky, I imagined my dad still making his way down the interstate, my grandparents peering out their bedroom window, and we were all staring up at that same nighttime light show. For just a second… just half a second, as the pictures were painted above us by some unknown artist…we became awed by the beauty as if we were still Fred’s age.

Somewhere in between all the pops and crackles, I could swear I heard my heart burst with love.

The Sting of a Good Nights Sleep

The past week has been one of hard choices and silent rewards around the Blockhead house. Fred is now weighing in at just under18 pounds and as a result he is out growing things at an alarming rate. The car seat limit is 20lbs so it’s on the verge of having to be swapped for the next size up. The swing no longer puts him to sleep like it used to. Ever since he discovered the joys of sitting in an upward position (he can almost get there by himself), lying on his back is a big no-no. These are just minor secondary tools in our ever-changing utility belt…the biggest cause for alarm has been that he no longer can fit in his bassinet. He’s simply too big for his bed.

So our choices were A) sleep in the bed with us or B) learn to sleep in the crib in his room.

A)Is a sure fire, works every time, guaranteed way to get him to sleep. Two seconds next to momma and he is out like a light. The downside is that momma doesn’t sleep cause Fred smacks her in the face all night. Either that or whenever something in the bed moves, she wakes herself up thinking the baby is about to be rolled over on.
B)Not only allows momma to sleep all night (in case your wondering the boot is still on), but also thanks to the handy dandy monitoring system we still feel like baby is in the room with us. Plus this method requires at least a 30 minute routine of giving baby a bath, putting on his pajamas, feeding him a bottle, and having a story read to him all before he even gets into the bed. That’s almost an 1 hour of solid family time every night!! The only negative…and this is a major negative to some people…he screams his lungs out until he falls asleep from exhaustion or we cave and pick him up.

So we could either not get any sleep at all or have him sleeping in our bed until he’s 18 …or we can teach him to sleep in his own bed and still manage to catch a few winks ourselves.

It was a hard choice to make to start with and now that we are on night 3 of option B, it is just getting harder. Everything and everybody in support of this method insists that after a week the little guy will just pass out as soon as he hits the pillow. He does seem to be sleeping better once he actually falls asleep. I just hope that the end of the week we aren’t still wondering if we are just making a big mistake.

Entertainment Weekly

My subscription to EW is running out this week. Ending in a big “double issue”. That’s just code for “we are taking a week off” These are always devoted to lists nobody gives a crap about. “Special Double Issue!!! The 50 Greatest Product Placements!!” “EW Special Edition: The 25 Most Awesome Movie’s That You Could Care Less About!!”

I think we severely over use the exclamation mark in this country. If you’d like another example tune into next weeks blog entitled “100 Greatest Overboard Uses of The Exclamation Point!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I’ve been fooled into believing that I couldn’t live without this magazine for the past several years. After all how do you truly have any entertainment without being told what should entertain you. That all ends this week. Recently I’ve found where true entertainment comes from. My family.

Superman Returns came out next week and I was dieing to see it…that is, I was dieing to see it for about 15 seconds every time I saw a promo for it. In those 15 seconds you’d be amazed at what ran through my head.

*OH HERE IS THE NEW SUPERMAN MOVIE!!
*IT LOOKS SOOOOO AWESOME.
*I GOTTA GO SEE IT. WHEN DOES IT COME OUT.
*Yea that would be cool…Fred will love it.
*Fred can’t go to movie, he’s only 3 month’s old.
*We could get a babysitter.
*He’s already at daycare all day.
* It’s just a couple of hours. I guess we could go. It’s not like we’d be gone all day.
* So it’s settled we’ll go next Saturday…we’ll get up watch cartoons, give him a bath, clean house, show him how to play with his new baby gym…then we’ll just leave for 3 hours.
* We’ll still have Sunday to spend with him.
* We’ll go to Church, eat lunch together, cut a little grass, take a nap, visit with grandpa, go back to Church, go eat dinner with friends…what was it I was wanting to do?

So I have decided to subscribe to Lucy and Fred Daily. It even comes with a few free gifts that nobody else can offer.

Rumors of My Death

Wow. I didn’t think I was ever going to be able to post again. My virus detector ran out a couple of weeks ago and I had to order a new one. The problem is I ordered it snail mail and it took forever to get here.

I really appreciate all you readers who have been asking where I have been. It’s nice to know somebody is reading this besides Lucy and my mom.
The good news is that although I have not been able to post, I have still been writing every day or so. You should see a ton of new columns within the next couple of days, including how things went on our trip.

So sit back, get comfortable, and make sure to read everything that has happened the past few weeks. Baby is changing faster than I can write about him.

3 Days, 9 Rooms, and 15 People.

My favorite time of the year is finally here. Sure the 4th of July is all about independence and fireworks and all that…but for the Blockhead family it’s the only time of year where we all gather in one place!!! Over the river and through the woods to Grandma and Grandpa Blockhead’s house we go.

Usually this means we all get hotel rooms near their house so we can get a least a good nights sleep (and give the grandparents some time to watch the weather channel and rethink their life choices) as we prepare for the next days events…but not this year. Apparently there has been a snow ball effect taking place and with each new day more people have decided to just show up and crash on the floor. As of 6/27/06 the total is up to 15 people with still 2 full families not committing to the gathering.

Lucy and I will be the first one’s there so we get one of the 2 guest rooms, plus we get VIP status for bringing the new baby. We get a bed, TV, and a rocking chair. Next up will be my dad and half-brother and sister (they got the last hotel room). Followed by my cousin and her 6 month old daughter (also with VIP status and guaranteed a room, you gotta take advantage of the babies while you can.) Next comes my aunt with the trusty air mattress and finally my other aunt with her husband and 2 kids.

My grandparents are getting up in their 70’s and I will admit I don’t know if they can still keep control over a zoo full of people…but like it or not a when they answer the doorbell on Friday morning, a stampede of wild Blockheads is gonna destroy their peaceful house.

Oh and don’t forget the 4th means fireworks and that’s another name for explosives. I heard that the day after we left last year the neighbors began looking for a more calming place to spend the holiday this year. I think they finally settled on the path of the nearest hurricane.

So as you sit back and chomp a rib, maybe float along aimlessly in your swimming pool…please say a prayer for Granny and Grandpa Blockhead, cause this year the animals in the zoo don’t have their own cages to go back too and the monkeys are getting restless.

Do We Always Get the Full Spelling?

Quiz time. What do these words have in common?
Where & Wear
Meet &Meat
There & Their
By & Bye
Stair & Stare
Give up? If I were to say them out loud…just the one word and nothing before or after it…would you know which one I was talking about? Would you be able to understand how that word is spelled? What the meaning behind it was? Would you be able to describe it? Is it a verb or a noun? An adjective or an adverb? What if I gave you the first couple of letters? Would that help? Probably not huh? You might form an opinion as to which word I meant? It might be correct…it might be incorrect.

People are like this too. You go around and you meet people. You live your life surrounded by family and friends and coworkers…and you base these relationships on what they show you. Do we always get the full spelling? Do we really know what is going on inside somebody’s heart?

See my problem is I think I may have spelled somebody’s name wrong. I think somebody is using multiple spellings. Appearing to be one way around myself, but revealing an alternate self to others. I’m now left with a decision to make. Nobody is forcing my hand yet, but I can feel a rock forming in my stomach silently demanding that a choice be made as to who I think this person is. Here’s the catch…once the choice is made a large part of my life will be change forever.

So what do I do? For now all I can thank of is to speak to the one person I do know the complete spelling of…GOD.

Attack of the Mini-Blogs!!!!

Father’s Day numero uno.

I had a great Father’s Day. I got a tie and the very first Peanuts movie ever made i.e. the 1969 classic A Boy Named Charlie Brown. I really can’t wait till Fred and I watch it together. I also love the idea of getting a new tie every year. I know it’s kinda corny and I only wear them to church, but to me nothing says Father like a necktie. I also received the gift of rest!! This may have been the greatest gift of all. Lucy was sick last week and we weren’t sure it was going to work out, but by Friday things were golden. While Lucy cared for the baby, I read my book (Dean Koontz’s Life Expectancy. Yes I finally finished the Da Vince Code. What a big let down that was). I played with the baby, watched a scary movie with Lucy, caught most of the golf game, and had nothing but peanut butter cookie dough ice cream for at least 3 meals. Ah what I life I have lead the past few days. I am sooooo sad to see it go. And this brings me to my next topic…

Calling Mary Poppins.

Man!! Three days of neglect and the house was a wreck. We are very organized people and even have a list of what needs to be done on what day. I’m green, Lucy is pink and whenever something gets done we mark it off on the day we did it. Admittedly pink always beats green, but this weekend nothing got scratched off. Looks like we are going to have to rebuild. Sometimes I feel like one of those circus acts where the guy is spinning 6 plates and has to keep running up and down the line so one of them doesn’t fall and break…too much time spent on one plate and your left sweeping up a bunch of glass. Which brings me too…

All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down.

We go to a very large church and one of the advantages of this is the number of friends you get to share your life with. Everywhere you go you bump into this person or that couple. Seldom do we eat at a restaurant where we don’t end up sitting with somebody we just ran into. Anyway there are about 20 of us that used to get together every Thursday night to talk about God and life and whatever else was on our minds. For many it became the highlight of the week, that extra boost to get over a mid-week bump in the road.
I’m not sure when it happened but we quit having these awhile back and I desperately miss it. Sure I still see the same friends, but there is nothing like having everyone in the same place. For years Lucy and I wished we had a church family and finally we found the perfect home. The thing is just like that family of four I used to be apart of…people start moving away, life interferes, and suddenly you look up and what was once a loving family has turned into strangers passing each other in the church auditorium. I know we all still care about each other but I miss the closeness. It used to be like we lived in Mayberry and now we might as well be in New York City. Speaking of Mayberry….

Them Rascals Flat Out Put the Baby to Sleep.

What can I say? The kid loves country music. While Lucy is still recovering from the break in her foot, I’m making the daycare run twice a day. Anytime he gets fussy, I put in the cd Melt and he calms down almost instantly. While we were out this weekend I showed this little trick to Lucy and sure enough, by the time the song Mayberry came on he was dreaming of ice-cold cherry…coke nana nana nana nananananana
I listen to a bunch of different styles of music, from Brad Paisley to Cold Play to Linkin Park. So I guess it’s no big deal that he has focused on this style. Part of me just wish he could latch on to something with a little less depressing. We both sing to him everyday. One of my fondest memories is being with my dad and listening to Queen. A few hears back, I bought a copy of Sports by Huey Lewis and the News cause it was the first cassette my dad ever gave me. It’s funny what we remember about our parents, as we get older. And now back to Father’s Day….

Oh Father Where Are’t Thou?

Lately I have become very disappointed with my gender. As we were cruising for possible Father’s Day gifts I was shocked by the lack of attention this holiday receives from the retail industry. Mother’s Day is an appointment holiday. We are warned about it right after Valentine’s Day. “Don’t forget your mother this year. It’s only a few weeks away” “Doesn’t Mom deserve something special this year?” Father’s day is the exact opposite. One place we went had a single display of golf balls and car wash supplies…how generic!! They may as well call it Arbor Day and forget is even exists. Then I found out the reason behind this lack focus on the father.
We are a dying species. Did you know that there are 66 million fathers in the U.S, but only 26 million are part of a marriage? That’s only 39%!!!! No wonder the stores aren’t dedicating 3 isles to nothing but dad’s…we have put the burden of childcare squarely on the shoulders of mom and don’t deserve the attention. We live in a world where the average father has turned into a jobless, adulterating, shifty, abusive, lazy, bum or if they do work they are so preoccupied that they try to squeeze their families between the 8:00 board meeting and the 2:00 tee off time. Now I’m not saying every dad is this way, but I am saying that 40 million of us must have some of these characteristics!! I am proud to be part of an equal parenting partnership. One that is fair and involves both mom and dad pulling their own weight…and I will even admit that it’s not always 100% divided down the middle, but to hear the praises that are undeservedly given to me once people find out that I have actually been doing most of the house work while Lucy is recovering from a broken foot and a virus that left her with a temperature of 104 … you would think I was the lost Unicorn leaping from the pages of a storybook. The way I see it I’m only doing my fair share, just as I hope I was doing before the baby got here. And finally speaking of the baby going places…

Fred Gets to Meet His Match.
I only get to see my dad once a year cause he lives like a million miles away. We always get together on July 4th at my grandparent’s, whom I also only see once a year. Well this year is extra special obviously due to baby Fred. Not only will this be his first car trip (a 5 hour drive) but he will also get to spend 3 days with his grandpa and his great grandparents. Both of which are just dying to see him. The coolest part is that we all look exactly alike. I am named after my dad who was named after his dad, but we decided to go a different direction with Fred cause Lucy didn’t want to play the “which one us is she talking to?” game the rest of her life. When I get back I will be sure to post a picture of the four of us together so you can see we are all a chip off the old blockhead…I just had to say that. I do love the corny jokes.

I’ll try and post another this week, so don’t go far.
Until next time!!
Charlie Blockhead.

Chief Red Face and the God of Thunder

During his 2½ months on this planet, Fred has never been much of a crier. A few weeks ago we took him in for his first set of shots and at the exact moment the needle pierced his skin Chief Red Face was born. As we all know, practically every experience is a new one for a baby and with each new adventure comes a new lesson. The needle taught Fred if he really gave it his all, he could scream louder than he ever imagined possible.

This alter ego is a tough one to swallow. Somehow he is able to turn our sweet, giggly, curly haired baby into…well…into something else…something much more powerful than Lucy, Charlie, and all the weapons at our disposal.

With slick black hair, a wide mouth filed with rage, and left hook just itching to dot an I or cross a T, Chief Red Face is a force that commands your full attention. Up until last night we thought that his biggest weapon was sleep deprivation. Now I must say this is a very effective tool to use against the forces of Mommy and Daddy, but little did we know the full power of the red faced one!!!

We have been under a small drought here in North Alabama and this weekend was a scorcher. Not a cloud in the sky, not a shade to rest under, the 97-degree heat has been brutal. I can almost hear the dead grass cracking under my feet as I write this. Before Sunday night, rain was only a distant memory left to be talked about between old men as they slow spooned their biscuits and gravy down at the local Hardee’s.

Sunday night that all changed when Chief Red Face paid us a visit.

The warning signs weren’t there this time. Though now that I look back, Fred had slept almost all night for the last few days…I should have seen it coming…for that I am to blame. He began crying at 9:00 p.m. nothing unusual about that, but by 10:00 the crying had not stopped. We went directly to the armory. The swing missed by inches, the bouncy seat only made the crying worse, Patches the puppy was tossed about like the stuffed animal he is thankful to be. Finally by 11:00 the crying had stopped….but it was just the calm before the storm.

The attack came at 1:00 a.m.!!! The cry in the dark grew as I quickly switched from passey to bottle back to passey. Momma jumped in with the quick bounce but Chief Red Face was now upon us….that’s when we heard it!! BOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM.!!!! BOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!
“WAS THAT WHAT I THINK IT WAS!!!” I screamed.
“I HAVE NO... I THINK WE … A MAJOR PROBLEM ON OUR HANDS” said Lucy as she quivered in the bed unable to make complete sentences!!

Then as if he had command of the very forces of nature…
CRACK, BOOOOOMMMM, FLLLLAASSSSHHHHH
Lightning shot from the sky and the thunder shook the foundations of the house.

What happened after that? I confess. I blacked out from fear only to find baby Fred peacefully asleep the next morning. My only memory is that of Lucy running from the room clutching the baby to her chest screaming “Jesus love me this I know!!”

A Long Strange Trip

Lucy was never supposed to have fallen. I’m the clumsy one. One time I twisted my ankle because I was staring up into a pecan tree for too long. I was just standing there and the next thing I know I was on the ground. To this day I can’t walk down the hall and not bump into one of the walls. I even dropped Fred last week. Luckily I was standing over the bed at the time and he only dropped 2 feet onto a pillow.

If I were to have some type of accident that required me to be in a full body cast, Lucy wouldn’t miss a beat. She’s amazing. You should see her handle baby Fred. I think I know her secret though…it happened really fast and I only caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, but I know what I saw. She was sitting on the couch trying to calm a very upset baby Fred, both cats were attempting to get in her lap, I was busy burning dinner, and then the phone rang. Out of no where a third arm shot out from her back, shoved the cats off, grabbed a dropped passey in mid air, and got the phone by the second ring. She can’t fool me. I know the secret to her powers.

My point is if something happened to me, the daily routine wouldn’t suffer much.
That’s why I almost passed out when she called last week to tell me she had fallen and hurt herself. She had just dropped Fred off at daycare and tripped on her way back to the car. Oh and there was a loud CRACK from somewhere just under her pinky toe.

We are a team. When the quarterback goes down, it’s time to call in the second string.
So until momma’s broken foot is healed and the big blue boot comes off, I’m the man. It’s been a week and I have come to a couple of conclusions.

First of all, I will never be a single parent. Sure I’m doing ok for now but Lucy is still there to give me pointers. Plus her foot is healing and there is some type of a timetable involved. It may be 3 weeks or two months from now, but she will be better eventually. The day will come again when I will be able to hand him off to his mom and read a book or enjoy a moment to myself. Single parents have nobody to pass the buck to. They just have to suck it up and deal with the tantrums as they come. I’m all about the tag team.

Second, I love my son more with every second. He is growing so much and you can see his mind thirsting for new things. We have been skiing and deep sea diving and out riding horses on the range. Anything that allows him to swing his arms and legs is right up his alley. We just sit there for hours and pretend to run from the Abominable Snowman or a giant octopus. So what he cries a little around bedtime, it’s just all part of it. I’m exhausted and Lucy helps as much as she can, but a side effect is that Fred and I have become closer than ever. Which is something I have been waiting on since he was born.

I believe that it’s not up to me to figure out why something happens. The best I can do is make the most of whatever situation I find myself in. I would be sugar coating it if I said that things were better than ever around the Blockhead house lately. The truth is… raising your first child is hard enough with two people and very complicated with one and a half.

So you may be wondering about my disappearance last week and to summarize here is what happened: Lucy fell, I stood up, Fred grew, and I was blown away by how much I love my family and depend on my wife.

See you soon,Charlie Blockhead

Blue About Mr. Red.

I haven’t cut the grass much this year.
We moved into our current house about 5 years ago and since then I have done some amazing things to the yard. Before we moved in, there was nothing but grass. Now the whole house is surrounded with roses, azaleas, tulips, you name it we probably planted it. It’s the kind of yard that screams, “Come play outside”.

Or at least it was…

This year something is different. The major reason I’m not out there is Fred. I just don’t have the time or the interest to be in the yard all day. Every time I go out to do something about the weeds or to prune a rose, I think about what I could be doing inside with the baby. There is only so much you can squeeze into two days and Fred has jumped to the top of the list. However this isn’t the only reason I don’t want to be outside.

Mr. Red has lived across the street from us for over 30 years. He loves to tell stories about how my house was once a swamp. On occasion he would actually load a few of the kids up in a flat bottom boat and row through what would someday become a thriving community. He once got so tired of the snakes coming from the swamp, that he set it on fire. The city refused to come out and clear the area, so he lit it up and it burned for 3 days before anyone came out.

Every week I’ll start to cut grass and there will be Mr. Red working on the old gray pickup or sitting next to his pond watching the gold fish swim in circles. When he’s not outside, I find myself looking up to see if he’s heard my mower and just hasn’t made it out yet. It’s often the case that we spend more time swapping stories than we do getting any work done.

Mr. Red passed away earlier this year and as you may have noticed…I still talk like he’s still around. His truck is still there. His wife still comes over to see the baby or catch us up on neighborhood gossip. His yard is in better shape now than it ever was…not mine though.

Every couple of weeks I’ll go out and crank the mower. I get around to the front of the house and look up wondering where my friend is…and that makes me miss my wife and son. So this year I’ve got weeds. I’ve got gutters that need to be cleaned. I’ve a tool shed that is about to explode if I don’t get in there and organize it better. What I don’t have is a reason to go outside.