A juggling technophile shares personal stories, challenges, humor and perhaps some political commentary.
Fatherly posts.
File this under things that make me twitch.
Tommy, in a phone call to me: "By the way, my laptop hasn’t worked for the past week and a half or so. Says something about no bootable media."
Me: "Did you install anything recently or drop it?"
Tommy: "No but there are two screws missing on the bottom."
Amy, seven years old: "Thanks for dinner Daddy. Without you, we’d starve to death!"
Me: "Well, you’re welcome."
Evan, four years old: "You can say, ‘my pleasure.’"
My morning duty today is to cook bacon and clean mouse guts off a large stick that up until this week I would have called sterile. See, the pet shop didn’t have any small rats. Only very large "small" rats so we decided to buy two large mice instead. Either the snake didn’t see or smell the second rotting mouse or he just wasn’t that hungry. And we forgot to check on it. So a couple of days later, the lump of gooey fur became my problem. I have to go flip the bacon now and find a toothbrush I want to forever sacrifice. Enjoy brunch!
To fully appreciate the events you are about to read, you must understand that Knoxville had a snow and ice storm over the weekend. The forecast was so certain that announcements on Thursday night declared all area schools closed for Friday, except Pellissippi State Community College where my oldest son attends. The snow came Friday afternoon and PTSCC closed early.
We are a seven person household with five children attending five different schools: pre-school, elementary, middle, high, and college. We have one functioning vehicle.
On Monday, schools delayed opening two hours due to icy roads. Normally, Sarah gets a ride to the high school with a neighbor who teaches at the high school. To protect identities, let’s call her Tonya. For the past decade, I have worked out of my basement, telecommuting to answer my client’s needs around the world. On this particular Monday, I actually had a rare onsite appointment from 8am to 5pm downtown. Before leaving, I asked Sarah, "Do you have a ride?" She replied, "I called last night and Tonya wasn’t there but they said she’d call back if she couldn’t give me a ride. She didn’t call back so I’m good." I left. At 9am, with 30 minutes left before Sarah’s 2 hour delayed pickup, Tonya’s husband called. To protect identities, let’s call him Randy. Randy explained that Tonya went to the high school early. I knew Cathy, my wife, was fighting a migraine and sleeping in so I called Sarah directly. Sarah explained her boy friend, let’s call him Zach, would drive her to school.
Cathy calls me a little amped, "Sarah and Tonya have been in an accident! Air bags went off and Sarah won’t call an ambulance because she’s waiting for the police. You’ve got to call Randy and tell him that Tonya’s been in an accident."
I stare into my half finished first cup of coffee trying to shake the fog out of my head and process what I’ve just heard, "Tonya. Sarah. Accident. Call Randy." That doesn’t make sense. Other thoughts: "The woman is always right" "Yes dear" "Want a happy life, keep a happy wife!" I call Randy and about the time his very confused question, "Tonya was in an accident?" hit my ear, I realized Cathy didn’t know Zach drove Sarah so I apologized to Randy for the confusion and called Cathy.
If Cathy could be sheepish over the phone, she pulled it off, "Whoops. I just told the elementary school they had a pregnant woman in a car accident in the parking lot and they needed to get her to a doctor." Later that night I apologize to Randy again who chuckles and asks, "Did you know I was in an accident today?" No way! Then he explains, "See, Tonya took my car in today and I drove hers. So when her principal, let’s call him Dr. Barlett, checked on her because he’d heard she’d been in an accident, probably from the elementary school, she just knew someone had seen her car in an accident, assumed it was her, she knew it had to be me, and called to see if I was okay." Cymbal crash.
There’s something wonderfully amusing in listening to the four year old talk smack with the thirteen year old.
Rains have come. The creek out back has enough water in it that we can see the water from the house. I just checked the trench, wanna be French drain, that protects our basement from flood and sure enough, the sides have collapsed. We don’t have water in the basement yet but will if I don’t get out there and dig us out. I need to be programming every second of today but this has to take priority. Back to the Mosquito Coast.
Note: On the above video, after the first twenty seconds or so I figure out how to not have that obnoxious noise.
The creek in this video is at least 5 feet deep.
Sarah has a portfolio review today near Nashville for a summer art program where she would get to live at a university and work with some very talented people. This is very important which is why I cringed when I saw Cathy’s tweet:
Why is the teenager dressed like a clown for her portfolio review? [Source, Twitter, @cathymccaughan]
After a grueling day yesterday, I failed to do the standard road checks last night. This morning as the girls were walking out the door, I found a nail in a tire. The same nail I found in the same tire weeks ago and forgot about. No problem! I could plug it in minutes only I was out of plugs. 30 minutes later, I had purchased plugs, discovered McDonald’s at Northshore and Pellissippi still has free air, fixed the tire myself, signed a conversation with an old friend, and had two very upset women driving to Nashville. Good luck Sarah!
As I held infant Amy, rocking her to sleep, I’d talk to her and tell her how much I looked forward to having conversations together. You know the joke: We spend the first part of their lives teaching them how to talk and the rest of their lives trying to get them to shut up. As I held infant Evan, rocking him to sleep, I’d have the same discussion. Eventually they did learn to talk and we’ve had some fascinating conversations.
Today Amy, 7 years old, asked, "What is radioactivity? Is it bad?" So I proceeded to talk to Amy about radio waves, the visual spectrum, light, ear drums, we drew an atom, and a water molecule. She listened and questioned and conjectured. That was fun!
Parenting Tip #423: Use a tape recorder to record a minute of your infant’s sounds every week. Their noises change from week to week and you will enjoy listening to the tape when they are older. Also, they love to hear their own noises so that tape in a Playskool tape player (vintage? Okay.. get a digital recorder) is good for about 20 minutes of babysitting or so I am told. This was some advice from a friend that I failed to follow with some regrets.
It’s as if Evan can detect that I’m nearing my breaking point so he’s going to extra effort to try to push me over the edge.
Dharma, I know you are a dog and I recognize that your brain may have a short circuit or two so let spell this out for you. Pooping in the walking path is not allowed! You are very funny and obviously have figured my gait out perfectly because your landmines are batting 1000. See if your doggie mind can read my human mind because the mental image I have right now is of a cold, outdoor kennel. Molly knows where to poop in this yard. Follow her!
Evan, I know you are four years old…four and a half to be fair…and the antique, crank out windows in this house have a particularly rewarding feeling to their almost steampunk mechanical opening action. However, when the temperatures at night are dropping to -1.6°C*, sleeping with the window open is inadvisable and does not lend to a friendly electric bill. If this behavior continues, I will have to increase your rent to offset the cost of heating this house. Oh, and you may catch a cold.
*Temperature conversion provided by Onlineconversion.com.
File this under things I thought I’d never say.
Clothing belongs in one of three places: on your body, the laundry, or folded up and put away.
Evan, 4.5 years old seeing the food I just prepared: "Eggs!"
Me: "Do you want toast with your eggs?"
Evan: "Yeah!! What’s toast?"
