What’s that noise? *splash* *splash* *splash* Sounds wet. Oh! I spin around to see Evan, having finished his cereal, patting his hand in the bowl. He looks at me with shifty eyes, "more."
Category: Of Being Dad
Fatherly posts.
My Rock Star
I just took a little one on one time with Noah to teach him the notes on a guitar, the strings, and how to tune. We used a keyboard to drive home the explanation for when to skip a fret and when not to skip a fret for the correct note. He was a good study. In the end, he put the guitar down because he didn’t want it out of tune when he took it to the grandparent’s house to play with Uncle Danny! That Unc is really important to these children!
It’s good to answer the phone. Sword Swallowing!
I have this mixed luck. I get some of the most horrendous, ill-timed, apparent "bad" luck. But it is all perspective. Yes, the power went out last night and forced me to experience a 4 hour delay; however, I got some much needed sleep and was of clearer mind for it. I do believe strongly in karma as well as outlook.
An Irishman was out walking and stepped in some dog poo. He declared, "look at my great fortune! I could have been wearing my good shoes!"
Two weeks ago I asked if we could go to the Bindlestiff Family Circus. JackFM 95.7 put up a contest which I entered and they drew my name! This is exciting on a variety of levels. One, I rarely win anything. Two, the family gets to do something unique and entertaining! Three, I love the Bijou. I even appear in a fund raising video around the time the future of the Bijou was in question. Four, Sword Swalling and JUGGLING! Thank you JackFM!
Because, we know when something is up!
Yes! That’s it! Exactly!
Old People are so Schtooopid
Apparently my children really do not understand what I do. As I looked over my son’s recent changes to his blog, he took it upon himself to explain, "The 3s are backwards Es, the @ is an A and the 5s are Ss." I wonder if I should tell him about blue boxing and phreaking.
So I’m a condom ad
Young Purchases
I remember the first condom I ever bought. I was 11 or 12 and it was a dry, non-lubricated condom. I remember this because I bought it at a store that sold Mardi Gras beads, magic tricks, and novelties. The condom came in a white box with a joke printed on it. I do not remember the joke. What I do remember is that I did not buy it for the joke rather I wanted to know what one of those things looked like.
That first condom purchase had no tension. Every condom purchase after that for the better part of a decade was guilt ridden. You’d approach the checkout feeling that because you were under 18 you would be denied your purchase. Or you would not take your eyes off the floor for fear of seeing those judging eyes of everyone in the store who had obviously stopped their shopping to stare at the sinful teen buying a condom. Didn’t they know it was going to just sit in that vinyl wallet to make the status circle until the wrapper wore thin and had to be replaced with another condom?
Providing Protection
As a resident assistant at the University of TN Knoxville (Clement and Reese), I had condoms galore to distribute to the residents. Aids Response Knoxville had given me 200-300 colored condoms to distribute to the residents. Ha! They should have been named inner tubes rather than condoms considering they were thick enough to bag your lawn clippings. But they were pretty! As I gave someone the last condom, I lamented that I’d have to buy condoms again. Of course, you can get free condoms online from Trojan and Durex.
Five Children Later
Two years ago, Omega was born. Two years ago, I readied myself to never purchase a condom again. For the most part, guys don’t want anyone playing around their groin with one notable exception. Age and economics have placed us in a position of saying 5 children is enough. Don’t get me wrong. I love having a large family and would have really liked having more children (not that many). Just under two years ago, I lamented that merely $600 kept me from participating in National Vasectomy Awareness Week.
Buying Condoms With Children
The other day Cathy, Evan and I approach the checkout at the grocery store and it occurs to me that we are in no position to exercise some adult stress relief. Evan is a little wild so I take him with me as Cathy unloads the shopping cart at the register. I find where they keep the condoms and I stare into the multi-color array of pleasure choices. Ribbed for the illusion of increased stimulation. Extra-large for small egos. Coated in desensitizing lotion in case your antidepressant is not doing its job. "Anti-depressants; they make you popular!" Non-lubricated for nostalgia. Flavored because you’re fooling yourself. Twisted because we’re fooling you. Tingling because no sex is better than the kind she screams out, "it burns! it burns!" Ultra-ultra-ultra thin because you might just want another baby.
Oh. I got distracted. Where’s Evan? Oh! Screaming and bolting for the exit. I grab the least expensive 12 pack (a year’s supply) checking to make sure it doesn’t say nonoxynol-9 (which I am pretty sure doesn’t come on any condom anymore) and making sure it doesn’t say Michelin then bolt for Evan. He sees me coming, laughs, squeals, changes direction and shoots toward the lines of staring people at the checkouts. "Oh look honey! That man carrying the box of condoms is chasing the undisciplined hellion." I finally catch Evan who grabs the box of condoms and politely hands them to the cashier.
Internet Campaign to Neuter Doug
I think Evan is finally turning in his lease. 
I have a chance at a romance life again! I think perhaps it is time to walk the path some other brave men have journeyed. Time to buy a decent bottle of scotch and a bag of frozen peas. Dr. Snip here I come!
Parenting can be tough
Evening Gone Awry
Since I did not get my work finished this weekend, I did not get to take time today to fix up my bike (which looks like a pile of rust anyway). We rushed to get dinner made and for some odd reason the taquitoes didn’t cook so no one ate. We get down to the head of the bike trail at 7pm, the normal scout meeting time, and we see evidence of our Scouts but no Scouts. Obviously they met earlier. We just never saw an email. Turns out they met at 6 and rolled out at 6:15. We arrived at 6:55. We drove for 30 minutes searching the trail and finally returned to the finish line to let Noah, Amy and Evan ride the trail. We got to see a train and wave at the engineer. They had a blast and eventually the Scouts returned. Molly wrenched my arm out of socket but we also got some good sprinting in. I need more regular exercise like that. Unfortunately, I’d planned the evening to be coding. Now I’m just tired and sore.
Can I possibly correct the mistakes I have made within this lifetime?
Egad they’re real!
Saturday night Cathy, Tommy, Evan and I decided to grab a bite to eat. And we treated ourselves to a restaurant. As we are being seated my eyes fall upon the grill that the restaurant is giving away and I drift over to it to fill out the marketing information registration as the rest of the crew move on. "It’s Doug!" I look up to see Thing 1 and Thing 2 and a nice couple, obviously their parents. Look away! Don’t make eye contact. Blast this facial/name recognition deficiency of mine. Wait. You have to look at their faces to recognize them otherwise its just bodies in clothes. Clothes! Look for clues. Well, Thing 1 and Thing 2. Pretty big clues! Tall guy. They know me. Where’s my help? Panic! Look at grill. No look for Cathy. Eh. The restaurant is a cloud of blurry people. Looks like I’m staring at the prison train from The Wall. Eeks. No help there. Clues? A theatre reference on the shirt! Thing 1, Thing 2. Suessical! It’s the Barrys!
Whew! Takes a lot of words to recall 5 seconds of one’s life. I don’t know if it is the stress of worrying that if you don’t immediately recognize someone that you will offend them or if it was all that beerdamage I did to my brain in college or if its the stress of my life in general or if I just am incapable but regardless of how well I know you there are simply times where I stare at your face and no name will come to me!
I really like seeing our online friend’s in the real world. It is nice to pretend that I have friends in the flesh for the people who read Reality Me probably know me better than people in real life and the readers probably interact with me more than people in real life. I really stay locked in the basement A LOT! We need human contact! Granted, Scouting and some of the other activities of the children have brought us out of our hermitation a bit of late. And that’s nice. Of course, I wanted to bug the Barry’s and be social but Cathy in her ever present since of prudence would not let me interrupt their dinner although I sneaked in a "good-bye" and "break a leg" despite Cathy’s protests. Barry and family, it was great seeing you guys!
Heading to Sicko tonight!
When Tommy declared, "There should be a law that you have to speak English in America."
I ranted at him for half an hour. I didn’t force my view upon him rather made an effort to open his mind to another perspective. I used examples such as "if you went to Spain, you should have to speak Spanish"
and he’d retort "but I am not living there"
so we went through what-if scenario after scenario and using examples such as the nice people who work at CiCi’s pizza and do not speak a word of English yet they communicate with the patrons just fine. Eventually Tommy was begging to end the conversation and I released him content that maybe he’d heard something; more than likely, he will simply think twice before raising such issues in front of me again (which would be a shame).
Since Tommy will vote for our next President, and since he gets plenty of far right opinion for other relatives, I felt it prudent that he and Sarah begin their political education. How fortunate that R. Neal of Knoxviews.com offered up some tickets to Michael Moore’s Sicko! I’m sure their grandfather will deprogram them afterwards. It is not the point-of-view that I want to impress upon the children as much as I want them to appreciate that there are multiple ways to see a subject, multiple solutions to a problem, and that they should try to see everything as if they were in that other person’s shoes. See you at the movie tonight!
Paralyzed
I woke up early in the morning ready to get up and program while everyone slept but I could not move. I was lying on my right side in the shape of a C. The dog lay on feet. Evan was leaning against my back. And in the C the cat was curled up against my stomach and purring.
Sometimes, the signs are telling you to keep sleeping.
Laundry
Would someone kindly explain to me why bras don’t have laundering instructions on them?
The Button That Beeps
From now on, everything I make is going to have one of these.
That Grass Looks Green!
On days like today, I can’t help but think maybe I do need a real job!
I can’t imagine anything "the they" could throw at me which would be more demanding than what I currently do.
How’s life?
Sometimes I want to post intimate details, no not those kind, of my life but to do so would really overstep the bounds of good taste and common sense. I work as an independent consultant. It is a terribly difficult way to live but offers great rewards (otherwise, why do it?). I think people would find the challenges I face intriguing; however, clients relations could be damaged and friends and family would turn up the frequency of the "why don’t you get a real job" question. Psst! Hey Spanky. I’ve got a real job!
We tend to live a feast or famine lifestyle; not much of a middle ground. I know! I’ll write a book. It can be published at a later time when the information will not result in harsh criticisms from those who cannot see the long term benefit of the present day suffering nor will it compromise my relationships with clients and locals. Once upon a time…
