Ramblings, often stream of conscious, journaling the events of my life.
The little boy next door just came over, knocked, and politely asked, "Could Amy come over and swim in my pool?" to which Amy grabbed her swim suit and went on her merry four year old way. This is the same boy that seems like only yesterday was standing naked in my driveway and would periodically just let himself in the house to play with toys.
Amy is growing so fast!
I went upstairs and couldn’t believe my eyes. Mixed in with the toys scattered across the living room floor was a, um, er, a marital aid
Coming close to a recreation of a scene from Parenthood
Asking, "What would Alan Shore do?" I reacted calmly, slipping the tool into my pocket, making eye contact with the wife, and calling Sarah to babysit for 3 minutes.
Now honey, your neck massager needs to be put somewhere different. And feel free to read all kinds of double entendre into that.
After picking up some groceries, I readied myself to head home in the Jeep with the top down. Let’s say the isle I was parked in is isle K. The exit from the parking lot is on isle L half way down. Naturally, you can drive all the way around or cut through. I was driving down isle K and remembered that the exit wasn’t at the end of the isle. In the seconds that it took for me to look to my right to see the exit in isle L a car materialized in front of me. I slammed on the brakes, swerved, and said something akin to a prayer (I’m sure St. Pete and I will debate that later). I’m a lane driver. He was a cut through driver.
Here I sit with my bumper a mere 6 inches from his fender. We make eye contact. Critical choices are made. The outcome? I smile, give a wave, verbalize "you ok?", he waves back, I drive around him completing isle K and loop around for isle L, he cuts through to isle L but waits for me to complete my loop allowing me to exit first. No one hurt. No one angry.
I still contend that the lines are painted in the parking lot both to give order to maximizing the number of parked cars AND give direction to prevent chaotic accidents. If you are going to cut across a parking lot at least recognize that you are doing something unpredictable and keep a sharp eye.
Lately I have found myself in discussions on blended families. I find it interesting to see how the different families handle their individual situations.
We know one family that the parents divorced and the mother remarried. The child still sees biodad most every weekend but the stepfather is there day and night for the child through thick and then. The child goes out of his way to distinguish the stepfather as "my step dad."
We have other friends that are a blended family. The daughter sees biodad regularly but I get the impression perhaps not as regularly as she would hope. The stepfather is hated despite appearing to be a kind, soft spoken, gentle man. The stepfather is called by his first name.
Last night I was told about a man who refuses to be a dad. He is the male in the house but totally ignores when his high school stepson comes home drunk or otherwise shows out. He declares, "I am not his father and it is not my place to discipline him." I so disagree! Perhaps that child is pushing the boundaries in part to see if this man will come alive and be his dad. Regardless, the child has been setup for rough relationships in his future.
In our house, I am called "Dad." We did not force it upon the older three and gave them the option to call me "whatever makes you most comfortable." For awhile, Tommy tried on "Doug" and, in the beginning, after every phone call with biodad there was great confusion causing the children to stressfully stammer between "Dad" and "Doug" because he gets upset if the children call him by first name. With the exception of Tommy, I have been the father figure in their lives longer than all biodad’s years. With irregular phone calls and 36-72 hours of visits a year, I don’t see how biodad could expect to nuture a relationship with the children. The teenage girl now refuses his calls so often that he has resorted to tricks to get her on the phone, "hand her the phone but don’t tell her who it is."
Any man with a half decent sperm count can father a child. A dad is the person who speaks to each of the stuffed animals by name at three a.m. while carefully cleaning spatters of vomit from their delicate fur. A dad is there to comfort a scared child and help her get cleaned up to return to bed. A dad takes the good and the bad. A dad is there for the children and it doesn’t matter if those children are his own dna, adopted, stepchildren, or squatters. Being a dad is something special and I am honored to be called "Dad."
Son, your first year has been incredibly exciting! You amaze me every day. Hold onto that smile and happiness for all your life!
Here’s my totally unconfirmed account. I post this without researching right now simply because it is Friday and on Friday no blogs or reads blogs except my wife and I.
There are reports shots have been fired in Rayburn House Office Building across street from U.S. Capitol. Entire Capitol complex is locked down.
…
they are now putting yellow tape around the entrance
…
swat teams and bomb sniffing dogs going into the building
Evan: "Rompf gurr hurr-rum romfp fps"
Dad: "Tommy, I think Evan is trying to tell you something."
Evan: "Errr oohph umm umm"
Tommy: "No, he’s talking to the Roomba."
Note- Roomba is charging in Tommy’s room while we have guests.
Dad: "He doesn’t like that thing. Let them work it out."
Tommy: "Funny Dad. But not that funny."
This week I’ve been developing a new (old) habit. I’ve been getting up at 3:30am. It feels good. There is a lot to the early bird worm thing. However, I worked hard this week and have worn myself out. At 3:30 am I woke, moaned, and happily went back to sleep to rise at 6am. The deeped extended sleep felt good but its addictive and despite not needing it, I want more! I still don’t use an alarm clock.
Ok. All surfaces in the kitchen have been cleaned. Only the floor remains. Whew! Feels good.
Brought to us by iWon:
Our greatest happiness in life does not depend on the condition of life in which chance has placed us, but is always the result of good conscience, good health, occupation, and freedom in all just pursuits.
– Thomas Jefferson
You know, Mr. Jefferson looks a little bit like Gene Wilder‘s Willy Wonka!
I find this quote interesting because "the condition of life in which chance has placed us" is deplorable right now. Of course "chance" is me in this case. I’m not so certain I live in good conscience now-a-days. We are relatively healthy but I fear that is starting to fade. The poor cannot afford health. Occupation…huh…botched. Freedom? Freedom is for people with money. So what of happiness? We don’t meet TJ’s criteria. We have sustained happiness because we are a strong family but I fear TJ may be on to something.
To give a thorough cleaning of our kitchen consistently takes me 2 hours. I’m an hour and fifteen minutes into it and about halfway done.
Today is the last of day of school. As the year wore on, Sarah left the house progressively later and later without a care on whether or not she missed the bus. Today she left earlier than she has left all year. She carries only 3 nalgene water bottles
Obligation is keeping me from preparing for Noah’s party as I would like. I know he is going to have a blast even if the only thing we were to do was have his friends over. Naturally we are doing more than that but weather is threatening to interfere with our plans. I want to do so much better for him.
Dean was correct. And thanks for the reminder!. I’ve been franticly trying to please my clients. Up at 3:30am and asleep sometime between 10pm and midnight. The rest of the day is work work work with necessary breaks to meet family need. However! I wanted to get one Lost note in from last week.
All the reviews I read were good. I think some people wrongly assess the episode as light. I found it a very necessary and connecting piece. Some of the characters have gone directions that I never expected. Locke was so strong in season one and season two has given him a beating but don’t we all go through that in life? We have our strong moments then we have our times of weakness where no matter how hard we try things don’t seem to go our way. Before I commented on this I had wanted to watch the episode again. Time didn’t permit so here is my comment that I only saw one person so lightly touch on…
Is Charlie working with The Others? Bringing the medicine to Claire was too convenient. It was also wrong. If you medical equipment like that wouldn’t you take it to the doctor instead of to a new born?! And to say he knows it doesn’t hurt because he has tried it is almost admitting that he is getting shots. I seriously doubt the vials would have such specific instructions. If you were among The Others or whomever the medicine is intended, you would be briefed on why and how to use it. Does that make Desmond an Other? The directions are specific to Claire. Charlie did not find the medicine! He was instructed to deliver it.
I am very much looking forward to tonight’s episode!