Reality Me

Category: Daily Life

Ramblings, often stream of conscious, journaling the events of my life.

  • Nintendo DS Download Station is very cool

    So, I read about the DS Download Station and thought it to be a good idea. It is "try before you buy" for DS games. I walk into Best Buy and the employees are confused. Finally we get one in the know and we stand in front of an endcap of games. There is a tiny sign with instructions. Apparently the wireless equipment is buried inside the endcap (they should make this a little more obvious). So, you turn on your DS and wirelessly connect to, um, the endcap and get a selection of games. You choose one and it begins downloading. As long as you don’t walk more than 15 feet from the endcap you get the game. Once it is 100% downloaded you can walk away and play the game until you power off the DS or twelve hours elapses.

    The only downside is that right now they only offer 7 games for trial. I love the concept! Noah has been playing the game we downloaded last night all day long. No more spending $50 to find out that they don’t like the game.

    Update:The XBox 360 also allows for downloading demos at the store.

  • From the mouths of babes

    This goes hand in hand with my earlier post.

    Dad, asking nicely: "Why are you crying?"
    Sarah: sits silently with chin on fist
    Dad, asking nicely: "Why are you crying?"
    Sarah: sits silently with chin on fist
    Dad, becoming frustrated and gruff: "Why are you crying?"
    Sarah: "Because you won’t let me tell you why I am crying!"
    Dad: blink. blink.

  • Juggling for health

    Last night I made it to the Knoxville Jugglers Club! It has literally been years. What a pleasure! The group has very talented jugglers so we were able to feed clubs (multple jugglers all passing clubs to a single person), 3 person run-a-round (a crazy aerobic club passing routine), passing of 6 7 and 8 clubs, and other assorted fun.

    The club meets 2 Tuesdays a month at the downtown YMCA. Resisting the urge to sing was hard. Man what a building! I must go back with a camera. I felt like I’d jumped back in time with the dark, hardwood basketball courts, polished block design building with inlaid marble, stairs that look like they belong in ancient government buildings, and narrow staircases that make you think you are going to a maintenance area but really lead to a track that looks like the set of Roller Derby. The track honestly doesn’t look like people should run on it, instead something motorized should be speeding around it.

    The hour and a half of juggling did wonders for stress relief and my body, albeit slightly sore, is thankful for the exercise.

    Remember to mark your calenders, I will be juggling at Children’s Mental Health Week Day at the Zoo, April 29 from noon to 1:00pm.

  • Failing Dad

    Cathy and I bill ourselves as "approachable parents." We want our children to feel comfortable approaching us on any topic including sex, drugs, and so forth. Apparently there is something at a genetic level that keeps children from talking to parents.

    Sarah is currently in honors math. I am proud that she excels. Sarah yesterday brought home a note explaining that she will not be invited into Algebra I because she has failed her last 6 tests and told the teacher she "doesn’t want to be in Algebra I." Throughout the past grading period I’ve constantly asked, "how are you doing?" only to be told "fine." My trust has been betrayed. I neglected to talk to the teachers and get regular reports on Sarah. I let her down but the onus is not completely upon me. I cannot help those that do not seek help. I all but begged her to ask for help and she hid her test results from us.

    Repercussions? 1) Severely limited extracurricular activities in the 8th grade until she shows responsibility and caring about her studies. 2) Much more parent/teacher communication next year. 3) Calendar planning skills to be enforced.

  • Things you don’t want to hear

    Dad, I thought it was just going to be a poot.

  • Touch the puppet head

    So Amy, Evan and Cathy are heading to the zoo to visit with Aunt Carmen, Gabriel and Abby. This will be Evan’s first trip and Amy is bouncing off the walls. I am dying to go! This afternoon/evening we have Sarah needing to be picked up from afterschool activities, Noah needing to be dropped off then picked up from Karate, and Cathy has a meeting at the same time as the Juggling Club. If I attend the Juggling Club I can enlist another juggler to help me at this year’s CMHW Zoo event (Saturday, April 29 from 10am-2pm – I perform from 12-1).

    These choices give me ulcers. Had I woken when I wanted I could have accomplished enough work to feel justified in taking some time at the zoo today but I didn’t. I don’t want to make Cathy skip her meeting but the juggling is good therapy and I’ve wanted a 2nd juggler to attend the CHMW event for years. I’m going to skip the zoo, work hard today, and juggle tonight.

  • From the mouths of babes

    Tommy: "Mom. Why are bubbles coming out of the wardrobe?"

  • Baby Talk

    So when Evan, 10 months, shoves his pacifier in my mouth, do you think he is telling me he doesn’t want to sleep?

  • From the mouths of babes

    Tommy: "As soon as I live alone, I’m going to pour to much cereal in my bowl. I don’t care how you teach me."

  • One of my mantras

    I am certain the children will tire of hearing this one day: "People who complain without offering solutions are just making noise."

  • Climbing

    Sarah, the deprived, is off to go rock climbing today with her church group. I found out as I dropped her off that I could have gone along and participated. That would have been a pleasure but might have put a damper on Sarah’s never ending search for independence. If it is too rainy, they will switch to hiking. I am happy to see her participating in such great outdoor activities!

  • Storms brewing

    Storms are brewing both physically and euphemistically. Expect us to be without power in a few hours. The storms last weekend set a tree leaning precariously over the powerlines at the end of the street and the power company refused to do anything about it.

  • My Life…

    …is often like the beginning part of a Calgon commercial.

  • My Son Quit Eating

    Years ago my cooking skills were improving. I was toying with more gourmet type means and decorating my plates with garnishes to coordinate with the table center piece. Enter the children. I’m reduced to mac n cheese, chicken nuggets, peanut butter and jelly, and hamburgers. Ketchup goes on everything.

    We further complicate things with the children’s eating habits. Tommy is a 15 year old garbage disposal that doesn’t eat spinnach. Sarah is a 12 year old wannabe vegetarian. Noah is a 9 year old carnivore. Amy is a 3 year old wannabe Sarah (that is, she would eat anything and still tries but adores her siste so much that she copies Sarah). Evan is a 10 month old breastfeeder that so far eats almost anything places in his mouth (including all the things Amy has fed him: Cheatoes, peanut butter, jelly, poptarts, yogurt, chocolate, etc.), except when he’s sick.

    I thought eating habits were improving. For awhile he was trying new things. In the past he would make this huge production about gagging and having to chase down the miscule sampling that we would let him get away with trying. For instance, we allowed him a single grain of rice and he spent nearly a minute acting like he was going to throw up. One day his progress suddenly reversed. Instead of trying new things, foods to which he had grown accustomed suddenly started dropping off the menu. Jelly became evil so PBJs became just peanut butter sandwiches. The staple green bean, the one vegetable I could get everyone to eat, became a gagging fight to get down; now he gets a single green bean on every plate and won’t touch it. Noah eats no, zero, zilch vegetables.

    This week breakfast changed. Noah has reduced his breakfast to a single slice of toast with cinnamon sugar on it. I have no words. I hope he grows out of this.

  • Names on my brain

    Larry and Carla Hood