When we wanted to move out of our house in Athens 5 years ago, we ended up buying the last house we saw on the first day searching in Charlotte. The wife was asleep in the realtor's van when the bump of the driveway woke her up. She looked at the house and said, "This is the one we're going to buy." Just to make sure, we checked the inside and it was pretty awesome. Sure, the kitchen is too small and cheap for my tastes. The laundry is in the basement so you carry clothes up and down two flights. But it had everything else we wanted.
There were some other things we learned about the house in the years we've lived in it. Some good, some bad, but the best feature I discovered since having a son is the proximity to a creek. Our neighborhood is separated from a local park by a few hundred yards of woods and there are tons of trails back through there, including a wood bridge over a small creek. It takes us 10 minutes to walk back there and Owen LOVES the woods and the creek. We've been going down to the creek during Lily's nap time for an hour or so about 2 or 3 times a week recently.
The creek is perfect for him. It's only a few inches deep and fairly open with a couple of perfectly sized obstacles in it. None of the fallen logs are too high to climb over. The brush isn't too thick to get through, but it's a challenge he can handle. The sand isn't too rough and very few rocks. There are tons of bugs, we've seen frogs and minnows, and the water is nice and cool in the hot weather. I've always been worried about him falling over or not listening, but it really is some of the best time we spend together since it's one on one and we're doing boy stuff. I finally trusted him enough to bring our chocolate lab Bella with us down to the creek today. He was so funny. Calling her, telling her to come back, basically parroting me any time I said anything to her. I taught him the joy of picking up a random stick, holding it out to get the dog excited, then throwing it.
Sure, he can't throw it very far. And he seems to want to throw it directly at the dog, but the dog and the boy are both really happy to be there. I was sitting on the bridge this afternoon watching this and just happy as could be. I know, this is a rather sappy post.
But, I will tell you something I learned today. When a boy baby pees with his diaper off, you're likely to get hit in the face. I thought it was much safer when a girl baby pees with her diaper off. Until I found out the pee forms a puddle around her feet, then she giggles and takes off running. Yes, our upstairs now sports a few baby footprint-shaped pee stains.
CK
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Playground Stereotypes
We have spent a lot of time at various playgrounds around the house. I definitely have a couple of clear favorites. I hate the one closest to our house for excessive lack of shade and their giant sandbox that both my kids want to spend all the time in getting dirty and not using much energy. The next closest is pretty awesome with a big mulched area and lots of big oak trees for shade, no sandbox. I'm also pretty fond of the newest one, though it's a little further from us. It's built like a big tree and has a bunch of slides, ladders, and rope ladders to play on. He loves it and Lily does pretty well there too, even though she's not big enough to climb anything yet. Well, Owen loves running around the outside wall of that particular playground, but that's close enough.
One of the things I have noticed is that there are some regulars I see almost every time I go to the playground. Not necessarily the same people, but I see the same types of people and I will attempt to describe them here.
The Texter
This person is really EVERYWHERE, but the texter is usually sitting in the most prime spot for keeping an eye on the whole playground. But they aren't watching their kids, they are on their smart phone the whole time. They'll look up in the event of screaming, but it's probably 98% staring at the phone. Men are usually texters as a whole (especially on weekends), but there are some women who fall into this group. I have fallen into this category occasionally. Speaking of fallen, I once received an important call about a project being closed out and my son attempted to fall 5 feet from the monkey bars. Luckily, I know my son well enough to understand he is clumsy and had my arm around him while chatting with the state regulator when he fell. Now, he falls from the monkey bars quite regularly and I let him. He at least knows to fall on his ample bottom. Just when I was trusting my son enough to become the texter, my little girl wants to stand 5 feet up on the equipment and I have to pay close attention.
The Gossiper
This is almost exclusively the domain of the ladies. I'm not talking about idle conversation while kids chase each other in circles, I'm talking about the ones who corner you or hijack a conversation to discuss medical issues, what's wrong with your child, or to pontificate on parenting. I made the mistake of engaging a gossiper and found out she was pregnant with another kid, suffering from gestational diabetes, and was constantly constipated. Thanks. Why did Owen pick this moment to play quietly in front of me instead of running like crazy and making me chase him, thereby providing an escape?
Another instance was a Mom that cornered another lady and we went over to the swings specifically to avoid overhearing more about the difficulties conceiving. Eventually, her unsupervised 4 year old came over to the swing area and was walking in front of kids. After about the third time I had to grab Lily to stop my child's foot from concussing this little angel, I told her to watch out for the kids swinging so she wouldn't get whacked. She replied with, "You're not my Mommy." Okay, no more warnings. It was about 2 minutes before a big kid caught her on the backswing. There was screaming, gossip Mom came over mad and yelled at the big kid, and I chuckled on the inside. I almost told the gossipy Mom what happened, but I didn't want to get stuck listening to her.
I recognize that I am often guilty of excessive parenting talk in the presence of male friends. I will try not to talk about parenting and will endeavor to convey more stories in which Owen does hilarious things.
The Hoverer
I would categorize myself in this category most of the time. We follow the kids around at a safe distance to make sure they aren't face planting or walking into the midst of the swings. I try to let Owen play while keeping eyes on him. It doesn't always stop him from falling 5 feet and whacking his head on mulch, but I can at least contain him to the playground area and prevent him from escaping into traffic or the woods. I don't want to get too much in his face or prevent opportunities to play with kids his own age. I suppose I could also call this guy 'The Stalker' because I probably look creepy following small children around the playground. Most of the time I am following an exact copy of myself at 1/3 scale so it's not too bad.
The Big Kid
I'm a little bit in this category when the playground is empty. Owen needs someone to play with and I am that guy. I try to back off when it's crowded because I don't want to get in the way of a bunch of kids. I'm also slightly larger than the person most playgrounds are designed for and I would definitely have to take off my shoes to count the number of times I have whacked my head on a hard piece of equipment. Most of the other adults there don't appreciate my yelling "$%#!" in front of the kids.
The Terrible Parent
Exceptionally rare, this creature make me scratch my head and wonder how many times their children will need to be locked up. I can think of two examples.
1. We pulled up to a playground and I unloaded the kids. About the same time a mini-van pulled up and 3 kids, roughly ages 4 to 7 piled out. This particular playground is about 200 feet from the parking area and it's really difficult to see what's going on at the playground at that distance. The parent never got out of the ACed van. After about 20 minutes at the playground, we left because the kids were holy terrors. They were bossy, shoving other kids out of the way, and generally unpleasant. The parent never left the car. Come on.
2. We were at a playground shortly after lunchtime and there were two Moms there. One of the Mom's had stopped at Chick fil-A and the other had gone to Taco Bell. Granted, neither are great healthy options and my son ate McDonalds as recently as this past Monday so not really a big deal. But there was a 2 year old that was huge. I watched her eat a full chicken sandwich, waffle fries, a taco, cinnamon twirls, potato chips, popcorn, at least two juice boxes, and they were going to go get ice cream after the playground. I was able to watch her eat all this because she wouldn't go up any stairs or ladders. This girl was shorter than Owen and at least his weight. Come on.
Really, as long as you're not the terrible parent, your kid isn't beating up others, and there's no screaming, you're fine.
CK
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Discipline
We have a 3 and a half year old living in our home. Or a hardened felon with a rap sheet a mile long. Sometimes I'm not really sure. When he was 18 months old, he would get upset about everything, but we kind of figured that would be the case. Everything revolved around him, he wanted what he wanted immediately, and he didn't have a grasp on the English language. Which is pretty much what happens now, because he gets so upset, he forgets to annunciate during his whining. It definitely helped that we taught Owen some basic sign language, so he could tell us he wanted milk, that he wanted to go to sleep, etc. His terrible twos weren't really that bad. It was just the 6 months or so right before he turned 2.
But when he turned 3...WOW. Where did my adorable little chubby toddler go? Now I have a surly, non-sharing, walking time bomb. See my post entitled So THIS Is Age 3? and you get a good idea of the bad days. We'll often go a couple of days without needing a timeout, then knock out about 3 timeouts in an hour. This is totally my fault. Not due to bad parent, it's my fault genetically. I was the little boy getting into trouble for peeing in the neighbors yard. I was the little boy getting into trouble for walking out the front door and riding my big wheel around the neighborhood. When I was in kindergarten or first grade, I vaguely remember being told not to use a knife to cut some sort of fruit, so I got a knife and promptly sliced my finger requiring a trip to the doctor. But I would NEVER have hit my sister like Owen does. My parents (and my sister) might tell you differently. Ask the wife's Mom about her behavior and a child and you would be hard pressed to find a more perfect little angel. The wife once told her Mom to warn her if Mom was about to yell so she could behave and avoid getting yelled at. Owen clearly takes after Daddy.
We're using the timeout system for discipline. It's pretty straightforward and has been somewhat effective. You put the kid in timeout using the special timeout chair in a boring area of the house. You get down on the child's level, explain what they did wrong, and tell them they'll be in timeout for x minutes. X being the age of the child. If the kid leaves timeout, you put them back in timeout and restart the clock. After the timeout ends, you get down on their level again to reiterate why they were in timeout and tell them to say sorry to any offended parties. Last, tell them how much you love them and give a big hug. Owen is a world champion timeout sitter. He is usually patient, and very rarely leaves timeout in the middle. Now that he knows the process, he gives you an appropriate sad look, utters a contrite sorry, and then gives the world's biggest hug. Maybe he gets himself in timeout just for the hug.
In the last couple of months, his acting out has gotten worse. A few times he's even looked right at me and done what I just told him not to do. We do a lot of timeouts for bad listening. A LOT. I took a stand at my parent's neighborhood pool a few weeks ago for a string of really bad listening decisions over about 4 minutes. Including the first time he gave me a look I wanted to wipe off his face. Finally, we just left the pool 10 minutes after he got there. Tons of screaming, but I will not have bad listening at the pool or on the lake where he can drown for bad listening. I'm sure he'll listen to me next time, or we'll leave again.
We've also done several timeouts for hitting his sister. This has been the biggest discipline issue we've faced. It's just not okay to hit his sister, or really anyone else for that matter. I was yelling at him, he knows it's automatic timeout, but he just can't help himself when his sister goes to play with his train table. No one, not no one, destroys Owen's train tables except Owen.
In addition to hitting his sister, he randomly hit a little boy at Bounce U one morning. I snapped him out of the bounce house by one arm and got into his face. He had to apologize to the other little boy, the little boy's mommy, and me. I was putting his shoes on him and told him we were going home because he hit someone. There was screaming, crying, a timeout, and I relented, warning him that another hit and we would never come back to Bounce U. He was good, but I kind of regret backing out on the consequence.
That didn't end the hitting problem., there have been a few more problems, mostly with his sister. I've seen other little kids hit him, but he's been good about not hitting back. With the exception of one overwhelmed Mommy with newborn twins, all the other parents of hitting kids have acted to stop their hitters in their tracks. We haven't had a hitting incident in a few weeks, maybe because the last time Owen hit his sister, I got in his face and we had a come to Jesus moment. Basically, I used a voice that can only be achieved by a father. It's basically the calmest, angriest, I mean business tone you can possibly use. To put it in writing is hard, but here goes: "HITTING YOUR SISTER IS NEVER OKAY AND IT NEEDS TO STOP RIGHT NOW." Didn't know I could achieve that voice and I like to think he will never hit his sister again. Ha!
I never thought I would be a proponent of spanking, but understand its use. I had a couple of times I needed to be spanked, and it definitely made me a better person. The wife NEVER even came close to earning a spanking, the goody two shoes. She is definitely against it. I'm torn, it seems like a watershed moment that would stop a bad behavior, but as the wife will say, "It's never okay to hit, now I'm going to hit you as punishment." I tend to agree with her there, but I think we're going to have to discuss this again soon for something else.
It led me to ask my parents for advice. They're the perfect parents for this question. They have a son that's about 2 and a half years older than their daughter, like me. They spanked a few times, but never abusive. So, I asked them, "How did you get me to stop hitting my sister, even if she deserved it?" My Dad's answer was classic. "Once your sister learned to hit back, you stopped." Perfect, Lily starts karate tomorrow.
CK
But when he turned 3...WOW. Where did my adorable little chubby toddler go? Now I have a surly, non-sharing, walking time bomb. See my post entitled So THIS Is Age 3? and you get a good idea of the bad days. We'll often go a couple of days without needing a timeout, then knock out about 3 timeouts in an hour. This is totally my fault. Not due to bad parent, it's my fault genetically. I was the little boy getting into trouble for peeing in the neighbors yard. I was the little boy getting into trouble for walking out the front door and riding my big wheel around the neighborhood. When I was in kindergarten or first grade, I vaguely remember being told not to use a knife to cut some sort of fruit, so I got a knife and promptly sliced my finger requiring a trip to the doctor. But I would NEVER have hit my sister like Owen does. My parents (and my sister) might tell you differently. Ask the wife's Mom about her behavior and a child and you would be hard pressed to find a more perfect little angel. The wife once told her Mom to warn her if Mom was about to yell so she could behave and avoid getting yelled at. Owen clearly takes after Daddy.
We're using the timeout system for discipline. It's pretty straightforward and has been somewhat effective. You put the kid in timeout using the special timeout chair in a boring area of the house. You get down on the child's level, explain what they did wrong, and tell them they'll be in timeout for x minutes. X being the age of the child. If the kid leaves timeout, you put them back in timeout and restart the clock. After the timeout ends, you get down on their level again to reiterate why they were in timeout and tell them to say sorry to any offended parties. Last, tell them how much you love them and give a big hug. Owen is a world champion timeout sitter. He is usually patient, and very rarely leaves timeout in the middle. Now that he knows the process, he gives you an appropriate sad look, utters a contrite sorry, and then gives the world's biggest hug. Maybe he gets himself in timeout just for the hug.
In the last couple of months, his acting out has gotten worse. A few times he's even looked right at me and done what I just told him not to do. We do a lot of timeouts for bad listening. A LOT. I took a stand at my parent's neighborhood pool a few weeks ago for a string of really bad listening decisions over about 4 minutes. Including the first time he gave me a look I wanted to wipe off his face. Finally, we just left the pool 10 minutes after he got there. Tons of screaming, but I will not have bad listening at the pool or on the lake where he can drown for bad listening. I'm sure he'll listen to me next time, or we'll leave again.
We've also done several timeouts for hitting his sister. This has been the biggest discipline issue we've faced. It's just not okay to hit his sister, or really anyone else for that matter. I was yelling at him, he knows it's automatic timeout, but he just can't help himself when his sister goes to play with his train table. No one, not no one, destroys Owen's train tables except Owen.
In addition to hitting his sister, he randomly hit a little boy at Bounce U one morning. I snapped him out of the bounce house by one arm and got into his face. He had to apologize to the other little boy, the little boy's mommy, and me. I was putting his shoes on him and told him we were going home because he hit someone. There was screaming, crying, a timeout, and I relented, warning him that another hit and we would never come back to Bounce U. He was good, but I kind of regret backing out on the consequence.
That didn't end the hitting problem., there have been a few more problems, mostly with his sister. I've seen other little kids hit him, but he's been good about not hitting back. With the exception of one overwhelmed Mommy with newborn twins, all the other parents of hitting kids have acted to stop their hitters in their tracks. We haven't had a hitting incident in a few weeks, maybe because the last time Owen hit his sister, I got in his face and we had a come to Jesus moment. Basically, I used a voice that can only be achieved by a father. It's basically the calmest, angriest, I mean business tone you can possibly use. To put it in writing is hard, but here goes: "HITTING YOUR SISTER IS NEVER OKAY AND IT NEEDS TO STOP RIGHT NOW." Didn't know I could achieve that voice and I like to think he will never hit his sister again. Ha!
I never thought I would be a proponent of spanking, but understand its use. I had a couple of times I needed to be spanked, and it definitely made me a better person. The wife NEVER even came close to earning a spanking, the goody two shoes. She is definitely against it. I'm torn, it seems like a watershed moment that would stop a bad behavior, but as the wife will say, "It's never okay to hit, now I'm going to hit you as punishment." I tend to agree with her there, but I think we're going to have to discuss this again soon for something else.
It led me to ask my parents for advice. They're the perfect parents for this question. They have a son that's about 2 and a half years older than their daughter, like me. They spanked a few times, but never abusive. So, I asked them, "How did you get me to stop hitting my sister, even if she deserved it?" My Dad's answer was classic. "Once your sister learned to hit back, you stopped." Perfect, Lily starts karate tomorrow.
CK
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Guest Post from Andrea H.
Some friends of ours, Jason and Andrea, recently moved to Greenville, SC when Jason landed a sexy new job. I thought Andrea's situation was interesting and asked her to write a post for my blog. The rest of this post is her writing.
After being approached by a friend to document the last few months of being a working parent that transitioned to being a SAHM and then back to the work place, I am finding that as I look back I think I was more overwhelmed as a SAHM than working. First let me explain how I got here…
SAHM Era
So here we are...in Greenville. Not Charleston. I was officially in my very own restaurant in my head waiting for a table. “Bitter, party of one, your table is now ready…”
So began my journey from a well organized, working mom that had a million balls in the air to…nothing. No umpteen places to run errands to, no daycares to drop kids off, no friends to hang out with, no kids….OMG no kids to entertain MY KID! Here I was in our temporary apartment until we found a house and there are no kids. No families to play in the cul de sac with. I was officially in panic mode.
I immediately reassessed and thought, “Ok, no biggie. Let’s go to where kids congregate!” We went to parks, the zoo, the playground at the apartment complex, to different stores…and nada. I couldn’t find ANY kids. Of course it was February, but it was mild. It was in the 60’s. WHERE are the kids!?! This mommy was going to go a little nutty if she had to listen to any more Dora, My Little Pony, or Princesses singing. Not to mention if I had to play any more of these games that went no where….She would say, “Mommy, play with your pony!” I would excitedly pick one up thinking, “Where are we going today? Shall we save a pony from the evil queen? Shall we have pony races? How about sending them on a scavenger hunt for a treasure like on Dora?” Instead I would get, “Hi. What’s your name? Shutterfly? That’s pretty……Hi, What’s your name?” There was no getting her off of this. Round and round we would go. I NEEDED KIDS. And another mommy would have been awesome too. Only talking to a preschooler and a husband that didn’t understand that I only had him for adult time was just plain getting hard.
And then it happened. I took her to the Children’s Museum. Guaranteed kids. Unless it’s field trip day for all the older kids and they run amok and scare away all the kids under 5. Only I have this kind of timing. Well, I was not going down without a fight. I took her to the under 5 area. It’s really cute. It’s set up like a farm with a child size farmhouse to play in and even a fake cow you can milk. Perfect! I locked us in (it came complete with a picket fence and a gate), kicked out anyone over the age of 5, sat down in a rocking chair and waited. They were going to come to ME, darn it.
I feel sorry for the first mom I ran into. I don’t even remember her name, but her number is somewhere in my phone. I nearly tackled her I was so excited to see her and her two kids. Not quite Natalie’s age, but that was OK by me! She was very kind. I know I would have been a bit overwhelmed by me if I was on the receiving end, but she took me and all my excitement well. I got a full hour with her. Our kids didn’t really take to one another, but we all got an outlet.
After that we slowly started figuring out where to go, which mom’s I wouldn’t scare away, and built a routine/life. I was suddenly a prepared mom again. I had snacks on demand, planned dinners that I actually cooked (turns out I’m a pretty good chef! Who knew??) and a kid that I was able to entertain in most instances. We even spent a total of four hours at the DMV and it was a pleasant experience if you can imagine that! I was still looking for jobs, and I had even found a recruiter! He was searching for positions for me and I am certain I drove him crazy. It could be why he stopped returning my calls. It’s ok. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have found the job I have now.
Two months into being a SAHM mom I finally got the interview for my current position. Mind you I was about 4 months pregnant. Not quite showing, but suspiciously big in the belly. I did my darndest to not look down, and worked to impress the pants off the hiring manager. It worked. I got the offer. OH CRAP. I GOT THE OFFER. I had JUST settled into the life of making sure my darling daughter was stimulated but not too stimulated, had one or two friends with other SAHM’s, and I had gotten past the dreaded first trimester and was on the very comfortable road of my second. Now what do I do??
Back to Work
Getting organized and finding clothes that fit was priority numero uno. So I went shopping, got my hair done (who needs that when you aren’t working??), and started prepping the wee one about going back to preschool (it’s called preschool here…well the good ones are). By the way, there is no prepping a 3 year old about preschool. Or another baby for that matter.
Case in point included one morning where my husband was dropping her off and they had this little chat:
Child: **Yawn** Where do these yawns come from, Daddy?”
Dad: They come from Mommy, you’re just as good at mornings as she is.”
Child: Oh good, I’ll say ‘thank you’ to her. “
Daddy: “Don’t worry, I already did.”
Once a good preschool was selected (the hubs still asserts that I just Google searched 'most expensive daycare in Greenville County'), I comfortably went back to the world of work. I had adult time…lots of it. About 8 (or more!) hours a day of it. Down time in the car between drop off and going in to the office, and oh yeah. Work. I tested systems and applications to make sure I had access, got a badge to get in the building, and even got the opportunity peruse what needed to be done (aka…look at the work I got hired to do). So far it’s been a pretty pleasant experience. I feel back in my element. I like being challenged, organized (here and at home), places to run to, the steady stream of birthday party invites that come with a group of kids that are my kids age at these marvelous places called preschools, and of course having that sense of normalcy I had before we left Charlotte. We are almost there. We are building an even nicer home, in a great neighborhood with super nice neighbors and TONS of kids. The new kid should be here just about the time the house is ready. Fingers crossed that doesn’t start a whole new year of craziness…eh. Who am I kidding? A newborn and a three year old? Expect another blog entry in t-minus 12 months. Provided I can find the laptop under all the baby stuff.
Andrea
After being approached by a friend to document the last few months of being a working parent that transitioned to being a SAHM and then back to the work place, I am finding that as I look back I think I was more overwhelmed as a SAHM than working. First let me explain how I got here…
Before
My husband and I were both working full time at the same bank in Charlotte, NC and we had a pretty good routine worked out. I picked up and dropped off our little jelly bean on my way to work, and usually my husband got home before me which means he got dinner started. We had fantastic neighbors that we worked into great friendships, and their kids got along with ours. We had fun play dates set up with all of the friends I had made in the last 15 years of living in one area that had also started families. Our daughter was thriving – learning a ton at daycare, have loving, doting parents, an awesome house, and lots of friends. Basically, it was all we could ask for…probably more.
Then life changed drastically. It all changed because we went to Charleston on our family vacation and fell in love. We thought, “Hey! Let’s move here! We can easily make a life here if we find jobs.” Once back home, my husband jumped online and started looking for a job. He found one at the first place he looked and applied. Amazingly the recruiter called that afternoon and said, “Are ya married to Charleston? If not, I think you would be an even better fit in Greenville, SC.” After a round of interviews and three weeks later, he had a new job. In Greenville. That isn’t in Charleston, or anywhere close for that matter; just in case you aren’t from around these parts.
My job wouldn’t work with me so I had to say goodbye to that, but before I left I was in charge of being a full time single working mommy during the week while my husband lived in Greenville. I was also in charge of taking care of the house (which rented quickly!), moving in with family until the official move, and smiling while doing it pregnant. Oh yeah, did I mention I got pregnant during all of this?? If you know of anyone that has ever been pregnant, or been pregnant yourself, just think of that first trimester of madness. Morning sickness that doesn’t just happen in the morning, exhaustion, bloating, and food aversions are only some of what I went through. I couldn’t wait to just get to Greenville so I could have some help from the hubs and we could have one leg of our journey behind us.
My husband and I were both working full time at the same bank in Charlotte, NC and we had a pretty good routine worked out. I picked up and dropped off our little jelly bean on my way to work, and usually my husband got home before me which means he got dinner started. We had fantastic neighbors that we worked into great friendships, and their kids got along with ours. We had fun play dates set up with all of the friends I had made in the last 15 years of living in one area that had also started families. Our daughter was thriving – learning a ton at daycare, have loving, doting parents, an awesome house, and lots of friends. Basically, it was all we could ask for…probably more.
Then life changed drastically. It all changed because we went to Charleston on our family vacation and fell in love. We thought, “Hey! Let’s move here! We can easily make a life here if we find jobs.” Once back home, my husband jumped online and started looking for a job. He found one at the first place he looked and applied. Amazingly the recruiter called that afternoon and said, “Are ya married to Charleston? If not, I think you would be an even better fit in Greenville, SC.” After a round of interviews and three weeks later, he had a new job. In Greenville. That isn’t in Charleston, or anywhere close for that matter; just in case you aren’t from around these parts.
My job wouldn’t work with me so I had to say goodbye to that, but before I left I was in charge of being a full time single working mommy during the week while my husband lived in Greenville. I was also in charge of taking care of the house (which rented quickly!), moving in with family until the official move, and smiling while doing it pregnant. Oh yeah, did I mention I got pregnant during all of this?? If you know of anyone that has ever been pregnant, or been pregnant yourself, just think of that first trimester of madness. Morning sickness that doesn’t just happen in the morning, exhaustion, bloating, and food aversions are only some of what I went through. I couldn’t wait to just get to Greenville so I could have some help from the hubs and we could have one leg of our journey behind us.
SAHM Era
So here we are...in Greenville. Not Charleston. I was officially in my very own restaurant in my head waiting for a table. “Bitter, party of one, your table is now ready…”
So began my journey from a well organized, working mom that had a million balls in the air to…nothing. No umpteen places to run errands to, no daycares to drop kids off, no friends to hang out with, no kids….OMG no kids to entertain MY KID! Here I was in our temporary apartment until we found a house and there are no kids. No families to play in the cul de sac with. I was officially in panic mode.
I immediately reassessed and thought, “Ok, no biggie. Let’s go to where kids congregate!” We went to parks, the zoo, the playground at the apartment complex, to different stores…and nada. I couldn’t find ANY kids. Of course it was February, but it was mild. It was in the 60’s. WHERE are the kids!?! This mommy was going to go a little nutty if she had to listen to any more Dora, My Little Pony, or Princesses singing. Not to mention if I had to play any more of these games that went no where….She would say, “Mommy, play with your pony!” I would excitedly pick one up thinking, “Where are we going today? Shall we save a pony from the evil queen? Shall we have pony races? How about sending them on a scavenger hunt for a treasure like on Dora?” Instead I would get, “Hi. What’s your name? Shutterfly? That’s pretty……Hi, What’s your name?” There was no getting her off of this. Round and round we would go. I NEEDED KIDS. And another mommy would have been awesome too. Only talking to a preschooler and a husband that didn’t understand that I only had him for adult time was just plain getting hard.
And then it happened. I took her to the Children’s Museum. Guaranteed kids. Unless it’s field trip day for all the older kids and they run amok and scare away all the kids under 5. Only I have this kind of timing. Well, I was not going down without a fight. I took her to the under 5 area. It’s really cute. It’s set up like a farm with a child size farmhouse to play in and even a fake cow you can milk. Perfect! I locked us in (it came complete with a picket fence and a gate), kicked out anyone over the age of 5, sat down in a rocking chair and waited. They were going to come to ME, darn it.
I feel sorry for the first mom I ran into. I don’t even remember her name, but her number is somewhere in my phone. I nearly tackled her I was so excited to see her and her two kids. Not quite Natalie’s age, but that was OK by me! She was very kind. I know I would have been a bit overwhelmed by me if I was on the receiving end, but she took me and all my excitement well. I got a full hour with her. Our kids didn’t really take to one another, but we all got an outlet.
After that we slowly started figuring out where to go, which mom’s I wouldn’t scare away, and built a routine/life. I was suddenly a prepared mom again. I had snacks on demand, planned dinners that I actually cooked (turns out I’m a pretty good chef! Who knew??) and a kid that I was able to entertain in most instances. We even spent a total of four hours at the DMV and it was a pleasant experience if you can imagine that! I was still looking for jobs, and I had even found a recruiter! He was searching for positions for me and I am certain I drove him crazy. It could be why he stopped returning my calls. It’s ok. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have found the job I have now.
Two months into being a SAHM mom I finally got the interview for my current position. Mind you I was about 4 months pregnant. Not quite showing, but suspiciously big in the belly. I did my darndest to not look down, and worked to impress the pants off the hiring manager. It worked. I got the offer. OH CRAP. I GOT THE OFFER. I had JUST settled into the life of making sure my darling daughter was stimulated but not too stimulated, had one or two friends with other SAHM’s, and I had gotten past the dreaded first trimester and was on the very comfortable road of my second. Now what do I do??
Back to Work
Getting organized and finding clothes that fit was priority numero uno. So I went shopping, got my hair done (who needs that when you aren’t working??), and started prepping the wee one about going back to preschool (it’s called preschool here…well the good ones are). By the way, there is no prepping a 3 year old about preschool. Or another baby for that matter.
Case in point included one morning where my husband was dropping her off and they had this little chat:
Child: **Yawn** Where do these yawns come from, Daddy?”
Dad: They come from Mommy, you’re just as good at mornings as she is.”
Child: Oh good, I’ll say ‘thank you’ to her. “
Daddy: “Don’t worry, I already did.”
Once a good preschool was selected (the hubs still asserts that I just Google searched 'most expensive daycare in Greenville County'), I comfortably went back to the world of work. I had adult time…lots of it. About 8 (or more!) hours a day of it. Down time in the car between drop off and going in to the office, and oh yeah. Work. I tested systems and applications to make sure I had access, got a badge to get in the building, and even got the opportunity peruse what needed to be done (aka…look at the work I got hired to do). So far it’s been a pretty pleasant experience. I feel back in my element. I like being challenged, organized (here and at home), places to run to, the steady stream of birthday party invites that come with a group of kids that are my kids age at these marvelous places called preschools, and of course having that sense of normalcy I had before we left Charlotte. We are almost there. We are building an even nicer home, in a great neighborhood with super nice neighbors and TONS of kids. The new kid should be here just about the time the house is ready. Fingers crossed that doesn’t start a whole new year of craziness…eh. Who am I kidding? A newborn and a three year old? Expect another blog entry in t-minus 12 months. Provided I can find the laptop under all the baby stuff.
Andrea
Monday, July 2, 2012
Dudity
Yes, I know. It's been a while but I have two small children. So neener neener neener.
Several years ago, I coined a word. Well two words, really. The first was steacon. A cross between steak and bacon, something the world's genetic scientists should drop everything they're currently working on and figure out how to mix a pig and a cow. The second word is the title of this post: dudity. To correctly pronounce dudity, think nudity. Wait, don't think about too much nudity...
The reason dudity rhymes with nudity is because it is nudity of a male persuasion. My initial usage was for movies and television to warn you. When you start a movie, it gets a rating like PG13 or R and it contains reasons for the rating. My favorite is comic mischief, but the rating often contains drug use, graphic violence, and, of course, nudity. But a movie should warn you if that nudity is a starlet/Brad Pitt (for the ladies) or if that nudity is Zach Galafanakis or that one horrific scene in Borat. You remember it if you watched Borat. *shiver* That's why I coined dudity with a D. Just a little D at the beginning let's me know to prepare myself for something really unpleasant. So I can look up a movie that my children want to watch and say, "No, you can't go see that, it's got Dudity in it! Go see Toy Story 13." If Land Before Time made it to 13, Toy Story deserves 13 flicks.
So, in fair warning to the general public, I am rating my son PG for Dudity and Comic Mischief. He is constantly pulling his pants off in random places for random reasons. My immediate family and closest friends are aware of this tendency, usually as he's wandering out of the bathroom after making tinkles. But the instances of public displays have seemed to be increasing recently. Just today, we were at the public fountains at Birkdale Village with maybe 15-20 kids running around and about a dozen parents keeping an eye on them. Owen was already in his swim trunks and I told him to take his sandals off. I turned around to help Lily out of her stylish cover up and put the new water shoes on her when I heard dozens of gasps in horror. Okay, it was just me gasping in horror when I turned back to see Owen with sandals on his feet and swim trunks at his ankles. I quickly yanked them back up and sent him off to play.
In the past, he has pulled his pants down in the middle of Lowes Home Improvement, our neighbor's yard (in front of the neighbors), and in the woods at Latta Plantation in front of two of my friends. The ladies at the gym's child watch learned his name quickly by referring to him as "the kid who pulls his pants down to his ankles, THEN shuffles over to the bathroom." Most of the dudity he commits is needing to go to the bathroom related, but I have no clue how to get across that it's really not acceptable to pull your pants off randomly. More acceptable when you need to go potty, but most folks wait until they're in the bathroom. Not to mention he's clumsy enough walking around the planet without having to worry about limited ankle mobility when pants are around them.
Until further notice, Earth, my son should not be viewed by the naked eye. Wait, I mean you shouldn't have to be exposed to...oops, bare with me... Aw, never mind. I'll just get a bunch of shirts that have Ds on the front and back to warn everyone of the dudity coming at 'em.
CK
Several years ago, I coined a word. Well two words, really. The first was steacon. A cross between steak and bacon, something the world's genetic scientists should drop everything they're currently working on and figure out how to mix a pig and a cow. The second word is the title of this post: dudity. To correctly pronounce dudity, think nudity. Wait, don't think about too much nudity...
The reason dudity rhymes with nudity is because it is nudity of a male persuasion. My initial usage was for movies and television to warn you. When you start a movie, it gets a rating like PG13 or R and it contains reasons for the rating. My favorite is comic mischief, but the rating often contains drug use, graphic violence, and, of course, nudity. But a movie should warn you if that nudity is a starlet/Brad Pitt (for the ladies) or if that nudity is Zach Galafanakis or that one horrific scene in Borat. You remember it if you watched Borat. *shiver* That's why I coined dudity with a D. Just a little D at the beginning let's me know to prepare myself for something really unpleasant. So I can look up a movie that my children want to watch and say, "No, you can't go see that, it's got Dudity in it! Go see Toy Story 13." If Land Before Time made it to 13, Toy Story deserves 13 flicks.
So, in fair warning to the general public, I am rating my son PG for Dudity and Comic Mischief. He is constantly pulling his pants off in random places for random reasons. My immediate family and closest friends are aware of this tendency, usually as he's wandering out of the bathroom after making tinkles. But the instances of public displays have seemed to be increasing recently. Just today, we were at the public fountains at Birkdale Village with maybe 15-20 kids running around and about a dozen parents keeping an eye on them. Owen was already in his swim trunks and I told him to take his sandals off. I turned around to help Lily out of her stylish cover up and put the new water shoes on her when I heard dozens of gasps in horror. Okay, it was just me gasping in horror when I turned back to see Owen with sandals on his feet and swim trunks at his ankles. I quickly yanked them back up and sent him off to play.
In the past, he has pulled his pants down in the middle of Lowes Home Improvement, our neighbor's yard (in front of the neighbors), and in the woods at Latta Plantation in front of two of my friends. The ladies at the gym's child watch learned his name quickly by referring to him as "the kid who pulls his pants down to his ankles, THEN shuffles over to the bathroom." Most of the dudity he commits is needing to go to the bathroom related, but I have no clue how to get across that it's really not acceptable to pull your pants off randomly. More acceptable when you need to go potty, but most folks wait until they're in the bathroom. Not to mention he's clumsy enough walking around the planet without having to worry about limited ankle mobility when pants are around them.
Until further notice, Earth, my son should not be viewed by the naked eye. Wait, I mean you shouldn't have to be exposed to...oops, bare with me... Aw, never mind. I'll just get a bunch of shirts that have Ds on the front and back to warn everyone of the dudity coming at 'em.
CK
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Rob Hyde - 2 Months
The second guest post, from a very good longtime friend, Rob Hyde. I haven't met his daughter Olivia yet, but I can't wait to. I was also honored when Rob and his lovely bride asked me to become Olivia's Godfather. We'll be traveling to New Jersey in June for the christening/baptism. I was going to start cracking jokes about Catholics, but then they might not let me be Godfather so I'll keep my mouth shut and put Rob's post below.
When I was asked by my 2 month old
daughter’s Godfather to write a post about being a first time Dad, I really
didn’t know where to begin. We attempted
to prepare ourselves for parenthood in the nine plus months leading up to
D-Day. We prepared Olivia’s room,
purchased diapers and clothes, and went about our days as soon to be parents
with all of the hoopla that comes with it. Now that she’s here, the world has become a very different place. I have been able to summon energy from areas
that I didn’t know energy existed. I
have become excited about poop! And
burps! And Boogers! Everyday is a new experience with
Olivia. She has become fascinated by
ceiling fans. My wife and I can lay her
down on our bed and she will kick and coo to the ceiling fan. She gets really going when we spin the
blades. When the light is on and the
blades are spinning on their own…We have an American Idol winner/soccer star! I’m hoping that this is a sign that she will
be a successful aerospace engineer who designs new jet engines. It amazes me every day how she changes. She is starting to communicate better,
advising when she’s hungry, gassy, or just in need of attention. Her smiles melt my heart, especially when
she’s asleep and dreaming. This
adventure I call parenthood is just getting started and from what I have heard,
it only gets better and better.
 |
| Daddy, let's discuss that sports car stroller. |
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Matt Wiggins - The Before
I thought it would be a good idea to ask some of my friends to write a few guest posts for my blog to get some different points of view. I started with my friend Matt Wiggins because he is about to become a first time father, literally any second. He wrote the following as the 'Before' post and he'll be writing an 'After' once the after happens. One of my best friends on the planet also became a first time Dad a few short weeks ago and he has written a post for me that I will be putting up tomorrow night. I've asked some other folks, and have a few more in mind. I hope you enjoy, the rest of this post is Matt's writing.
As a relocated Ohioan living in the South, I’m still unnerved by people I don’t know smiling at me. Granted, it doesn’t happen all that often (Charlotte is really an annex of Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York), so I was doubly unprepared for all the smiling that started happening when I was out in public with my wife when she was about 6 months into pregnancy. (It only took me a few weeks to realize that they were smiling at her, not me.) There were knowing smiles from veteran moms and dads and sympathetic smiles from other pregnant moms and it was generally a pleasant experience.
Until a week ago. At this point we are only a few days from her due date and the smiles she now gets are nervous, apologetic smiles. For instance, last Saturday we were in the ice cream aisle of the grocery store (where else?) and a young woman and her friend entered the aisle talking to each other and did not notice Lisa’s belly until they were nearly even with us. But when she did, I felt the breeze from her head whipping around. Her raised eyebrows and wide eyes could be easily be translated as saying, “WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE, SHE IS ABOUT TO HAVE THAT BABY RIGHT NOW!” When the baby didn’t pop out a second later, she caught herself and shared that aforementioned nervous, apologetic smile. If we had been thinking ahead, we could probably have gotten parents of teenagers to pay us to visit their house and scare their children into abstinence.
However, that’s not the only change I’ve noticed. Chris and I know each other through the WWII reenacting community and two weekends ago we attended a living history event. Most of the guys there know that Lisa and I are expecting and generally conversation steered towards the topic of our imminent bundle of joy throughout the weekend. This was dramatically different from the reenactment I attended a month before our wedding where the highlight of marital conversation was: “Get out before seven years, after that alimony’s a bitch.” Nope, this time around guys who I have known for years, guys I have spent many hours, if not days, conversing with about guns, tanks, battles, helmets, bayonets, beer, and other manly stuff, suddenly got all googly-eyed and sentimental, whisked away to the birthdays of their own children.
But that’s not the strange part. The strange part is the consistency of their message, especially since it’s not just guys I know from reenacting. I’ve been hearing since our first announcement how “everything’s going to change” and, “It’s the best and hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” In the last few weeks I can add to that: “There’s no way to describe the experience of birth,” and “Sleep as much as you can now.” And I’m not just talking a few guys here and there, I’m talking about dozens. All saying the same things. With the same goofy smiles.
Now when that many different people who don’t know each other keep saying the same things, there are two possibilities. First, it’s a conspiracy to trick unsuspecting expectant fathers into pleasant expectation as some sort of twisted revenge for what other fathers did to them. Or second, there is something incredibly unique and transcendent about fatherhood that goes beyond differences and unites all men into one sacred brotherhood. Actually, that solves it. Just typing that out convinced me it has to be a conspiracy. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.
As a relocated Ohioan living in the South, I’m still unnerved by people I don’t know smiling at me. Granted, it doesn’t happen all that often (Charlotte is really an annex of Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York), so I was doubly unprepared for all the smiling that started happening when I was out in public with my wife when she was about 6 months into pregnancy. (It only took me a few weeks to realize that they were smiling at her, not me.) There were knowing smiles from veteran moms and dads and sympathetic smiles from other pregnant moms and it was generally a pleasant experience.
Until a week ago. At this point we are only a few days from her due date and the smiles she now gets are nervous, apologetic smiles. For instance, last Saturday we were in the ice cream aisle of the grocery store (where else?) and a young woman and her friend entered the aisle talking to each other and did not notice Lisa’s belly until they were nearly even with us. But when she did, I felt the breeze from her head whipping around. Her raised eyebrows and wide eyes could be easily be translated as saying, “WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE, SHE IS ABOUT TO HAVE THAT BABY RIGHT NOW!” When the baby didn’t pop out a second later, she caught herself and shared that aforementioned nervous, apologetic smile. If we had been thinking ahead, we could probably have gotten parents of teenagers to pay us to visit their house and scare their children into abstinence.
However, that’s not the only change I’ve noticed. Chris and I know each other through the WWII reenacting community and two weekends ago we attended a living history event. Most of the guys there know that Lisa and I are expecting and generally conversation steered towards the topic of our imminent bundle of joy throughout the weekend. This was dramatically different from the reenactment I attended a month before our wedding where the highlight of marital conversation was: “Get out before seven years, after that alimony’s a bitch.” Nope, this time around guys who I have known for years, guys I have spent many hours, if not days, conversing with about guns, tanks, battles, helmets, bayonets, beer, and other manly stuff, suddenly got all googly-eyed and sentimental, whisked away to the birthdays of their own children.
But that’s not the strange part. The strange part is the consistency of their message, especially since it’s not just guys I know from reenacting. I’ve been hearing since our first announcement how “everything’s going to change” and, “It’s the best and hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” In the last few weeks I can add to that: “There’s no way to describe the experience of birth,” and “Sleep as much as you can now.” And I’m not just talking a few guys here and there, I’m talking about dozens. All saying the same things. With the same goofy smiles.
Now when that many different people who don’t know each other keep saying the same things, there are two possibilities. First, it’s a conspiracy to trick unsuspecting expectant fathers into pleasant expectation as some sort of twisted revenge for what other fathers did to them. Or second, there is something incredibly unique and transcendent about fatherhood that goes beyond differences and unites all men into one sacred brotherhood. Actually, that solves it. Just typing that out convinced me it has to be a conspiracy. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.
The Bachelor Lifestyle
Yesterday morning, at 0545, we got both kids out of bed and loaded them in the car. I drove the wife to the airport where she boarded a plane for San Francisco. She will return Thursday evening, so I had four days and three nights of hard fighting before I will be relieved. I'm used to dealing with the kids during the day without much help, but it is definitely nice knowing that in the event of screaming, blood loss, or general Daddy is going to snap emergency, the wife can run out of her office to save the day. When I take Lily upstairs for a nap, she can help with any potty needs or random injuries that might occur during a 3 year old being 3. This is the first time that I've had to handle the kids for more than 24 hours or so without any backup.
First thing when we woke them up in the morning, both kids gave me a look like, "Why are you waking me up, I was sleeping so well." I've seen that look before, from their Mother, when I'm leaving in the morning and I wake her up to tell her goodbye. I get the stink eye and yelled at. In the case of the kids, the stink eye was actually somewhat rewarding. Pretty sure I get to wake them up at least 300 more times between the hours of 1 AM and 6 AM for fun before the score is even.
Both were loaded into the care in their flame-retardant pajamas, so they'd be safe in the event of jet fuel explosion, and were very quiet on the way to the airport. Until Owen saw the planes and his quote was timeless. "WHHHOOOOOOOAAAAA!!!!" He came alive when he realized there were planes about. We've been to the airport overlook a lot to watch the planes take off and land, definitely one of his favorite activities, and here he was staring at them closer than ever before. Then he seemed to grasp that his Mommy was going to get into one of them and ACTUALLY GET TO FLY IN AN AIRPLANE!!!!!!!!
As we were leaving the airplane, he had tons of questions. "Where is Mommy going?" "Is she getting into an airplane?" "Can I get in an airplane?" "Can I go to Market Street, get Dungeness Crab from a street vendor, and see the Golden Gate?" Maybe that last one was me. I told him Mommy was going to San Francisco. Not to be one-upped, he announced he was going to North Carolina. Good job world traveler. Of course, he thinks he lives on North Carolina Street in the town of North Carolina, outside the city of North Carolina, in the United States of North Carolina. We're working on his address, but it's slow going.
Throughout the the last two days, he's been asking where Mommy is and needing her for everything. Including the screaming fit I twittered about yesterday when he wanted to show his balloon to Mommy. I've been trying to explain that Mommy is out of town at a very important work conference. Since his Mommy usually goes to work in her pajamas with bed head, he's just not getting this. So I've started to incorporate little facts about Mommy's business trip.
I told him that Mommy went to help Gru stop Vector during the moon heist. He's really into the minions from Despicable Me so that was pretty impressive. Mommy is helping Sir Topham Hatt eliminate confusion and delay on the Sodor Railway. I also explained that Mommy was helping Bob the Builder fix his small business software. Can we customize your import and create a new client field? YES WE CAN! At least I think I've heard some of those words from the wife when I pretend to pay attention to her talk about the day.
With all the rain yesterday, we generally spent most of our time knocking out videos and grocery shopping. The menu while the wife is gone includes pizza, macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, and peanut butter and jelly. I normally do all the cooking, but I'm going for things that take minimal time to prepare and include the maximum amount of gluten that the wife can't eat. Besides, he who turns his back on a 3 year old for more than 8 seconds will rue the day. While loading the car for various errands today and spending 3 minutes not paying full attention to him, he managed to find two crayons somewhere in the house. Normally, he couldn't give a flying stinky about coloring, but decided our couch needed some new orange and red lines. Of course crayon is the one thing I can;t get out of a microfiber couch. I like to be optimistic, so I'm glad he's finally into coloring...let me just burn these sharpies first.
Both kids have been in bed and asleep by about 7:10 so far. I'm thinking about setting alarms to wake them up at 3 AM so they'll be ready for bed time about 3 PM. It's never too early to start conditioning them for having kids of their own, right?
CK
First thing when we woke them up in the morning, both kids gave me a look like, "Why are you waking me up, I was sleeping so well." I've seen that look before, from their Mother, when I'm leaving in the morning and I wake her up to tell her goodbye. I get the stink eye and yelled at. In the case of the kids, the stink eye was actually somewhat rewarding. Pretty sure I get to wake them up at least 300 more times between the hours of 1 AM and 6 AM for fun before the score is even.
Both were loaded into the care in their flame-retardant pajamas, so they'd be safe in the event of jet fuel explosion, and were very quiet on the way to the airport. Until Owen saw the planes and his quote was timeless. "WHHHOOOOOOOAAAAA!!!!" He came alive when he realized there were planes about. We've been to the airport overlook a lot to watch the planes take off and land, definitely one of his favorite activities, and here he was staring at them closer than ever before. Then he seemed to grasp that his Mommy was going to get into one of them and ACTUALLY GET TO FLY IN AN AIRPLANE!!!!!!!!
As we were leaving the airplane, he had tons of questions. "Where is Mommy going?" "Is she getting into an airplane?" "Can I get in an airplane?" "Can I go to Market Street, get Dungeness Crab from a street vendor, and see the Golden Gate?" Maybe that last one was me. I told him Mommy was going to San Francisco. Not to be one-upped, he announced he was going to North Carolina. Good job world traveler. Of course, he thinks he lives on North Carolina Street in the town of North Carolina, outside the city of North Carolina, in the United States of North Carolina. We're working on his address, but it's slow going.
Throughout the the last two days, he's been asking where Mommy is and needing her for everything. Including the screaming fit I twittered about yesterday when he wanted to show his balloon to Mommy. I've been trying to explain that Mommy is out of town at a very important work conference. Since his Mommy usually goes to work in her pajamas with bed head, he's just not getting this. So I've started to incorporate little facts about Mommy's business trip.
I told him that Mommy went to help Gru stop Vector during the moon heist. He's really into the minions from Despicable Me so that was pretty impressive. Mommy is helping Sir Topham Hatt eliminate confusion and delay on the Sodor Railway. I also explained that Mommy was helping Bob the Builder fix his small business software. Can we customize your import and create a new client field? YES WE CAN! At least I think I've heard some of those words from the wife when I pretend to pay attention to her talk about the day.
With all the rain yesterday, we generally spent most of our time knocking out videos and grocery shopping. The menu while the wife is gone includes pizza, macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, and peanut butter and jelly. I normally do all the cooking, but I'm going for things that take minimal time to prepare and include the maximum amount of gluten that the wife can't eat. Besides, he who turns his back on a 3 year old for more than 8 seconds will rue the day. While loading the car for various errands today and spending 3 minutes not paying full attention to him, he managed to find two crayons somewhere in the house. Normally, he couldn't give a flying stinky about coloring, but decided our couch needed some new orange and red lines. Of course crayon is the one thing I can;t get out of a microfiber couch. I like to be optimistic, so I'm glad he's finally into coloring...let me just burn these sharpies first.
Both kids have been in bed and asleep by about 7:10 so far. I'm thinking about setting alarms to wake them up at 3 AM so they'll be ready for bed time about 3 PM. It's never too early to start conditioning them for having kids of their own, right?
CK
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Swimming Lessons
On March 31st, there was an incident. We went down to Greenville, SC for a family wedding and my parents are awesome and agreed to come down to keep an eye on their grandkids, as well as my nephew while we partied down. We set them up in a local hotel with an indoor pool and took care of the pizza during the wedding. While we were getting ready for the evening out, Owen went with his Nana and Papa to go swimming in the hotel pool. At one point, Nana told Owen to stay on the steps going into the pool while she took the 3 steps from the stairs to the door to let Papa into the pool area. When she turned around, 4 seconds later, Owen was gone. He was standing on the bottom of the pool in 3 and a half feet of water, waiting for someone to come fish him out.
This was totally Owen's fault for bad listening reasons, but it also firmly established something. He needed swimming lessons as soon as possible. We spend entirely too much time on the lake boating to have him not become an expert swimmer. Don't make me think of him stepping off a shelf in the lake and going under. When we got home from that weekend, he was enrolled in the next available swim class. My parents called us about 5 minutes after the registration and asked if we were going to get him swimming lessons and offered to pay for them. We graciously agreed to let them.
Last year, we tried to work with him a little bit in the various pool outings, but he loves to play with us too much. He doesn't want to put his head underwater and blow bubbles when he can splash around with Mom and Dad. We also have him in floats the whole time because we don't want to pluck a kid off the bottom every 15 seconds. Not to mention the fact that we really have no idea how to teach a kid to swim.
Swim class was really helpful and he finished his last class in the first series today. Not only did he pass the class, he aced everything including the Spiderman, Superman Arms, and the Spongebob. I'm not really sure what any of those things mean, but I sure am impressed my son can do stuff that those three can. I really wish that there was some sort of funny incident that allowed me to crack wise on his class, but the teachers were on top of them and all the kids did a really good job of bowing to the peer pressure of not sinking to the bottom and listening to the instructors. There was one time he leaned forward really far and almost toppled in, but a teacher noticed it and got him in line. My only complaint is that it was really focused on getting him comfortable with the pool and the basics of sticking your head under water without ingesting anything, but it didn't go too much further than that.
So we start level 2 of swim classes next Tuesday. As Owen will tell you "I don't want to sink anymore." I don't want you to either.
CK
Amendment One
Today is primary day here in North Carolina. We're picking people to run in the November elections, but we're also voting on a state constitutional amendment. Basically, if you vote for it, you're saying marriage is only between a man and a woman. If you vote against it, you are saying marriage is not legally defined as a man and woman. I am a member of a public speaking club and there are three topics you are supposed to avoid: sex, religion, and politics. I generally try to avoid these three topics within my blog as I want it dedicated to the goofy things that my children do and my observations as I live life with them. I've really been debating whether I wanted to comment on Amendment One or just ignore it since it touches on all three of the subjects that you're supposed to avoid in polite conversation. If you don't care what I think, please read no further since I have no illusions that I'll be changing any minds or making a difference with the few friends and family that might read my blog.
In this country, we tell our children to be themselves and we tell them that they can be anything they want. They can be an astronaut, they can be president, they can be a baseball player, or a movie star. We also tell them that if you work hard, you can achieve the American dream which is often defined as the white picket fence with 2.5 kids, the dog, and two cars in the garage. Now that I'm older, I'm as happy as I've ever been even though we're 0.5 kids short. I think we make up for it by having 2x the number of dogs specified. If my kids learn nothing else from me, the two things that I want them to learn is that working hard and taking responsibility for yourself is going to get you a long way in this world. If you do those two things, you probably can do anything you want to do. Chances are, my kids will not grow up to be an astronaut since NASA is being cut back, there's only a few people that will get to be president in their lifetime, and they're probably going to be too busy in Mensa and getting advanced degrees on full scholarship to have time to be movie stars. So realistically, they will probably grow up, get a job or start their own small business, and have the house, the 2.5 kids, dog, and 2 cars, right? Not necessarily if Amendment One passes, which is why I've decided to vote against it.
1. Marriage that is not between a man and a woman is already illegal in NC, so we're voting on a redundancy. In this economy, why are we wasting time and resources on something that has already "addressed" by the people voting for the amendment? Further, marriage is established in the church by God, so why is the government getting involved in a religious institution at all?
2. Why would I want to take anything off the table that might make my children happy? I love being married to a wonderful wife and it's a strong commitment that I have made publicly to love her unconditionally. It's weird and strange, but our relationship got much better and stronger after marriage. I will also love my kids unconditionally and my hope is that one day, they too will find a partner that will have the same respect and love for them that my wife and I have for each other. If one or both of my kids is/are gay, that hope isn't going to change.
3. I'm definitely in favor of less government involvement in just about all facets of personal lives. Between terrorism, unemployment rates, gas prices, utility prices, corruption in government, wild stock market swings, outsourcing of jobs, and the housing market it seems like we have a heck of a lot more stuff to worry about that affects much larger portions of the population before we get to gay marriage. Plus, I can't think of a time when I have said, "Thank goodness the government stepped in, everything is perfect now!"
It basically boils down to the fact that I'm concerned about me. I want my children to be happy and have as many options as possible open to them. I want to see the look on my son's face when his bride (or groom) walks into view. I want to escort my little girl down the aisle or across the sand of a beach or see her face light up. I really don't care. I want them to have grandkids I can spoil, whether they're biological or adopted. The Muppets have it right when they sang, "Life's a happy song when there's someone by your side to sing along."
If you don't like gay marriage, don't get gay married. If it one day becomes legal, don't attend gay marriages of your friends or family. But don't you dare tell my kids that they can't do something. Because they CAN do anything they want, like becoming the first gay astronaut president.
CK
In this country, we tell our children to be themselves and we tell them that they can be anything they want. They can be an astronaut, they can be president, they can be a baseball player, or a movie star. We also tell them that if you work hard, you can achieve the American dream which is often defined as the white picket fence with 2.5 kids, the dog, and two cars in the garage. Now that I'm older, I'm as happy as I've ever been even though we're 0.5 kids short. I think we make up for it by having 2x the number of dogs specified. If my kids learn nothing else from me, the two things that I want them to learn is that working hard and taking responsibility for yourself is going to get you a long way in this world. If you do those two things, you probably can do anything you want to do. Chances are, my kids will not grow up to be an astronaut since NASA is being cut back, there's only a few people that will get to be president in their lifetime, and they're probably going to be too busy in Mensa and getting advanced degrees on full scholarship to have time to be movie stars. So realistically, they will probably grow up, get a job or start their own small business, and have the house, the 2.5 kids, dog, and 2 cars, right? Not necessarily if Amendment One passes, which is why I've decided to vote against it.
1. Marriage that is not between a man and a woman is already illegal in NC, so we're voting on a redundancy. In this economy, why are we wasting time and resources on something that has already "addressed" by the people voting for the amendment? Further, marriage is established in the church by God, so why is the government getting involved in a religious institution at all?
2. Why would I want to take anything off the table that might make my children happy? I love being married to a wonderful wife and it's a strong commitment that I have made publicly to love her unconditionally. It's weird and strange, but our relationship got much better and stronger after marriage. I will also love my kids unconditionally and my hope is that one day, they too will find a partner that will have the same respect and love for them that my wife and I have for each other. If one or both of my kids is/are gay, that hope isn't going to change.
3. I'm definitely in favor of less government involvement in just about all facets of personal lives. Between terrorism, unemployment rates, gas prices, utility prices, corruption in government, wild stock market swings, outsourcing of jobs, and the housing market it seems like we have a heck of a lot more stuff to worry about that affects much larger portions of the population before we get to gay marriage. Plus, I can't think of a time when I have said, "Thank goodness the government stepped in, everything is perfect now!"
It basically boils down to the fact that I'm concerned about me. I want my children to be happy and have as many options as possible open to them. I want to see the look on my son's face when his bride (or groom) walks into view. I want to escort my little girl down the aisle or across the sand of a beach or see her face light up. I really don't care. I want them to have grandkids I can spoil, whether they're biological or adopted. The Muppets have it right when they sang, "Life's a happy song when there's someone by your side to sing along."
If you don't like gay marriage, don't get gay married. If it one day becomes legal, don't attend gay marriages of your friends or family. But don't you dare tell my kids that they can't do something. Because they CAN do anything they want, like becoming the first gay astronaut president.
CK
Monday, April 30, 2012
Flame Retardant Pajamas
40 pounds of sausage in a casing designed for 30 pounds. Yep, that's pretty much what Owen looks like in 4T pajamas. I really have no idea why kid's pajamas are all flame retardant, I'm sure there's one kid somewhere that would have been saved if they hadn't been wearing loose fitting jammies. Seems to me that ALL clothing for my boy should be flame retardant since he's far more likely to be close to our oven and the fireplace than making a flambe in his room. I don't think he's overweight. Sure, he's built like a 3rd round fullback, but he's definitely not a 1st round left tackle. Based on my informal survey of pot-bellies on 3 yr olds at the playground and in Owen's swim class, I'd say he's about average to above average pot-bellied. It's when I watch him running over people with those big thighs, my God a pre-schooler, that I can tell where all the meat is stored. His legs are massive, just like his Daddy. I would never ever ever ever ever
ever ever ever ever
ever ever ever ever
ever ever ever ever
ever ever ever ever say just like his Mommy.
The tops to flame retardant pjs are fine on him, but the bottoms are always really tight. Out of curiosity, I googled flame retardant pajamas and discovered there is a huge controversy. I knew there was some question as to whether the chemicals used to make them flame retardant were safe, but like everything else related to kids, it's evil and bad and they're going to kill our kids. I cruised through a couple of "Why Flame Retardant Pajamas Are Bad" pages and the crux of the argument seems to be that you don't know what chemicals and in what concentrations. My favorite post was from a Mom of two kids named Birch and Willow. I'll let you guess whether or not she switched from chemically jammies to organic untreated cotton. Her post was actually way better than the "CHEMICALS ARE EVIL!!!!" information most people put up.
Basically, in the 1970s, the Consumer Product Safety Commission decided that kids pajamas needed to be exposed to an open flame for 3 seconds. So various chemicals were used and had to be effective enough to still prevent lil' Junior from roasting after 50 runs through the laundry. Of course, some of these compounds were linked to genetic problems, damage to the nervous and reproductive systems, and possible carcinogens. I decided to google a second search phrase. "Why the hell do kid's pajamas have to be flame retardant?" Nothing of note. If you know why, I would be really curious to find out why in the world pajamas need to be flame-resistant.
In the meantime, I'm not going to worry about it too much. I probably looked like an over-stuffed sausage in the late 1970s and early 80s at bed time too, and I am clearly a genius, handsome, and very good at reproducing. Besides, organic cotton jammies are like $30 and have prints like free-range stallions, trees, and sea turtles being born and making the arduous trek back to the sea. For $10, I can get him spaceship, Star Wars, or Batman pjs. A more effective way to avoid the boy igniting himself is to take away the book of matches and flammable super glue I'm using to encourage construction of a mini-log cabin.
CK
Thursday, April 19, 2012
PSA: "The Day The Dinosaurs Died"
WARNING: Do not buy, checkout of the local library, or even open the book "The Day The Dinosaurs Died". Wow, is this book terrible for kids. I started to read it to Owen for bedtime last night and it starts with a T-rex running off smaller dinosaurs to steal the dead dinosaur they were eating on. While Mr. Rex is snacking, an asteroid is getting closer, but he eats his meal without noticing. When he looks up, it's too late.
Then, we turn to the next page and Pteranodons are blown out of the sky by the explosion, rocks boil away, everything is killed instantly. A few pages later, we meet the Triceratops grazing peacefully a few thousand miles away. Sure, the flash of light is scary, but they go back to eating. But they're not safe because there is a wall of fire is closing in around them. But they're not going to be killed by fire because there is a tsunami that's going to put out the fire and drown them all.
Some dinosaurs are lucky enough to survive the instant death by asteroid, fireballs, and tsunamis. Yay, dinosaurs live through the disaster to reproduce and repopulate the Earth? Nope, those ones are going to starve to death because they can;t find food while picking through the ashes.
When the survivors finally starve to death, at least you get to be a fossil in a museum. Again, wishful thinking, how about you get to be rodent food? And the illustrations of the rodents are not friendly, they're frightening. I made the mistake of starting to read this book at bedtime. Very quickly, I was changing sentences from 'Tyrannosaurus Rex died instantly' to 'T-Rex had a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.' The Triceratops were not painfully slaughtered in a fire/tsunami, they were 'punished for not listening to their Daddies.' Then I gave up and just started flipping pages as quickly as possible. When the evil rats show up to eat the dinosaur that just starved to death, Owen stopped me and announced, "Look at the baby mice!" Yeah, baby mice that are going to help that dinosaur...
We immediately removed that book from the room and it went back to the library immediately. Even before I could scan in some of the pages for this post. I made it up to him by reading a book about people getting free dinosaurs with the purchase of a dozen doughnuts. Talk about a win-win. Daddy gets doughnuts and Owen gets a LIVE pet dinosaur according to that book. Most importantly, Daddy doesn't get up at 2 AM to console a boy crying about the horrible deaths 65 million years ago.
CK
Then, we turn to the next page and Pteranodons are blown out of the sky by the explosion, rocks boil away, everything is killed instantly. A few pages later, we meet the Triceratops grazing peacefully a few thousand miles away. Sure, the flash of light is scary, but they go back to eating. But they're not safe because there is a wall of fire is closing in around them. But they're not going to be killed by fire because there is a tsunami that's going to put out the fire and drown them all.
Some dinosaurs are lucky enough to survive the instant death by asteroid, fireballs, and tsunamis. Yay, dinosaurs live through the disaster to reproduce and repopulate the Earth? Nope, those ones are going to starve to death because they can;t find food while picking through the ashes.
When the survivors finally starve to death, at least you get to be a fossil in a museum. Again, wishful thinking, how about you get to be rodent food? And the illustrations of the rodents are not friendly, they're frightening. I made the mistake of starting to read this book at bedtime. Very quickly, I was changing sentences from 'Tyrannosaurus Rex died instantly' to 'T-Rex had a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.' The Triceratops were not painfully slaughtered in a fire/tsunami, they were 'punished for not listening to their Daddies.' Then I gave up and just started flipping pages as quickly as possible. When the evil rats show up to eat the dinosaur that just starved to death, Owen stopped me and announced, "Look at the baby mice!" Yeah, baby mice that are going to help that dinosaur...
We immediately removed that book from the room and it went back to the library immediately. Even before I could scan in some of the pages for this post. I made it up to him by reading a book about people getting free dinosaurs with the purchase of a dozen doughnuts. Talk about a win-win. Daddy gets doughnuts and Owen gets a LIVE pet dinosaur according to that book. Most importantly, Daddy doesn't get up at 2 AM to console a boy crying about the horrible deaths 65 million years ago.
CK
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
The Gloriousness of One Year
Typically, I focus on the screwball antics of a 3 and a half year old and the wake of destruction he leaves behind. But this post is going to focus on the mini girl version of me. Now that she's 1, she's making leaps and bounds in her motor skills, mobility, and (most importantly) convenience for me.
I have always had trouble with feeding times and keeping her focused with the boy running around. And when Mommy is present, she's got the head on a swivel trying to keep track of her instead of focusing on the fatty caloric goodness on a baby spoon I'm trying to shovel in. Now that her fine motor skills have improved to the point she can grasp peas and other small food items, I just put a smorgasbord of things on her tray to let her decide what she eats and what goes to the dogs. Lily does pretty well with the arrangement and the dogs make out like bandits.
I'm also pretty thrilled that she's starting to grasp the concept of clothing. Rather than fighting to get her into all the cute pink outfits, she's starting to help by pushing her arms straight out. She still wants to get down as soon as possible and get away from Daddy, but it's a lot easier. I'm also thrilled that getting her arms out of the NASA astronaut level safety harness has suddenly gotten a lot better. Normally, she just screams and flails while I struggle to squeeze crazy baby arms out of those tight quarters. It's next to impossible. Suddenly, she gets it and folds those lil' chubby arms up to pull them out herself. It's much easier and those 20 seconds allow me to get to Owen faster. Hint: if you have two children, always get the immobile one out of the car first, then go for the mobile one so it's not running across the parking lot/traffic. Same getting back into the car, corral the more exuberant one first. He is usually upset about something, so getting him subdued faster is always more gooder.
It is kind of nice having her crawling around and entertaining herself more. Sure, I have to be on top of things to ensure that the downstairs gates/bathroom door/front door/back porch door/basement door/upstairs gates/dog water/dog food in bowls are all secured. Not to mention having to make sure the potty in Owen's room is ALWAYS empty just in case she gets over there. She spends tons of time crawling around and throwing toys, figuring things out, and practicing standing up. Instead of having to move her from exer-saucer to bouncer to random spot on the floor, she's much happier for longer periods of time. Another downside is that I do have to spend some time playing referee. Often putting Owen in timeout because he just ripped one of Lily's toys out of her hand. Maybe that's not a downside. Maybe he'll be the best little sharer and listener in the whole pre-school in the fall. Probably not.
One of the best parts of turning 1 is her personality really exploding. I spent some time this afternoon flinging a giggling kid around (gently) and tickling baby ribs. So danged cute with the smile and her little teeth sticking out, dimples, and the grunting chuckle. Just awesome. I had to work for the littlest grin forever and now she's happy as can be. Wait, I just realized she has figured out how to manipulate me. She's been doing it all along! Her brother always ends up in timeout, I dance like her pet monkey for minor approval, and she gets whatever she wants. How did I just get an email confirmation that I bought a pony?
CK
I have always had trouble with feeding times and keeping her focused with the boy running around. And when Mommy is present, she's got the head on a swivel trying to keep track of her instead of focusing on the fatty caloric goodness on a baby spoon I'm trying to shovel in. Now that her fine motor skills have improved to the point she can grasp peas and other small food items, I just put a smorgasbord of things on her tray to let her decide what she eats and what goes to the dogs. Lily does pretty well with the arrangement and the dogs make out like bandits.
I'm also pretty thrilled that she's starting to grasp the concept of clothing. Rather than fighting to get her into all the cute pink outfits, she's starting to help by pushing her arms straight out. She still wants to get down as soon as possible and get away from Daddy, but it's a lot easier. I'm also thrilled that getting her arms out of the NASA astronaut level safety harness has suddenly gotten a lot better. Normally, she just screams and flails while I struggle to squeeze crazy baby arms out of those tight quarters. It's next to impossible. Suddenly, she gets it and folds those lil' chubby arms up to pull them out herself. It's much easier and those 20 seconds allow me to get to Owen faster. Hint: if you have two children, always get the immobile one out of the car first, then go for the mobile one so it's not running across the parking lot/traffic. Same getting back into the car, corral the more exuberant one first. He is usually upset about something, so getting him subdued faster is always more gooder.
It is kind of nice having her crawling around and entertaining herself more. Sure, I have to be on top of things to ensure that the downstairs gates/bathroom door/front door/back porch door/basement door/upstairs gates/dog water/dog food in bowls are all secured. Not to mention having to make sure the potty in Owen's room is ALWAYS empty just in case she gets over there. She spends tons of time crawling around and throwing toys, figuring things out, and practicing standing up. Instead of having to move her from exer-saucer to bouncer to random spot on the floor, she's much happier for longer periods of time. Another downside is that I do have to spend some time playing referee. Often putting Owen in timeout because he just ripped one of Lily's toys out of her hand. Maybe that's not a downside. Maybe he'll be the best little sharer and listener in the whole pre-school in the fall. Probably not.
One of the best parts of turning 1 is her personality really exploding. I spent some time this afternoon flinging a giggling kid around (gently) and tickling baby ribs. So danged cute with the smile and her little teeth sticking out, dimples, and the grunting chuckle. Just awesome. I had to work for the littlest grin forever and now she's happy as can be. Wait, I just realized she has figured out how to manipulate me. She's been doing it all along! Her brother always ends up in timeout, I dance like her pet monkey for minor approval, and she gets whatever she wants. How did I just get an email confirmation that I bought a pony?
CK
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Bob the Builder
Forget Thomas. Forget Fireman Sam. Forget Super Why and all the other shows on the planet. Bob the Builder is the new sheriff in town. It's got everything that a 3 year old needs. Construction equipment, animated characters, annoying voices that drive Mommy and Daddy up the wall, and ridiculous story lines. You can tell when Owen loves something because we are not allowed to enjoy it with him. As he's singing the wonderful Bob the Builder theme song, we cannot even think about bobbing our head and yelling "Yes we can!" to Bob's question "Can we fix it?" If either of us dare get involved with the theme song, he will turn, stomp, and scream at the top of his lungs "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!!!!!"
I don't see why Bob is any different from the average kids show. One of Bob's machines steps out of line by doing a job too early, their own way, or by destroying something through carelessness. Pretty much exactly what Thomas the Tank Engine does. Or Chuggington. Or Norman Price in the Fireman Sam series. Bob should send the offending piece of equipment to the scrap heap and buy a better model. But no, he laughs it off and spends his client's dollars and time to fix it. Probably with a big change order.
I suppose that even a kids show needs a little drama to make things more interesting. Everyone wants to see a crash. Especially when it's a big cloud of dust and a bunch of cartoon limbs strewn around. At least that would be more entertaining to Daddy until it's 2 AM and there's a 3 yr old boy having nightmares. The lack of serious consequences is good for the little ones and their imaginations. But, I'm sure that's the main reason my boy has never had a cautious moment. He sees Scratch the Excavator get crushed under tons of rock without a...well...scratch. His scraped knees can't possibly be caused by the gigantic feet and clumsiness I blessed him with.
I think I'm going to start my own kid's series. Maybe a giant purple dinosaur that does nothing but hug people and provide good lessons. I think everyone would enjoy that, and my boy would stop face planting on concrete.
CK
I don't see why Bob is any different from the average kids show. One of Bob's machines steps out of line by doing a job too early, their own way, or by destroying something through carelessness. Pretty much exactly what Thomas the Tank Engine does. Or Chuggington. Or Norman Price in the Fireman Sam series. Bob should send the offending piece of equipment to the scrap heap and buy a better model. But no, he laughs it off and spends his client's dollars and time to fix it. Probably with a big change order.
I suppose that even a kids show needs a little drama to make things more interesting. Everyone wants to see a crash. Especially when it's a big cloud of dust and a bunch of cartoon limbs strewn around. At least that would be more entertaining to Daddy until it's 2 AM and there's a 3 yr old boy having nightmares. The lack of serious consequences is good for the little ones and their imaginations. But, I'm sure that's the main reason my boy has never had a cautious moment. He sees Scratch the Excavator get crushed under tons of rock without a...well...scratch. His scraped knees can't possibly be caused by the gigantic feet and clumsiness I blessed him with.
I think I'm going to start my own kid's series. Maybe a giant purple dinosaur that does nothing but hug people and provide good lessons. I think everyone would enjoy that, and my boy would stop face planting on concrete.
CK
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Snow Day
Owen has been talking about snow for weeks. It's been a bizarrely warm winter so far, but it has been very funny to watch him run around outside in 65 degree sunny weather while yelling about how much it's going to snow later. Well, they were actually calling for snow this past Sunday night. He called it by announcing it was going to snow. I guess if you say it's going to snow everyday, you might actually be right occasionally. We used the potential for snow to get him into bed, sort of like we do with Santa Claus. "Santa Claus/Snow can't come if your not in bed and fast asleep." Like Christmas, it didn't really work.
Technically, we didn't get snow. We got some sleet that accumulated on the shaded areas and froze over night. I would say we got somewhere between 1/32nd of an inch and 1/16th of an inch. As soon as the sun came up, everything in the front yard was gone, but the stuff on our back porch stayed shaded and cold until about 10 AM. When Owen remembered he called for snow, he looked out the back door on to the porch and we got an excited 15 minutes of yelling about "LOTS OF SNOW ON THE BACK PORCH AND WE NEED TO GO OUTSIDE AND PLAY IN THE SNOW AND CHECK THE ROOF AND HAVE FUN!!!!!!" Check the roof?
I tried to let him down gently. I tried to explain that it was only a little bit of snow. I explained that the front of our house was just like normal because the sun came up. He would have none of it. In his mind, I'm sure we had 6 feet on the other side of the house. If he understood basic units of measurement. After we got breakfast cleaned up and Lily in bed for a nap, it was time to go outside. I wish I had a better ending, like there really was a ton of snow out front, or he was excited about one or two small areas of sleet in the shade that were still there, or even a crying fit I could laugh at. Seems like he'd forgotten about the whole thing and didn't care that there wasn't anything out there. Like a true meteorologist, he was announcing that it would be snowing later on that day. Never let facts get in your way.
CK
Technically, we didn't get snow. We got some sleet that accumulated on the shaded areas and froze over night. I would say we got somewhere between 1/32nd of an inch and 1/16th of an inch. As soon as the sun came up, everything in the front yard was gone, but the stuff on our back porch stayed shaded and cold until about 10 AM. When Owen remembered he called for snow, he looked out the back door on to the porch and we got an excited 15 minutes of yelling about "LOTS OF SNOW ON THE BACK PORCH AND WE NEED TO GO OUTSIDE AND PLAY IN THE SNOW AND CHECK THE ROOF AND HAVE FUN!!!!!!" Check the roof?
I tried to let him down gently. I tried to explain that it was only a little bit of snow. I explained that the front of our house was just like normal because the sun came up. He would have none of it. In his mind, I'm sure we had 6 feet on the other side of the house. If he understood basic units of measurement. After we got breakfast cleaned up and Lily in bed for a nap, it was time to go outside. I wish I had a better ending, like there really was a ton of snow out front, or he was excited about one or two small areas of sleet in the shade that were still there, or even a crying fit I could laugh at. Seems like he'd forgotten about the whole thing and didn't care that there wasn't anything out there. Like a true meteorologist, he was announcing that it would be snowing later on that day. Never let facts get in your way.
CK
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Valentines Day
I know, last week. But we've never been real big on celebrating Valentines Day so I have been ignoring this post for busy reasons. Well, I guess we did celebrate the one Valentines in 2008 because Owen was born in November '08, but that was it. My big romantic plan this year was to do nothing except a card and a bag of chocolate like I usually do. Why do I need to spend a ton of $$$ on something when I should really be showing the wife love the other 365 days of the year? Then I saw the flyer for Sweetheart Night at the local Chick-fil-A on the 13th. Yes! Sign us up immediately.
We love Chick-fil-A, probably more so than the average family. Since the wife is allergic to gluten (wheat, malt, barely), she can't eat at very many restaurants. Even if the restaurant understands what gluten is, there's often cross contamination issues like preparing her food on a surface that just had bread crumbs on it or running their french fries through the same fryer they just did the breaded chicken nuggets. Chick-fil-A on the other hand, uses a dedicated fryer for their delicious waffle fries. We've never had a problem there. Throw in the interior playground and it's our favorite place to eat. Because we're classy like that.
I went to the website and made the reservation. Very fancy. There was zero information, so all I really knew is that we were supposed to show up at 6:15 Monday night. At this point, I told the wife that we had reservations the night before Valentines, but I would not be taking her as my date. I took the liberty of lining up a date for her, but I had a cute young lady in mind for myself. Of course we documented the wonderful evening, you can see us with our dates:
The wife is so funny. She had all sorts of questions, and I kept trying to tell her I didn't know anything except show up at 6:15. But she kept asking questions. I'm trying to be less sarcastic, but I had to poke a little fun at her.
Wife: "What should I wear?"
Me: "Well, I'm wearing a tuxedo and tails, so maybe you should go with a Versace gown?"
Wife: "Do you know what kind of food they're going to have?"
Me: "Definitely filet mignon. I heard they're changing their name to Cow-fil-A."
Note to self, don't be sarcastic to the the wife or you definitely won't have the opportunity to have a third kid in November 2012.
When we arrived, they had set a part of the restaurant aside, put up a maitre d stand, tablecloths with flowers and candles, and turned off half the fluorescent bulbs in the section for ambience. The menus were your standard Chick-fil-A fare only written in a fancy font. They took orders at the table and delivered food. I went with the spicy chicken sandwich, while my date opted for a tub of peas she brought from home. Nice, she's didn't go for the most expensive item, but it was a little weird to bring your own food.
The wife had the grilled chicken salad while her date enjoyed chicken nuggets. Literally, he enjoyed them by putting his face down in the plate they brought them on so as to keep his hands clean. They must have been delicious because they disappeared in a hurry and he asked nicely to be excused to play on the playground. By ask nicely, I mean he tried to crawl under the table and shove his lovely date out of the way while complaining loudly.
My date was a little grumpy since we weren't shoveling peas into her face as fast as possible. Once we were able to get some food into her, she did settle down and we had a wonderful conversation while the wife and her date spent some quality time on the playground. When the check arrived, my date offered to pick up the tab, but since I am a fancy gentleman, I refused her generous offer and covered everyone's meal. I figured the wife's date would try to dine and dash since he is usually dashing everywhere and he hasn't bothered to find a job or pay rent yet.
We love Chick-fil-A, probably more so than the average family. Since the wife is allergic to gluten (wheat, malt, barely), she can't eat at very many restaurants. Even if the restaurant understands what gluten is, there's often cross contamination issues like preparing her food on a surface that just had bread crumbs on it or running their french fries through the same fryer they just did the breaded chicken nuggets. Chick-fil-A on the other hand, uses a dedicated fryer for their delicious waffle fries. We've never had a problem there. Throw in the interior playground and it's our favorite place to eat. Because we're classy like that.
I went to the website and made the reservation. Very fancy. There was zero information, so all I really knew is that we were supposed to show up at 6:15 Monday night. At this point, I told the wife that we had reservations the night before Valentines, but I would not be taking her as my date. I took the liberty of lining up a date for her, but I had a cute young lady in mind for myself. Of course we documented the wonderful evening, you can see us with our dates:
The wife is so funny. She had all sorts of questions, and I kept trying to tell her I didn't know anything except show up at 6:15. But she kept asking questions. I'm trying to be less sarcastic, but I had to poke a little fun at her.
Wife: "What should I wear?"
Me: "Well, I'm wearing a tuxedo and tails, so maybe you should go with a Versace gown?"
Wife: "Do you know what kind of food they're going to have?"
Me: "Definitely filet mignon. I heard they're changing their name to Cow-fil-A."
Note to self, don't be sarcastic to the the wife or you definitely won't have the opportunity to have a third kid in November 2012.
When we arrived, they had set a part of the restaurant aside, put up a maitre d stand, tablecloths with flowers and candles, and turned off half the fluorescent bulbs in the section for ambience. The menus were your standard Chick-fil-A fare only written in a fancy font. They took orders at the table and delivered food. I went with the spicy chicken sandwich, while my date opted for a tub of peas she brought from home. Nice, she's didn't go for the most expensive item, but it was a little weird to bring your own food.
The wife had the grilled chicken salad while her date enjoyed chicken nuggets. Literally, he enjoyed them by putting his face down in the plate they brought them on so as to keep his hands clean. They must have been delicious because they disappeared in a hurry and he asked nicely to be excused to play on the playground. By ask nicely, I mean he tried to crawl under the table and shove his lovely date out of the way while complaining loudly.
My date was a little grumpy since we weren't shoveling peas into her face as fast as possible. Once we were able to get some food into her, she did settle down and we had a wonderful conversation while the wife and her date spent some quality time on the playground. When the check arrived, my date offered to pick up the tab, but since I am a fancy gentleman, I refused her generous offer and covered everyone's meal. I figured the wife's date would try to dine and dash since he is usually dashing everywhere and he hasn't bothered to find a job or pay rent yet.
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| Can I get that Daddy, I'm not high maintenance. Yet. |
On our way out, we were presented with gifts. The wife got a carnation, Daddy got a free chicken biscuit coupon. Owen and Lily each received gift bags with a cow beanie and a free chicken biscuit coupon. The carnation was instantly stolen by the wife's date and it was brandished throughout the restaurant and parking lot like a weapon. I'm pretty sure he was defending his date against all the other preschoolers that brought their Mommies. Of course, it didn't take long to snap the carnation stem so now it's in a much smaller glass on our table. But Daddy scored the biggest. Three free chicken biscuit coupons? Thank you very much. Not to mention February is buy one get one free chicken biscuits for Dads that bring kids in on Friday mornings. I got a free one last Friday, will get a free one this Friday, and still have 3 free ones over the next few weeks. Best. Valentines. Ever.
CK
Friday, February 10, 2012
Phantom Menace Running Diary
This is my running diary of thoughts when I watched The Phantom Menace the other day. This was before I decided not to take my boy, or even go see it myself in my small act of defiance. I recommend getting a good bottle of hard liquor and watching the movie. Pretend I'm in the room with my witty comments at the appropriate minute marks and do shots every time there is a really bad line of dialogue.
0:31 The trademark Star Wars logo with the opening brass lick and ensuing word crawl setting the movie up might be the best opening in movie history. Glad Lucas stuck with it across the franchise.
2:10 Big planet, lots of ships, great opening shot. Of course, we also have my first annoyance with the accents on the Trade Federation dudes.
3:15 Ewan MacGregor is a good young Obi-Wan.
3:59 The Trade Federation guys should really have been speaking in their “native” language with subtitles as much as possible.
5:45 Light sabers in the mist = awesome.
6:10 The Viceroy panicking because Jedi on the loose and his friend/assistant/whatever being matter of fact about how the Jedi have pretty much already killed them is well-played.
6:45 Light saber = best lock pick ever.
7:05 Shielded battle droids are nice, but I always wondered about the lack of technology decades after this movie in the original Star Wars. Shields on some droids, but the TIE Fighters at the Death Star don’t have shields or pressurized cabins?
10:57 Who has two thumbs and can single-handedly ruin a movie? Jar-Jar Binks. Wait, does he have thumbs?
12:10 It’s not only the way he talks, it’s also the way he moves that irks me.
15:47 There’s the Jedi mind trick.
16:30 No Liam Neeson, don’t take Jar-Jar with you, leave him to the fat Gungan to get rid of.
17:02 NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
18:12 Giant evil fish = taking my kid for his first pee break. I would like to take him back to the ocean eventually and there’s no way he’s getting in the water if he thinks those things exist.
21:00 I love the city they have on Naboo, looks really cool.
24:45 I also love the huge amounts of droids being turned into spare parts. When in doubt, give me more light-sabering of baddies.
26:20 Of course R2-D2 saved everyone. He’s a rockstar. And why doesn’t Obi-Wan recognize him in A New Hope? I’d remember that droid.
29:10 “You’re a Gungan, aren’t you?” Wait, isn’t Natalie Portman’s character the Queen undercover as one of her hand maidens? Maybe know your planet if you’re the Queen. Do a shot if you can still see straight from Jar-Jar's screen time.
32:00 And here’s the second most annoying character in cinema history, young Anakin.
32:30 “Are you an angel?” And that’s why he’s second most annoying. A quick IMDB check and Jake Lloyd pretty much hasn’t worked since Phantom Menace. I hope he’s okay.
38:30 I don’t know how I feel about the 6 year old Darth Vader building C-3PO.
47:20 WOW, I completely forgot about George Lucas going the ‘Immaculate Conception’ route for Anakin Skywalker. W. O. W.
50:05 I demand a two-headed announcer for all sporting events. I’d watch ANYTHING if there was an Al Michaels head and a Cris Collinsworth head doing play by play and color. Maybe even a third Ron Jaworski head?
1:00:30 I think the best part of this movie is the pod-racing with the different engine sounds, the scenery, and Tusken raiders sitting on a hill side taking pot shots at the racers. It’s fantastic, really. Plus young Anakin and Jar-Jar don’t speak.
1:06:34 The extras in the stands and their half-hearted cheering when young Anakin takes the lead made me giggle.
1:06:45 George Lucas, that was a gratuitous Jawa shot with a random “Utinni!” thrown in. I will allow it.
1:09:40 More two-headed announcer creature! The use of Jabba in this movie was good too, napping at the end, being generally Jabba the Hutt-like throughout the pod-race.
1:16:25 Darth Maul is appropriately evil and bad-ass. I must be cautious about exposing my boy to him.
1:19:53 Throughout the second half of this movie, the sexual tension between young Anakin and Portman is awfully creepy. The only thing creepier is the sexual tension between Lightning McQueen and Sally in the Pixar movie Cars. I know Lucas is setting it up for the romance in the next few movies, but wait for Anakin to be older in the next movie.
1:24:33 Samuel L. Jackson as a Jedi.
1:27:10 The Senate Chambers are a nice feature and I’m glad to see bureaucrats bureaucratting it up and recommending a committee to explore a planetary invasion. Ian McDiarmid hits homeruns throughout the Star Wars franchise and I’m glad that Lucas was able to use him in Return of the Jedi and bring him back many years later as a younger Senator Palpatine. When I meet George Lucas in a bar I think I’ll high-five him about McDiarmid and the original 3 movies. It’d be about 3 hours and several shots later that we’d be having fisticuffs about some of his changes to my childhood and the aforementioned Jar-Jar.
1:33:10 Liam Neeson, you best listen to Samuel L. Jackson and Yoda. When I’m President, I’m hiring Frank Oz and somebody who can work a Yoda puppet to advise me on all matters. Samuel L. Jackson will be my Secretary of State. Mother-#$@%ing North Korea and mother-#$@%ing Iran will get in line in a mother-#$@%ing hurry.
1:37:47 I’m also hiring the Queen’s Security guy, Captain Panaka, for something. He’s a poor man’s Samuel L. Jackson.
1:39:50 I don’t mind all Gungans. I actually like them. Some of my best friends are Gungan. It’s just the one…
1:43:00 General Jar-Jar. General Jar-Jar. General Jar-Jar.
1:45:25 Dilemma time. How much of the battle between Gungans and the droid army do I let the kid watch? Can I send him out into the lobby by himself while I watch it in 3D?
1:47:50 Also high on my priority list during the early part of my Presidency, an executive order making George Lucas do nothing but make movies about fighters in space. And Steven Spielberg can only collaborate with Tom Hanks on WWII movies/mini-series.
1:50:24 Doors open and Darth Maul is standing in front of the full group. With the John Williams soundtrack, I got major goosebumps. Liam Neeson says, “We’ll handle this.” Nice.
1:52:15 Light saber fights, blaster fire, space battles. I’m in heaven.
1:53:33 Jar-Jar with a battle droid stuck to his foot. He’s stomping and the droid is firing into other battle droids. Ugh.
1:54:55 All the Naboo people ascending on the outside of the palace to storm the throne room. Great scene.
1:56:20 What’s with the shielding to stop the light saber fights? On the flip-side, Liam Neeson kneeling down and meditating while Darth Maul stalks around like a caged animal is a great way to handle that.
1:58:53 When I originally saw the movie, I hated the Anakin piloting a starfighter plot point. Now, I’m a fan. Okay, maybe not a fan. But it’s not as bad as I remembered.
2:01:55 The Obi-Wan-Darth Maul duel >>>>>>>>>>> Obi-Wan-Darth Vader duel in Episode IV. Getting old sucks.
2:03:34 Mental note: When President, do not invest in massive droid army controlled by one computer.
2:04:16 I’m fairly certain my boy 1. Will not patiently sit through a two hour movie and 2. Will have horrific nightmares about Darth Maul. Starting to think we’ll need to have a sensory depravation chamber I can shove him into for certain scenes.
2:06:26 More Yodaisms = More Gooder.
2:08:40 The Naboo celebration parade < Ewok Celebration.
2:09:39 One last sly wink between Portman and Young Anakin before the credits. *shiver*
The Phantom Menace
I love Star Wars. The original, unedited version of A New Hope from my childhood with Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Chewbacca, and the Death Star almost getting the shot on the moon of Yavin before some farm kid bullseyes a womprat with his T-16. The Empire Strikes Back is also excellent with the battle on Hoth and Yoda with his Yodaisms. Return of the Jedi used to be my favorite of the three, but as I grew up, I put the childish Ewoks in their place in the pantheon of Star Wars. They're just great good vs. evil stories, lots of quotable lines, and good special effects for the time period.
I had the toys and a lot of memories to go with them. My limited edition Emperor Palpatine that Grandma sent off for is currently on the roof of Norcross Elementary school because he was using a handkerchief parachute and 2nd Grade Chris had a cannon for an arm. I remember the day I 'flew' my x-wing fighter down the trench of our sandbox. Sadly, I ended up more like Gold leader in my x-wing than Luke Skywalker because one of the wings snapped off. After watching my boy 'play' with his toys in the same destructive manner, I know now that my parents are highly intelligent people so I think I've finally forgiven them for not getting me the Imperial AT-AT and Millenium Falcon. There Mom and Dad, you made good parenting decisions because the amount of screaming I would have done when a leg fell off the Imperial walker... Wow.
A couple of my earliest memories involve going to the movies with my Dad. Two of the movies that I remember are E.T. and Return of the Jedi. In the late 1990s when George Lucas re-released the original trilogy leading up to the 3 prequels, I saw all of them on the first day they were out and each at least twice so I could see them on the big screen. That's when the wheels started to come off. Lucas changed quite a bit in A New Hope, most notably making Greedo shoot at Han Solo first and adding a scene with Jabba the Hutt where Han and Jabba have pretty much the same conversation Han and Greedo just had. Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi also had some stuff changed, but nothing that bothered me as much as the Greedo shoots first and Jabba scenes. There are two quotes, sources unknown, that perfectly sum up my feelings about the Speical Editions that came out in the late '90s. The first is "Show me on the Star Wars Trilogy where George Lucas hurt your childhood." and the second is "A great artist isn't finished when there is nothing left to add. A great artist is finished when there is nothing left to take away."
When the prequels came out, once again I was there on Opening Day for all three. Okay, I was in college, what else was I going to do? Go to class? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! Mom and Dad, ignore the beginning of this paragraph. Sure, I'm a nerd, but I didn't dress up in costume, so I can retain a little dignity. Not much, but a little. I came out of The Phantom Menace pretty much weeping. I hated it, and I'm usually the kind of guy who likes a movie the first time and it sours over time if I think about it (Independence Day is one of those movies for me). Not this one. Jar-Jar was horrendous and then here comes Young Anakin, just as bad as Jar-Jar. There were some good parts, but it really bothered me. I did go see the next two movies and thankfully, they were pretty good compared to The Phantom Menace. Even saw them both more than once before they left the theater. But I have definitely not seen any of the prequels since they left theaters 10 years ago.
Well, here we are in 2012. I have a 3 yr old boy who has watched Star Wars several times, fast forwarding through some of the more sensitive parts of course. He likes the robots and spaceships. You've seen the pictures of our Halloween costumes (I'm Luke with Lily Yoda strapped to my back, next to Owen Wan Kenobi). He owns a light saber. And my biggest goal as an adult was to have a son to take to the movie theater to see Star Wars. I want to watch him hit a homerun in t-ball and shout, "Great shot kid, that was one in a million!"
Beginning today, 2-10-12, PM is back in movie theaters as a 3D movie. This is my moment of glory, I can start taking my boy to see Star Wars in the movie theaters. Right? Well, because I am a somewhat competent parent, I needed to screen Phantom Menace to see what's in it. See when I would need to force potty breaks or an M&M run. I borrowed my Dad's copy and took advantage of my sinus infection waking me up at 5 AM to watch it. During the movie, I kept a running diary with my thoughts that I will post separately if you're as big of a nerd as I am and care to go through it. After watching it 13 years later, I still don't like the movie. There are parts of it that I really enjoy, but Jar-Jar and the Young Anakin characters really ruin the thing for me. I identified 3 points that would definitely need to be missed by a 3 yr old.
But then I came to a realization. Why should I expose my kid to a sub par movie? Or why should I pay to see Jar-Jar in 3D? As Jack Paar once said about politicians, "Don't vote, it only encourages them." I feel the same way about Phantom Menace in 3D. I'll wait a few years for the good Star Wars movies and take my boy to those when he's a little older. Until then, I will continue to be a great parent by making sure he doesn't learn about terrorism, 9/11, or Jar-Jar Binks before he is emotionally mature enough to handle the evil that exists in this world.
CK
I had the toys and a lot of memories to go with them. My limited edition Emperor Palpatine that Grandma sent off for is currently on the roof of Norcross Elementary school because he was using a handkerchief parachute and 2nd Grade Chris had a cannon for an arm. I remember the day I 'flew' my x-wing fighter down the trench of our sandbox. Sadly, I ended up more like Gold leader in my x-wing than Luke Skywalker because one of the wings snapped off. After watching my boy 'play' with his toys in the same destructive manner, I know now that my parents are highly intelligent people so I think I've finally forgiven them for not getting me the Imperial AT-AT and Millenium Falcon. There Mom and Dad, you made good parenting decisions because the amount of screaming I would have done when a leg fell off the Imperial walker... Wow.
A couple of my earliest memories involve going to the movies with my Dad. Two of the movies that I remember are E.T. and Return of the Jedi. In the late 1990s when George Lucas re-released the original trilogy leading up to the 3 prequels, I saw all of them on the first day they were out and each at least twice so I could see them on the big screen. That's when the wheels started to come off. Lucas changed quite a bit in A New Hope, most notably making Greedo shoot at Han Solo first and adding a scene with Jabba the Hutt where Han and Jabba have pretty much the same conversation Han and Greedo just had. Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi also had some stuff changed, but nothing that bothered me as much as the Greedo shoots first and Jabba scenes. There are two quotes, sources unknown, that perfectly sum up my feelings about the Speical Editions that came out in the late '90s. The first is "Show me on the Star Wars Trilogy where George Lucas hurt your childhood." and the second is "A great artist isn't finished when there is nothing left to add. A great artist is finished when there is nothing left to take away."
When the prequels came out, once again I was there on Opening Day for all three. Okay, I was in college, what else was I going to do? Go to class? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! Mom and Dad, ignore the beginning of this paragraph. Sure, I'm a nerd, but I didn't dress up in costume, so I can retain a little dignity. Not much, but a little. I came out of The Phantom Menace pretty much weeping. I hated it, and I'm usually the kind of guy who likes a movie the first time and it sours over time if I think about it (Independence Day is one of those movies for me). Not this one. Jar-Jar was horrendous and then here comes Young Anakin, just as bad as Jar-Jar. There were some good parts, but it really bothered me. I did go see the next two movies and thankfully, they were pretty good compared to The Phantom Menace. Even saw them both more than once before they left the theater. But I have definitely not seen any of the prequels since they left theaters 10 years ago.
Well, here we are in 2012. I have a 3 yr old boy who has watched Star Wars several times, fast forwarding through some of the more sensitive parts of course. He likes the robots and spaceships. You've seen the pictures of our Halloween costumes (I'm Luke with Lily Yoda strapped to my back, next to Owen Wan Kenobi). He owns a light saber. And my biggest goal as an adult was to have a son to take to the movie theater to see Star Wars. I want to watch him hit a homerun in t-ball and shout, "Great shot kid, that was one in a million!"
Beginning today, 2-10-12, PM is back in movie theaters as a 3D movie. This is my moment of glory, I can start taking my boy to see Star Wars in the movie theaters. Right? Well, because I am a somewhat competent parent, I needed to screen Phantom Menace to see what's in it. See when I would need to force potty breaks or an M&M run. I borrowed my Dad's copy and took advantage of my sinus infection waking me up at 5 AM to watch it. During the movie, I kept a running diary with my thoughts that I will post separately if you're as big of a nerd as I am and care to go through it. After watching it 13 years later, I still don't like the movie. There are parts of it that I really enjoy, but Jar-Jar and the Young Anakin characters really ruin the thing for me. I identified 3 points that would definitely need to be missed by a 3 yr old.
But then I came to a realization. Why should I expose my kid to a sub par movie? Or why should I pay to see Jar-Jar in 3D? As Jack Paar once said about politicians, "Don't vote, it only encourages them." I feel the same way about Phantom Menace in 3D. I'll wait a few years for the good Star Wars movies and take my boy to those when he's a little older. Until then, I will continue to be a great parent by making sure he doesn't learn about terrorism, 9/11, or Jar-Jar Binks before he is emotionally mature enough to handle the evil that exists in this world.
CK
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Circus Recap
It's a few days later than I would have liked, but I haven't really felt like writing anything at 4 or 5 in the morning lately. That's the time I've been getting up thanks to a wonderful sinus infection/baby that refuses to sleep through the night.
On Saturday, we dropped our girl off with my parents and headed downtown to catch the light rail train in to the arena. Even though it was a little cold and rainy, Owen was pretty excited about going. Especially about the train ride. He spent the whole time staring out the window and talking about the other trains we passed. Since he rides for free, we only had to pay $7 for the wife and I roundtrip. And that't the end of the reasonable pricing.
We got to the arena right before the doors opened and it didn't take long to shove the other families aside and get in. We grabbed our tickets from will call and started looking for a popcorn vendor, cotton candy vendor, and our section. Thankfully, an usher told us to go down on the floor for the pre-show before going to our seats. Good call. You go down on the floor for about 45 minutes before the start of the circus to get up close and personal with clowns, performers, and animals. That was really cool and I learned something I didn't know about my boy. My son understands slapstick as evidenced by his laughing hysterically when a clown falls on his face. Okay, maybe Owen takes his cue from me laughing at him when he falls on his face, but he's learned an important lesson nonetheless. Laughing at other's misfortune is fun.
We saw the horses up close, but the coolest thing we saw up close was the elephant they brought out. It amazes me how those things can move as big as they are. Owen loved looking at it. It painted a couple of pictures for us with it's trunk. They kind of looked like an abstract watercolor which I felt really expressed the elephant's desire to eat an entire loaf of bread in one bite. Which elephant got to do after painting for us. One recommendation if you ever find yourself at the circus pre-show, don't stand to the side or you risk staring at this for a while:
After the pre-show, we made our way to upper deck and our seats. On the way, we picked up one bag of $4 popcorn, hit the potty, and I started to stand in line for cotton candy. The line was ridiculous as cotton candy was also being sold with glowing necklaces, elephant snow cones, and push a button spinning epilepsy causers. I bailed since the circus was about to start and they had guys working the stands. Long story short, I never did get my hands on cotton candy, so there's no way the circus experience could rate any higher than 5 out of 10 for me. During intermission, Owen and I grabbed another bag of popcorn and one bottle of diet coke for the family. I was going to buy two bottles, but they were $4.50 a piece. I'm also proud of myself for not hitting the extra butter dispenser on either box of popcorn. There's no need to turn a 1,500 calorie popcorn into a 2,500 calorie one. I was also thrilled to see you can get a beer at the circus. The good news is that you can buy a "beer." The bad news? Here are your choices and the price.
It was a big decision where we would buy our tickets and I tried very hard to find a happy medium between cost effective and decent seats. I thought we struck a pretty good balance with front row of the upper deck between the middle and outside ring when I hit the buy button. I was wrong. They had handicap seating in front of us, so anyone under 6' 4" in height is staring at the back of someone's head for anything happening on the floor on your side of the arena. If you're 3 years old, you're staring at the back of someone's head for everything. If there is an act using the far side of the arena, you're looking through the overhead scaffolding/lighting. Specifically, we were amazed by the magical tightrope walking legs because we couldn't see any of their torsos. At least I assume they didn't have torsos, don't ruin it for me.
The best parts were definitely the clowns, trained horses, and the tigers. The butt of his chair that flipped up and down was pretty awesome too. I would assume the elephants and motorcycles in cages were awesome too, but somebody had quite enough of the circus by the halfway point and wanted to go home. We talked him into staying through intermission and watched the tiger trainer standing in front of our seats with him on my shoulders. He was begging to go home, even trying to run out of the section. He almost went to tears when we came back from intermission and I had to lure him back with the popcorn.
We gave up and headed for home, probably 30 minutes before the end. We were not the only ones on the platform to catch the train home and I was happy not to have to fight my way through the crowd. All in all, I think I would give the circus a thumbs up, but took some lessons away for next time. First, we needed to be a lot closer to the floor. I think being able to see more stuff would have helped keep his interest. Second, the pre-show is really cool and well worth getting there an hour early. If they sold a cheap ticket that let you just hang out before the show and then an elephant picks you up and hauls you out of the arena before the real show starts, I'm in. Third, bring your own snacks (flask) and be prepared to tackle a cotton candy vendor.
Since my opinion doesn't matter, I asked Owen what he thought of the circus. According to him, his favorite part of the circus was the popcorn. After watching him double fist shovel it into his mouth, I would say that's accurate. He's also been talking about how much he liked the tigers. Based on the quiet sobbing during the tiger trainer part, I don't think that's as accurate. His least favorite part of the circus was "A cupcake." I asked if his least favorite part was that they didn't have cupcakes and he nodded yes. When asked how much he would pay to go back to the circus I got a few answers before getting an actual number. These were: "It's Thursday," "R" [the letter], and "I would like to watch tv." I finally pinned him down to put a number on a ticket, he said 2. Pay attention Ringling Brothers, don't make a 4 year old cry next year when he sees $19 and a $4.70 Ticketmaster convenience fee. Lastly, I asked him to give the circus a thumbs up or thumbs down. After careful and thoughtful consideration, he went thumbs up. Next year I'm letting his grandparents take him.
CK
On Saturday, we dropped our girl off with my parents and headed downtown to catch the light rail train in to the arena. Even though it was a little cold and rainy, Owen was pretty excited about going. Especially about the train ride. He spent the whole time staring out the window and talking about the other trains we passed. Since he rides for free, we only had to pay $7 for the wife and I roundtrip. And that't the end of the reasonable pricing.
We got to the arena right before the doors opened and it didn't take long to shove the other families aside and get in. We grabbed our tickets from will call and started looking for a popcorn vendor, cotton candy vendor, and our section. Thankfully, an usher told us to go down on the floor for the pre-show before going to our seats. Good call. You go down on the floor for about 45 minutes before the start of the circus to get up close and personal with clowns, performers, and animals. That was really cool and I learned something I didn't know about my boy. My son understands slapstick as evidenced by his laughing hysterically when a clown falls on his face. Okay, maybe Owen takes his cue from me laughing at him when he falls on his face, but he's learned an important lesson nonetheless. Laughing at other's misfortune is fun.
We saw the horses up close, but the coolest thing we saw up close was the elephant they brought out. It amazes me how those things can move as big as they are. Owen loved looking at it. It painted a couple of pictures for us with it's trunk. They kind of looked like an abstract watercolor which I felt really expressed the elephant's desire to eat an entire loaf of bread in one bite. Which elephant got to do after painting for us. One recommendation if you ever find yourself at the circus pre-show, don't stand to the side or you risk staring at this for a while:
 |
| Thankfully, Owen didn't ask if that was the elephant's trunk. |
After the pre-show, we made our way to upper deck and our seats. On the way, we picked up one bag of $4 popcorn, hit the potty, and I started to stand in line for cotton candy. The line was ridiculous as cotton candy was also being sold with glowing necklaces, elephant snow cones, and push a button spinning epilepsy causers. I bailed since the circus was about to start and they had guys working the stands. Long story short, I never did get my hands on cotton candy, so there's no way the circus experience could rate any higher than 5 out of 10 for me. During intermission, Owen and I grabbed another bag of popcorn and one bottle of diet coke for the family. I was going to buy two bottles, but they were $4.50 a piece. I'm also proud of myself for not hitting the extra butter dispenser on either box of popcorn. There's no need to turn a 1,500 calorie popcorn into a 2,500 calorie one. I was also thrilled to see you can get a beer at the circus. The good news is that you can buy a "beer." The bad news? Here are your choices and the price.
 |
| Only the best. |
It was a big decision where we would buy our tickets and I tried very hard to find a happy medium between cost effective and decent seats. I thought we struck a pretty good balance with front row of the upper deck between the middle and outside ring when I hit the buy button. I was wrong. They had handicap seating in front of us, so anyone under 6' 4" in height is staring at the back of someone's head for anything happening on the floor on your side of the arena. If you're 3 years old, you're staring at the back of someone's head for everything. If there is an act using the far side of the arena, you're looking through the overhead scaffolding/lighting. Specifically, we were amazed by the magical tightrope walking legs because we couldn't see any of their torsos. At least I assume they didn't have torsos, don't ruin it for me.
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| It's the greatest show of shadow heads on Earth! |
The best parts were definitely the clowns, trained horses, and the tigers. The butt of his chair that flipped up and down was pretty awesome too. I would assume the elephants and motorcycles in cages were awesome too, but somebody had quite enough of the circus by the halfway point and wanted to go home. We talked him into staying through intermission and watched the tiger trainer standing in front of our seats with him on my shoulders. He was begging to go home, even trying to run out of the section. He almost went to tears when we came back from intermission and I had to lure him back with the popcorn.
We gave up and headed for home, probably 30 minutes before the end. We were not the only ones on the platform to catch the train home and I was happy not to have to fight my way through the crowd. All in all, I think I would give the circus a thumbs up, but took some lessons away for next time. First, we needed to be a lot closer to the floor. I think being able to see more stuff would have helped keep his interest. Second, the pre-show is really cool and well worth getting there an hour early. If they sold a cheap ticket that let you just hang out before the show and then an elephant picks you up and hauls you out of the arena before the real show starts, I'm in. Third, bring your own snacks (flask) and be prepared to tackle a cotton candy vendor.
Since my opinion doesn't matter, I asked Owen what he thought of the circus. According to him, his favorite part of the circus was the popcorn. After watching him double fist shovel it into his mouth, I would say that's accurate. He's also been talking about how much he liked the tigers. Based on the quiet sobbing during the tiger trainer part, I don't think that's as accurate. His least favorite part of the circus was "A cupcake." I asked if his least favorite part was that they didn't have cupcakes and he nodded yes. When asked how much he would pay to go back to the circus I got a few answers before getting an actual number. These were: "It's Thursday," "R" [the letter], and "I would like to watch tv." I finally pinned him down to put a number on a ticket, he said 2. Pay attention Ringling Brothers, don't make a 4 year old cry next year when he sees $19 and a $4.70 Ticketmaster convenience fee. Lastly, I asked him to give the circus a thumbs up or thumbs down. After careful and thoughtful consideration, he went thumbs up. Next year I'm letting his grandparents take him.
CK
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