Uncool or Just Very Specific?

Dear Most Lovely People,

How do I miss thee...

Yours,

Ev



So it's been a while. I'm am not angry or upset. The simple fact is that the addition of Bonus Baby to the house for about 9 hours a day has not presented me with much free time. So much so, that when it happens I tend to find things I really need to catch up on. Like showering.

I was fortunate enough to catch a little bit of a break last week when my mom came into town for a visit. I love when she comes to town. She's one of those type of guests that requires very little entertaining. She's there for the grandkids, and that's as much as she asks for really. That and vegetables to be in the house. Fair enough.

Along with her annual visit, Melissa and I get a date night or two. It's become such a rare thing that it's almost as if we've started dating all over again. While this might seem sort of romantic or maybe even a chance to renew the spark that tends to settle when you find yourself with only a handful of hours alone each night, for me it puts a lot of pressure into the evening.

Here's what I mean - We planned two nights out together, and while we were given no guidelines or time limits, we set up my mom as best we could. Meaning, we fed the kids and tried to get them in a state that they would have about an hour to wind down before bedtime. Nice, easy evening for my mom.

We approached both nights with the same conversation:

Anything you want to do?
Nope, you?
No...

The topic went in circles over where to eat and what we might do afterwards. We both agreed that there didn't seem to be any movies playing that we had the slightest desire to go see, and I made the point that seeing something just for the sake of seeing something had a strong chance of ending with me falling asleep, not that I'd complain. So both evenings would find me driving aimlessly toward nothing, and Melissa would get irritated over the feeling that I was putting the pressure on her to come up with some fantastical idea for us to act out. She was partially right on that notion.

Then, like many parents, we hit the big question:

 Are we uncool now? Have our kids made us uncool?

Let me first answer that question with, no. It's easy to let that idea creep in, though. We found ourselves with an amazing opportunity to get out of the house and do anything at all. Anything. Yet we drew a blank until it became a valid idea to go pick up some last minute groceries. It's a frustrating thing to have some freedom and no clue what to do with it.

Then it dawned on me that cool-status was not the issue. It was expectations.

I spend a lot of time looking outside. I wonder what's going on out there. Most importantly, I spend a lot of time thinking about what I would do if I could be like those people out there. Walking around without even thinking about what a gift it is just to be out there walking around. Being a stay-at-home parent is a very important job. A job unlike any other. However, it often carries with it a sacrifice that few outside the circle can understand. So when that rare chance at freedom comes along, we want, no, it must be perfect. It must be magical. When it comes to dinner, a chance at something new sounds great! Unless the food is bad, because the food can't be bad on that most rare of occasions out of the house. A movie? Sure, but it can't be one of those movies that would work just as well on the TV a few months later. It has to be something that can't be missed on that big screen. As the sun begins to set, we can go for a walk. It just can't be through an area filled with spiderwebs or graffiti or a ton of dirt, because when we kiss I don't want to open my eyes and see I've been standing in the local dog's latest work. I want several months of magic in an evening, because it often needs to tide us over that long.

Perhaps this is a venting of sorts. Perhaps it is a reminder to get out more. Either way, I'd argue that we are not the least bit uncool. We or I, however, have very specific expectations for any evening we are out together. That's what can make date night so stressful.

Don't Concuss at Me

One of the most dangerous things you need to worry about as a parent, is your child. Kids have a seemingly natural tendency to "express their love" by unconventional means. Not all the time. You get the hugs and kisses, sometimes without even asking for them, but there are those times when you also get smacked a little too hard in the back or receive a swift kick to the nuggets. I'm not saying you should feel unsafe at the top of the stairs or at a subway platform when you are alone with a toddler, but I think you should be careful. As a rule. An accident happens by accident so you have to be aware that even your most trusted friend can cause you a great deal of pain without meaning to hurt you.

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My junior year was my favorite year of high school. I had a very tight-knit group of friends who would get together frequently. From going out to eat to spending hours hanging out at someone's home, we had fun doing simple, harmless things. I can only hope our parents took note of that, because even our most wild night was tame. I developed friendships over that year that have stood the test of time. We would never to anything to hurt each other. Right?

Anyone who is familiar with band nerd protocol is probably aware that before school starts, you go hang out in the band room. Over the course of high school, your band mates are the people you see the most, so it makes sense that the people you form such a strong bond with are also the first people you want to talk to as the day begins. Likewise the band folks who drove to school would try and park as close as possible to the band room door, knowing that it would be the door they would use at the beginning and end of the day.

So it was not surprising that as I pulled into a parking spot very close to our special door one morning, I looked over to see two of my very best friends parked in the next spot. Their eyes were closed, listening to some music and patiently waiting for the doors to be unlocked so we could pile in the band room and regale each other with tales of things that had occurred in the 12 hours since we had last seen each other. Clearly I must have had something to talk about that couldn't wait, because that morning I exited my car and found my way to their driver's side window. I remember wanting to give my friend in the driver's seat a bit of a scare, and so as they both sat there with their eyes closed, I took position with my face close to the window, waiting for his eyes to open to my ugly mug inches from his place of rest.

I don't remember how long I was waiting, but I was willing to put the time in for my little joke. His eyes remained closed, as did his passenger, one of our close female friends. Eventually she opened her eyes and greeted me with a big smile. She began talking, but with their windows up I couldn't hear a thing from inside. I assume she was going on about how I was right outside the window, and how clever and funny that was of me, and how so many girls in school wanted to go out with me, you know, things like that. He remained sitting with his eyes closed and began to grin in an odd way. Evidently at some point she told him to open his door really quickly. My very good friend, who would go on to be the best man in my wedding party, did not question this idea because...well, because boobs. So in complete trust of her advice, he pushed the door open with as much strength as he could gather at that time in the morning.

And then I don't remember things that clearly.

I know I was in the band room getting a very concerning talk from my band director about something on my head. Whatever that means. I know I had a similar conversation during my first class because I couldn't "focus." Then there was some kind of drama involving my mom coming to school to get me and that I was not to be allowed to sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time. Either way, I got a few very nice phone calls that evening asking if I needed anything. Isn't that nice?

A similar incident happened over the weekend with Carter.

Carter has a new favorite toy. It's one of those toys that has an arrow pointing to one of a bunch of different animals, and if you pull the lever on the side you hear something along the lines of, "The cow says, 'moooooo" You all know the one. A speak and say. Carter decided that when he's ready to play with it, he would let me know by slamming it down on my lap with a massive smile on his face. The smile is to make sure I'm aware that it's done in a happy way, not an angry way. Since he has managed to avoid hitting me in the dangle thus far, I have been very tolerant of his method. So all was well and good till this weekend when I was taking a well deserved moment of rest on the couch. William was in a rare mood of actually sitting still to watch some cartoons and Carter was running around playing with whatever struck him in the moment. His sights must have set on his speak and say at some point because I remember seeing the quick flash of a cow and a goat, but it all goes fuzzy afterwards. I know that Melissa said something about a thing on my head, and then she was going on about a doctor's appointment and something my eyes were doing. I don't know, it was hard to focus.

It actually reminds me of this time in high school! A really good friend of mine was sitting in his car with this girl. They were listening to the radio in the morning.....

My point is - Be careful out there parents.

Art to Adorable

In a long list of things we needed to finalize in Florida before we moved to Idaho, I was told very sternly to get into my father's attic and clean out several boxes of random items that had been kept from my childhood. There was an endless pile of drawings from all throughout my life. Melissa insisted I keep a few from my high school art classes, but did not object to getting rid of my detailed blueprints for a spaceship. One unfortunate side effect of divorce, something the psychiatrists won't tell you, is that your childhood scribbles and memorabilia tends to split up as well. While that's all perfectly sensible, parents seem to go through a stage in life where hanging on to a picture of an unidentifiable blue mass is no longer important. So after feeling I'd seen the last odd box containing an MC Hammer concert ticket at my dad's house, I was a little frustrated to start the process over with a steady line of packages sent from my mom.

There was some element of fun in looking through all the drawings and school projects, most of which I had long forgotten. Still, I was not compelled at all to keep any of it and most ended up in the trash. I meant no offense to my parents by it, I'm sure at some point those things held meaning, but I couldn't help but think how long that stuff sat around waiting to be thrown away. I just barely want to show the boys the stuff Melissa made me keep, let alone proclaim, "Yes! Daddy was the one who drew...that."

We have one art project that William did adorning our refrigerator door. He wanted to decorate a cake like daddy does, isn't that sweet? So we found a cake picture from a coloring book and he went nuts with it. Outside of that, the boys are not at an age yet where they've attempted to actually draw anything.

I got to thinking a little bit, and I don't want this to come across as insensitive. I was wondering how long you need to keep something on the fridge before it's acceptable to take it down. Not that I'm saying parents ever get bored with seeing the artistic stages of their children displayed, but seriously, you have to run out of space eventually right? I'm sure not everyone is like us, but we keep a great deal of information on our refrigerator because it is a major focal point. Keeping things like important phone numbers, any number of reminders, or just a nice simple family photo takes up valuable real estate. Of course there's the technology to consider as well. Undoubtedly Apple will come out with the iFridge because we've all been there in the moment when you realize that you can't check facebook while opening the door and getting all the breakfast necessities out for the kiddos. I'm pretty excited. Likely we'll be able to store billions of their pictures in some kind of app, but there's nothing quite as personal as seeing the drawing in real life.

That's what I thought anyway...

Till I saw a feature on one of my favorite websites promoting a company called "Child's Own Studio" and if you're like me, you'll be blown away at what they do. Clearly companies like this have been around for some time, which is sad because I have plenty of friends with kids but I've never seen them mention this type of service. I think this is the type of thing parents love! I looked through a mountain of drawings I had done over my life and felt no spark of attachment, but I think having the one stuffed toy based on a drawing by me, that was special to my parents, would certainly be a bit of a treasured item. Needless to say it would be one of those items that the boys are not allowed to touch until they understand how to not destroy everything.

I became very excited by the prospect of turning artwork into something the boys could hold, sleep next to, and find comfort with. Sadly, with the amazing gallery must have come popularity as described on the studio's contact page saying they are working their way through a backlog of orders and are therefore not accepting new orders at this time. So perhaps even more awesome of Child's Own, they have provided a list of alternative places where you can find this type of service. That's if you're not willing to wait I assume.

I am so very fascinated with this so please, if you have used a place like this before or you, like me, are intrigued and go forth to have a toy made, leave a comment! Let myself and all the readers know how your experience was, and by all means send me a picture of the finished product!

A Therapeutic Note

Every year I go through the phase of "What if I had continued on with my music education degree?" I have no regrets really, because in the end I wanted something that really wasn't being a band director. I wanted to work with bands without administrative red tape. There are jobs within most band programs that fill that idea, but not many, and not full time.

I love music in most forms, and I feel it's a bit of a "cause" for me because of how important it has been in my life, and how I believe it truly helps people. Which is why I was really excited to find that a good friend had taken a route with music that not enough people think about - music therapy. There's a feeling as you approach college as a music student that your options are either to teach music or play music, but that's just not the case. So I'd like to shed a little light on the work done by Metro Music Therapy and while they may not be in your area, perhaps you or someone you know could benefit from the services offered by groups like them to people of all ages.

Music therapy has been around about as long as instruments have. Through the centuries it's been said that music could rid a person of demons, delay madness in mental patients, purify the soul, or even aid with healing of diseases. Modern music therapy really began with veterans from World War I and II. Musicians, some quite famous, were sent to hospitals to play for soldiers suffering from mental and physical trauma as the result of battle. The results of these musical interactions were discussed for years. William Congreve wrote that now famous (often misquoted) line, "Music hath charms to soothe a savage beast..." but did you know it goes on to say, "...to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak." Congreve was on to something there, music takes hold of people in an almost indescribable way.

So what is modern music therapy? From the website, "Music Therapy is the clinical and evidence-based use of music interventions to accomplish individualized goals within a therapeutic relationship by a credentialed professional who has completed an approved music therapy program. It is an established health service similar to occupational therapy and physical therapy and consists of using music therapeutically to address physical, psychological, cognitive and/or social functioning for clients of all ages." In short, music therapists work with people who have any number of disabilities and use music to help in the way they live. If you are a mother who had a special "labor mix" on your iPod, you have used music therapeutically. So this is an idea that many people have used in their life while perhaps not knowing it. I took this opportunity to ask my friend, Mallory Even - who owns and operates Metro Music Therapy, a few questions that go outside the realm of the information provided on the website.

My first question was the one I was most interested to hear the answer. As a former music education major, I'm well aware that music therapy is not an obvious choice to most people. It's something Mallory aims to change for other students.

With so many career choices involving music, what made you choose music therapy?
"I actually thought I wanted to be a band director throughout my time in high school, so I started out as a music education major my freshman year at Florida State. During one of our general music courses, Dr. Jayne Standley came to speak to our class about her work as a music therapist in the NICU. I had never heard of music therapy before,which I now think is sad and have made it a mission of mine to educate high school students about music therapy as a career choice. I was completely amazed that there was a field that combined my love for music and my passion for helping people. That same day, I walked into Dr. Standley’s office and told her I wanted to change my major."

Dr. Standley has done some amazing work with pre-mature babies. Her research and efforts with The Florida State University has found them third in the nation for music therapy programs. You can learn more about Dr. Standley and her work right here.

How would people find out about music therapy groups in their area? Would it be doctor referral, internet/word of mouth searching, little of both? 
"If searching for a music therapist in your area, I would start with either The American Music Therapy Association (www.musictherapy.org) or the Certification Board for Music Therapists (www.cbmt.org) – both have databases to help people find music therapists throughout the United States. A doctor’s referral is always a plus (especially if you are hoping to have insurance coverage for music therapy services), and even speech, occupational or physical therapists in your area can be great resources since a lot of music therapists network with those other therapeutic disciplines. (Of course, the internet/word of mouth is always a good option, too!)"

An important thing to reinforce there is that many insurance companies cover some or all of the costs of these therapy sessions.

I'm sure there are tough days (right?), tell me a story about a good moment that keeps you going.
"Definitely tough days ... not only while working with challenging clients, but also as a small business owner in a field that can still be considered “new” or “different” by the general population. But, the work that we do is so rewarding that it makes it all worth it. One of my favorite moments as a music therapist could have been easily overlooked by an outsider – as a lot of our “it” moments can be – but, luckily my five-year-old client’s mother was in the room during our session that day. This little girl, we’ll call her “Bella”, was hearing impaired and had recently undergone surgery for bilateral cochlear implants – a surgery that is decided upon by a lot of families only after much thought and consideration for their child’s future. As usual, I started our session with the “hello” song (a simple song I had sung so many times before while Bella would look at me and smile, but usually never make a sound) ... “Hello Bella, Hello Bella, Hello Bella, it’s time to say hello!” That morning Bella waved and smiled, but didn’t vocalize anything with me. I told Bella I wanted to sing the song again, and this time I wanted her to try really hard and sing her name with me. “Hello Bella, Hello Bella, Hello Bella, it’s time to say hello!” After I was finished singing that phrase, she looked me straight in the eye and said, “Bel-la.”

“Yea, Bella! That was wonderful!! Let’s do it again!!” And we did. We must have sung the “hello” song ten times that day. Bella’s mother remained very quiet and got very teary-eyed as we continued to sing, and finally looked at me and said, “That is the first time she has ever said her name.”

There are so many touching moments that make up a music therapist’s career. The elderly dementia patient that can’t remember their name, where they live, or who their family members are, but who can sing every word to the song, “You Are My Sunshine,” and who smile for the first time in days because you brought that musical memory to them; the child with Autism who remains isolated and withdrawn in their usual daily activities, but engages in eye contact, close proximity to peers, and appropriate social skills during the instrument-play activity in their weekly music therapy group. The changes evoked through music can sometimes appear to be subtle, but as a whole, music therapists are doing some big things."

Ya know, it's easy to dismiss a profession that traces back to ideas of tribes performing rituals of song and dance to cure illness. Yet, we live in a world that has blamed death and tragedy on music time and time again. It's clear that people know that music is a powerful thing, but I'm not sure people know how beautifully powerful it can become when channeled in the right way. We all have a song that brings a smile to our face, ones that makes us feel calm or remind us of a perfect moment, and using that idea to help people is pretty special. These amazing people design programs for each individual person which can even include instrument lessons. It's clearly rewarding and an industry that deserves a little spotlight.

If you know of someone who might benefit from music therapy. Look into it, please!

Again, check out www.musictherapy.org and www.cbmt.org to find someone in your area and do me the added favor, if you will, of either commenting below or sending Mallory an email to:  mallory@metromusictherapyga.com and let her and her staff know to keep up this great work.

He is Happy!

Lately, William has made bedtime a struggle. I'm not just talking about our little scare the other night, which by the way has not happened again, the new safety door lock is amazing. No, it's much more than that. When we close his door at night, we do so with the understanding that the room we saw as we left will not be there in the morning. William has taken to a variety of tasks before actually falling asleep. Things like putting on extra clothing, flipping his mattress over, or taking the majority of his clothes out of the dresser. In the end, I'll take cleaning up the clothes over finding that he's been playing outside while everyone was asleep, but it would still be nice of him to cut me a break. A little one?

He is growing up, no doubt about that, and with new levels of expectations comes new levels of stressful situations. Potty training is proof of that. When your kids are very young there is always a lot of discussion of milestones or normalcy for their age groups. We as parents are trained, in a way, to expect certain things to occur with our kids within a set time frame. Tonight I was reminded that I've never thought to ask if my son was happy. No one told me at what age I should check into that. I see his smiling face and hear his laughter which indicates happiness, but even though I know William doesn't say very much (although lately he has been kicking that habit), it's only fair that I would ask him at some point.


Tonight while I was washing some dishes, Melissa came downstairs and announced, "You need to come look at your son." Melissa and I have a general rule when it comes to the boys, and I think it's a pretty common thing for parents. Phrases like, "That's my boy" are for when we want to personally take credit for something. On the other hand, "your son" is generally followed by something not necessarily bad, just something we want to pretend doesn't stem from watching us. Considering it was well past the time he should have been asleep, I was assuming it had something to do with dad's inherited "angry sleeping face." Yeah, I sleep with a very displeased face.

I was informed that he had put on a pair of underwear over his pajamas, which really isn't that bad. It was so much better! He had put on six totally different socks, three on each foot. I'll admit that I like to keep the house a little on the cold side, I run hot, but 3 socks per foot seems like overkill. He was in fact wearing underwear over his pajamas...backwards. Awesome. Also my personal favorite, a single sock on his right hand. It's the kind of outfit women think of when the picture that perfect guy. William is way ahead of the curve.

Melissa woke him up, as he had pulled the top mattress off again. We got him all settled in and Melissa walked out of the door, saying good night. I stood for a few moments with a big grin on my face. Stuff like this, is the kind of ridiculous that makes people want to have kids. I believe that. I leaned in, gave him a tight squeeze, and a kiss. With one more stupid grin moment, I turned to leave saying, "You look silly, buddy."

From a rather sleepy face, "I'm HAPPY!"

So I've got that goin' for me...

Angry sleep.

The Blame Knight Rises

Tragedy happens far too often.

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I went to midnight showings for two movies. The first was the release of episode one of Star Wars. I did that completely legit. I waited in line for hours, I got my tickets, I saw the movie, I went home and cried for a few hours about how bad it was. The second time was for the first Lord of the Rings movie. A friend who was the manager of the theater got me in for the employee viewing.

I never got into the idea that seeing a movie sooner made it better. Maybe that's why I don't understand why people think it's cool to say "First" in comment sections of...everything. I don't like lines and I hate feeling like my personal space bubble has been popped forever. I think I understand why other people do it, and why some choose to dress up as characters from the movies, but it's not for me. If it were possible, I'd love to go and always be alone in the theater or just have a few friends with me. Perhaps that's why lately we tend to wait for the DVD release, or even the TV premier.

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I have wanted to write a little on some current topics that have been floating around lately, and the shooting in Aurora is one of those topics. I'm still very new to blogging and sometimes I get the urge to run before walking, but something told me that people were going to be popping out write ups pretty fast. I guess I didn't realize how quick that would happen. The morning after the shootings, as more and more information was making itself public, many bloggers were clacking away at their keyboards, salivating over being the first one to click publish on their post. As a steady outflow of posts began to make it's way on to my twitter feed, I was reminded of a time when I was young. I was maybe ten or eleven and one of the neighborhood kids and I were having ourselves a heated little argument. Since I was so young at the time, I assume it was about which was better - bomb pops or orange push-ups. As the tension rose to the point of emanate fighting, I started to lose it a bit. I was so angry that everything I said was utterly stupid and made no sense at all. I would get my words out of order, and everyone watching would laugh, adding to my frustration of trying to explain how upset I was getting.

It doesn't matter what happened afterward, for the point of what I'm saying here is reacting to anything at your highest point of anger doesn't work. Reacting to things before you really know what's going on is dangerous, and desperately rushing to react at all will often leave you stumbling so bad that you lose the entire point of what you wanted to say.

I can't say if anyone regrets their knee-jerk posts or if they feel compelled to add or subtract from their statements. I will say that I was really disappointed with the theme of posts that were pumping out before the dust had even settled inside the theater.

Not surprising, it was all about who to point the finger at.

Blame Hollywood. Blame Warner Brothers. Blame Democrats. Blame Republicans. Blame the guy's parents. Blame local police. Blame the theater. Blame the people who were inside the theater.

I saw posts that encouraged blame to almost everything in the world with the exception of the whack job who found himself pointing a weapon at innocent people. It oddly reminded me of this post from Bekki at Chasing Supermom. I was hopeful that someone would just tell people to call off the dogs. I was concerned that amidst this outpour of grief from a small town, so many people sitting comfortable in their chairs sipping coffee, took to the internet to scream at each other, and I really wanted it to stop. Don't get me wrong, I saw compassion on that day. I saw messages of love and sorrow because in general, these horrible things tend to bring out the best in some people. Some people.

Sadly, many of these posts became a feeding ground of comments and finger pointing. Many people noted the baiting headlines and subject matter. As I stated, I'm new to the blogging world, and perhaps I'm just not sly enough to realize that if I really want people to read my work, I need to use titles like "Women are stupid," "Shut up women, there's a man about to talk," or "10 reasons why men are just better at everything ever." I find it a little sad that there's a need to resort to trick tactics in the blogging arena to become "popular" but perhaps that's why I don't get many views each day (be on the lookout for my post next week: "You, yes YOU, don't know how to do ANYTHING cause you are a DUMMYHEAD!").

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I'm going to close this with a story from my recent camping trip. A friend of mine received some heart wrenching news while we were on the trip. A troubled co-worker had killed himself. I've been in his shoes before, and watching him go through the instant pain of hearing the news was hard and brought up some of my own memories of dealing with that type of loss. In the middle of so much pain, it seems to be the natural human response to reach out for something to blame. A way to put an image in your mind of where to direct all the anger. The question of "why" becomes a sort of quest, as if the answer will make everything better. We talk about how we would have done things so differently, so much better, and so much smarter. We talk about our own adversities and how we've managed to overcomes them and be so well adjusted. I think we do this to distance ourselves; to pretend that in our world, tragedies of such a horrible nature never happen. We're all very smart and in control of our lives. Reality is normally much more simplistic than the worlds we see in movies. It's supposed to be. Movies are meant to offer a place of joyful escape be it thrilling adventures in space or spontaneously finding true love in a diner, but our lives are no more Gotham City than they are Mayfield.

Blame won't bring anyone peace. I would offer instead the idea that when tragedies like this arise, it is a great time for thoughtful conversation, not angry ramblings. It's a great time to remind yourself of the people you love and the need to make your time with them special. It's a great time to try and push forward, not stand still and scream. This tragic shooting, and situations like it, are not rational, and they are not carried out by rational people. Trying to connect the dots of "why" is a long, unending road because you won't find reason where it doesn't exist.

I doubt anyone who I took note of as a person who felt they had the entire situation figured out during a time when many news organizations were still using the term "alleged shooting," actually reads my tiny blip of internet. However, many people read their blogs, and from time to time that includes me. I have to say, sometimes the successful people in any given field, suck.

Seriously, the fact that people were writing hateful, insensitive, blame-crazy things to those who had just lost loved ones, including kids...is disgusting. No one deserves that.

True Fear

"True Fear." That's how Melissa described our morning yesterday on her facebook page. Less than 24 hours after having a great compliment about how amazing we are as parents we found ourselves scared, standing with our mouths open, wide-eyed, and our hearts racing. Why? William had a little adventure time last night.

We have many of these door knob locks around the house. There's a certain level of comfort to them, but in all honesty, they are easy to bypass. With enough of a pull, the two halves will disconnect exposing the door knob and you're a twist away from freedom. William figured that out last night. We learned this as we were snuggled up on the couch watching some evening TV before Melissa turned in for her early bedtime. We were talking and trying, as usual, to clear some of our shows from the DVR, when up strolls William as calm and normal as he would at any point during the day. This, however, was not during the day! William was supposed to be in bed, and the knob safety device was supposed to be keeping him in his room.

We escorted him back upstairs to find the separated halves of the safety lock on the floor. I snapped everything back into place, double checking that it was connected correctly. We said our good night, after explaining that he needed to stay in his room and it was not safe to just run around on his own like that. After ten minutes, Melissa looks upstairs to see William going back and forth between his room and ours. We decide to up the level of protection. I once again attach the "safety lock" and additionally added a safety gate outside his door, hoping that if he decides to get the door open again, he'd be defeated by the gate in the way.

Long after Melissa had gone to bed, William had made no apparent attempt to escape and I decided to call it a night. I peaked into his room once more and found him sleeping soundly which always brings a smile to my face.

I have two alarms in the morning. One goes off as a reminder to make sure Melissa is up and getting ready to leave for work. Hey, sometimes even the best of us have a hard time waking up. The second is my time to start the wake up process and goes off right around the time Melissa is leaving the house. My second alarm began to ring as Melissa was leaning in to give me a kiss goodbye. We're as adorable as two puppies hugging three puppies. She opened the door and began to say something, but was interrupted by William running into the room with a very big smile on his face. Something else was on his face as well. Dirt?

The first thing to note here is that we were greeted by William who was happy and fine, so perhaps the second thing to note is that we were somehow greeted by William! I shot up out of bed with visions of poop-smeared walls or broken items in the house. The reality was much more terrifying. As I entered the hallway, the first thing I saw was the "safety gate" pushed out of the doorway. Let me be clear, I may not be the guy that the ladies want to see shirtless on the beach, but from hours of practicing drums I do have some arm strength. I do not mess around with locking the safety gates. Period. Freedom, it seems, was enough of a motivator for William to knock it out of place.

I turned to look down the stairs and saw several things had been moved around. I raced down, looking for glass on the floor or permanent marker drawings on the table, and that's when I saw it. The sliding glass door was open. I've never seen William make much of an attempt to figure out unlocking the sliding glass door. He does enjoy going outside, and clearly I need to remember my own advice that kids are perceptive beyond what we might give them credit for. Needless to say, my heart dropped and I got that uncomfortable pit in my stomach. As cautious as we try to be, William spent who knows how long, hanging out in the back yard. It might not seem so scary when I add that our yard is totally fenced in and I keep padlocks on the gates due to some issues with neighborhood kids feeling our back yard is a neat short cut to take after school. Just that idea though, of him being outside alone, the idea of having our comfort zone of control visibly ripped from under us was something I can't put into words.

As the day progressed and I waited for Melissa to get home so we could go find new safety measures for the house, William seemed to push on with his new found feeling of freedom. It was a difficult day to say the least, and I found myself a bit shaken in the task of trying to regain control of the household. It was perhaps similar to the idea of a person on say, an Olympic gymnastics team having a poor performance, setting off a chain of events in which other promising gymnasts also have terrible performances which cost them all hope of a medal. Too soon?

When I looked around online for a better door safety option, I was surprised (perhaps I shouldn't have been) to find that in general the standard purchase for door knob safety, the kind pictured above, is regarded as utterly pointless. One customer noted that her one and a half year old was able to separate them with relative ease. How scary is that? In the end we purchased this:

http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=3812906

While time will tell if it will work, I will say this as a first impression. It seems durable, in the sense of I'm not worried that William will be able to simply pull hard enough on the door and just break it in half to get out. It was extremely easy to attach to the door, taking maybe two minutes. It's a very simple concept of, if he opens the door, it catches on the frame exposing a small crack of space. It also has a finger guard so if he opens the door, it won't close all the way. Eliminating the risk of pinched fingers. For the sliding glass door we purchased some track locks which attach with an allen wrench. Certainly something he won't be able to undo, but a little bit of a hassle as we will need to put them on and take them off every day. It seemed like William would figure out many of the other options. The track locks were cheap and there's just no way to take them off without the wrench. I don't care how many episodes William has seen of "Handy Manny", I don't think he'll figure them out any time soon.

I felt embarrassed that morning. Fortunate, but embarrassed. It's important as a parent to never let your guard down or get too comfortable with the way things are going. Life will smack you right across your mouth and face and chest and headface.


*Answers to questions you might have in your head already. William's door doesn't have a door lock, thus we were unable to turn it around and lock it from the outside. Yes, we will continue to look for other flaws in our safety/child-proofing system. Yes, I will drum for your wedding pending certain factors.

Sharing the Relaxation

When I was a kid I never thought much about what my parents might be going through on vacation. For us kids, the activities that we didn't normally do in Florida was the reason to be on vacation in the first place. Horseback riding, new and exciting theme parks, old historic towns, whatever the distraction was, we wanted to get out there and do stuff in these new places. Until I became a parent, it never dawned on me that there was a pretty high chance that my parents probably wanted to have the occasional day or even moment to just relax and unwind. I hope they found time for that.

I think this idea is really put to the test when you go on vacation with an at-home parent. I have this theory. I think one of the main reasons people go on vacation is to get away from their stressful jobs.  A very valid reason to want a break from the real world. So what then, for the at-home parents? You can't very well take a vacation from your job if your entire company is coming on vacation with you. That's where some real issues can sneak their way into the trip.

I'll use myself as the example, and who knows, maybe I'm the only guilty party in the entire world. Perhaps that makes me seem dangerous and attractive, *wink*.

When we took our big trip to Florida I was very involved with the kids. There was no way to avoid it. In fact the only time it was an issue was at night when we were trying to get the kids to bed after a long day of driving when all they wanted to do was run around. I can't fault them for that, but it is hard to find the will to get up and keep driving when you haven't had enough sleep. Still, overall, our teamwork is what ultimately got us through the trip and allowed us to even have some fun here and there.



The staycation was a different story, and here's where I admit to the world (I assume you've all shared the blog with the entire world) that I was a bit of a selfish jerkface about things. At times. I explained in some part before that the decision to have the staycation was based on the idea that soon I'll be taking on a third child during the day (for a period of time) to help out some friends. In that way I'm a pretty amazing friend. So Melissa had the fantastical idea to take a week off and have some family time before we're just too busy. As our break progressed I would catch myself shutting down and getting a little too comfy. Of course this means that while I'm sitting there with the same level of brain function as any of the Kardashians, Melissa is placed in the position of lone person in charge of the kids. This is a real test for some people, and I wanted to give some perspective on things for people based on mistakes I feel I've made.

---------------------------

First off, teamwork is not always an option on vacation but this doesn't have to be an issue! The key is finding some understanding and balance. Unfortunately, time on vacation that will be both together and alone is hard to come by, so plan ahead for those days. Ladies, we all know you really love a certain amount of spontaneity, but on vacation, with kids, it's not that simple. Find ways to get things done throughout the day so that once the kids are in bed, you can have an actual evening (or several) together. You are not setting a romantic mood if you need to take an hour to worry about washing dishes or picking up toys. In fact, try not to worry about that stuff...you're on vacation.

Second, remember that decompressing on vacation should be a priority. That sounds a bit obvious, but again, as a parent you can back yourself into a corner trying to ensure that there are activities going on at all times to keep the kids busy and happy. Our staycation was one week long, and we only had four things "planned" to do within that time. Even though any given day with our boys is a busy day, when we both pitch in and have nowhere to be, there is time to relax. Everyone has those moments of going back to work after a vacation and you realize, "I need a vacation to recover from my vacation." My advice is to plan some time for absolutely nothing to occur.

Third, when teamwork is not an option, sacrifice for your spouse. Melissa and I have both seen "The Dark Knight Rises" but separately. Sometimes you have to go solo, and let's face it, that can be nice too. We have been lucky enough to get some very trusted friends to watch the boys so we can have the occasional date night. We know the boys are in safe hands but there's always worry in the back of your mind, even if it's just worry that the kids are behaving. So there is an additional feeling of safety knowing the kids are back with mom or dad, and you can be free to enjoy whatever you might have planned. As a side note on this, should you find yourself in the fortunate position of getting a day to go do whatever you might want - plan, plan, plan ahead. Melissa, who is so amazing about letting me take some time for myself (even if I'm just writing for you lovely people), told me to go out in the world and have some fun a few months ago. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I was very excited about it. I woke up around 7am before anyone was up, and snuck out of the house. Clueless of what to do, I proceeded to go grocery shopping, as the very option of freedom was frightening and confusing. I got us all some breakfast and was back at the house before 9 (in fairness to Melissa, she continued to do the bulk of kid stuff that day). I honestly had no idea how to go out and have some fun. I'm a little bit sad. Now is a good time to feel bad for me. Aww...

Last, don't go total space cadet without talking to your spouse. Again that might seem like a common sense move, but as a party guilty of this action, I can attest that it's easy to get into the mind frame of, "I'm on vacation, let someone else handle it." Everyone deserves some time to enjoy a quiet moment on vacation, but not by sneaking into another room and just tuning out the world. Talk to each other and be understanding that while it is very true that you both deserve a break, you both need to work to get there.

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The typical summer break months are winding down, and so this may be too late to be helpful this year. Just remember that vacations are a time for fun, not fighting.

Happy Vacationing Everyone!

Hat Baby

As a guy, when you announce that you're going to be having a baby, the first thing that happens is that you are furiously pushed out of the way so people can find the mom-to-be. Then, once you navigate through all the initial shock questions like, "Oh my god, were you trying to get pregnant?" and, "Who else knows?! AM I THE FIRST?!" you tend to wind up here....

"Do you want a boy or a girl?"

Most people will answer that question the same way. Something about how it doesn't matter, you just pray for a happy, healthy baby. For me that wasn't enough, I needed a happy, healthy baby girl. Not to fulfill some idea of having "daddy's girl" and it wasn't because I think my wife is stunningly beautiful (scoring points right this second) and I know we'd have a gorgeous little girl together. Tobey McGuire tells us that any story worth telling is about a girl, which seems a bit sexist and is coming from a guy who sported a mullet when he was young. Regardless, this story is about a girl. The adorable little girl who holds the honor of being the one who warmed my icy heart to the idea of having kids.

Her name...get this...is Maya. Isn't that sweet? Doesn't that already make you want to vomit out a glazed sugar cube? A beautiful little girl with very curly hair and the type of attitude that pushes you away while forcing you to be drawn right back in. When she was young was being watched during the day by her aunt, an awesome friend of mine who was a stay-at-home mom for a number of years and did an amazing favor for her brother by watching Maya. Even though it couldn't have been a very big deal. She's so cute I assume she was just placed into a flower basket and carted around while she made little giggles and smiled all the time.

So, because I'm an astonishingly good friend, I would stop by on my way home from work to visit with my friend and give her some company that could actually talk back. Visit after visit, Maya started to warm up to me. Till one day, when I was sitting on the floor, Maya carefully walked over to me and place a number of blankets on my lap. I sat in awe while she created a little nest out of them, tucking and folding to make a comfortable spot in the middle. When she was satisfied, and without a word, she stood up and turned her back to me and...PLOP! She went completely boneless and all her weight snuggled right in to her new home on my lap where she resumed watching TV. I can't say everyone would have been so struck by this moment as I was, but I remember just staring at my friend for several seconds thinking, "a little kid likes me!" It was an amazing feeling! I wanted to race home and put a baby in my wife's belly so my own little girl would sit on my lap.

As my visits continued, my bond with this little girl also grew, and I was reminded of a pretty interesting moment with her during lunch yesterday. Maya loved getting read to, and I was more than happy to go through books with her. She really enjoyed the standard cardboard ones with simple pictures and a word. My favorite picture/word combo was "HAT" that was illustrated with one of those really bad hats that you might see at the Kentucky Derby. No offense if that's your style ladies, I just can't pull them off. Chalk it up to jealousy. When I would say "hat" to her, I would say the "a" sound for way too long, and end with a very sharp "t" at the end. She seemed to find it funny, and before too long she was repeating it back to me. I was on top of the world! I taught a child something!

The word "hat" became a greeting of sorts between us, and she identified me with the word because I always wore a hat to work. I was told at one point that "hat" might have been her first word, which was extra cool for my ego as I walked around thinking I had reshaped the planets by teaching a cute little girl one word. Then this happened...

*phone ring*

"Hello?"

"Ev! I have a funny story for you!" <----Maya's Aunt/Awesome Lady

"What's up?"

"Maya was eating dinner and said 'hat' for her parents finally!"

*laughing* "That's awesome! Someday children across the world will know this word because of my actions!"

"Yeah, but that's not the best part..."

"huh?"

"Well, she was eating cereal and to show what a hat was, she took the full bowl, milk and all, and just flipped it upside down while yelling, 'HAAAAT!"

"...well crap."

Maya's parents were not too upset, but they were less than thrilled with the mess involved. For the record, I did not teach her to do that.

Years later when William was finally born, I knew right away that if he was going to succeed in life, he was gonna need to know how to say "hat." I started his training right away and eventually he learned it quite well. Knowledge he shared at lunch today. As I sat with him at the table, while he ate/smeared peanut butter all over his plate, I waited for my queue to bring out the pretzels. Generally when he's done with his sandwich I get a very insistent, "Pretzels please!"

 Not today.

Today all I heard was, "Hat!" I looked over to see bits of sandwich and a plate covered in peanut butter, all placed nicely over William's head. He had an amazing smile on his face, so proud of his knowledge, and he waited very happily for me to praise his genius level brain. I thought back to Maya's story and did my best to explain to a toddler that even though he is both awesome and correct, I really didn't want him to ever do that again...ever. I cleaned him up and sent him off to play. I felt pretty content about it. I never got my girl (sorry grandparents...no more for us) but it's really okay! The boys give me all the love that made me want to have kids in the first place.

And clearly, boy or girl...there's gonna be food on their head.

Haaaaaaaaaat!

Luck Photography

I'm so new to blogging that as I go through other sites, I'm amazed by things they have probably forgotten all about. The format for most blogs is mostly identical, but the look of my page is something I give a lot of thought. I want to come up with a more professional header which features a logo of some kind. An identifying mark that I can feel proud to have people associate me with. I guess you could say I'm trying to work out how to "brand" myself.

With all these changes on my mind, I found a nice string of compliments over the header picture of the boys. I actually picked it for a reason and even with the blur and simple lettering over it, I love this picture. So for all those with the question, "How did you manage to capture them in that almost perfect sort of way?" You'll be happy to know that the answer is dumb luck.

If you're reading this post, there's a pretty big chance you've never read this one which is the first post I ever made of this incarnation of my blog. Don't feel bad about it, this is not a guilt trip. I know a few people (in real life!) who've had personal and even professional success via blogging, and while I don't think I've ever pressured myself to instantly rise to their level, I continue to push out of my comfort zone and share my life with people. The first big step for me was telling people that I was writing, and that's what that first post was for me. Pressure to keep going. The first four times I started this process I never told a soul and that includes Melissa. Deleting everything became like pressing the reset button on my old Nintendo system, no save points allowed. So if sharing the existence of the blog with people was my "step one" then "step two" was the set up of my facebook page, and to me that was all about the profile and cover picture.

The profile picture idea came right away. Knowing that I had no idea for a logo or brand mark, I wanted it to be a picture of me. After all, regardless of the chance that someday I'll have a manufactured logo for people to identify me with, the identity is still me. So it's just me screaming in that "how long till naptime?" frustrated kind of way, and it's something I hoped parents would get a laugh from but also just "get."

The idea for the cover photo took some real thought. What I decided on was a nice, sweet picture of the boys. I liked the idea that they'd look so sweet and innocent and then there would be the mad man flipping out for seemingly no reason at all. That seems to be how most people get to see the boys. This small glance into our world in which two perfect angels are being watched over by the odd, kind of grimy looking guy who is talking to himself a bit too much.

So I took our camera out (yes, the one William has basically ruined) and put it on a tripod hoping to cut some of the built-in blur that has happened ever since William got a hold of it. Then I moved to the "easy" task of getting the boys to sit next to each other on the stairs for just long enough to take the picture. Over and over I failed. Carter would run after me as I would move back to the camera, and then cry when I put him back next to his brother. William was content to sit on the stairs but wanted space from Carter, so he would move down a row...and up...down...whatever it took to get away. I, of course, was being extremely helpful by saying things like, "William! Get back in frame!" or, "Carter, you really need to keep your chin a little higher!"

I'm a pretty legit photographer.

After a couple of minutes, we had all had enough. We dispersed and I popped over to the computer to get a quick look at everything. Honestly, at that point I just wanted something that even remotely resembled a photo of two cute kids. There were lots of Carter in mid-cry, tops of William's head, just the stairs, and the ever present blur from ill-repaired camera. At first glance, I wasn't very happy with any of the resulting photos. It was my urge to get the facebook page set up quickly that kept me in a "pick anything" mentality. So I took a deep breath and looked again, and there it was.

There's just something truthful about this, ya know? William had his face covered because at the time I was making silly noises in an effort to get them to smile a little. In fact, if you look past the golden blur of Carter, you'll see a little bit of a smirk on his face as he looks to his brother for confirmation that it's okay to laugh at daddy. To me, it has just enough insight that they were laughing at me and not with me. They probably knew I was being a bit stupid and rushed about everything, and that's probably not the best attitude to go in with when trying to get two little boys to pose nicely. It speaks to me about parenting, too. There's a great element of joy, but at the same time it's all out of focus. It may not be perfect, but it's real, and that's a pretty cool concept to me. Real and honest, it's how I want this blog to be and two big qualities I want as a parent. So I may be keeping this photo for a while.

Seriously though, I need to do something about replacing the lettering.

Reverse Poopology

Once of my all-time favorite comedy specials was by Dana Carvey entitled "Critics' Choice." In this particular special, he covered a vast array of topics, but I always laughed a lot when he was talking about his kids and "naked time." I know many parents go through that phase with their kids, so I've been patiently waiting for it to happen with the boys. So far the biggest issue we've had with this is that Carter loves to take off his shirts which sounds better than getting an eyeful of bing-bong all day. So far William hasn't shown any signs of wanting to be naked, but that doesn't mean we haven't had other issues with his clothes.

William has refused to nap lately. With all this extra time he has started to figure out the process of getting undressed. It's quite helpful in the right situation, but clearly the right situation is not while he's alone in his room. Unsupervised.Without going into too much detail, I've had a few horrifying moments of opening the door and almost gagging at the sight and smell inside. Finger painting is fun, isn't it folks? Children are beautiful, but they sure can create a lot of ugly.

We spent a long time talking about it and decided that while it was a lot of fun, we just didn't want to clean up the floor, walls, bed, floor, dresser, floor, door, child, and floor anymore. So we ventured into the googlewebs to see what other folks had thought up to prevent this type of nap time activity.

What we found initially was not very surprising. Things like trying to wait for him to go potty before we put him down for his nap or trying zippers versus snaps or vice-versa. Nothing. Then we moved on to duct tape, an option we first thought was a bit mean really. Duct taping the diaper seems to be a little bit of a hot-button topic with certain people. It's seems to fall into that category with those backpacks that have the leash attachment on the back, allowing your child to have a bit of freedom while maintaining control on their general location. Before kids, I would look at those people "walking their kids around like some kind of dog" and scoff at how mean that seemed. While I never did buy one of those contraptions, after we had the boys I can understand the frustration that leads to it, or perhaps the convenience of it. Let me be clear, we never used the duct tape to adhere the diaper to his skin in any way, it was just a strip over the diaper flaps so it would take some real effort to get the diaper off. It was an effort that William was willing to give, so with that failure we went to a full strip of duct tape over the flaps which overlapped in the back. Surely he wouldn't be able to undo that kind of adhesion. Yep, he sure could! Kids are pretty strong willed little buggers.

After further research into ideas, we found a gem of an idea. I really wish I could credit the source, but I don't know where it started. What I do know is that this was not my brilliant idea and the more it is shared, the more parents have a chance to save on carpet cleaning supplies.

So it's simple we take a set of pajamas that look like this:

And turn it into something that looks like this (note the lack of feet):

You take pajamas that have feet (some companies have non-feet versions but they seem pretty hard to find) and trim the foot area fabric off near the ankles. There's generally a seem right in that area to follow. At this point you load you child up into the pajamas backwards so that the zipper (or snaps, though we've not seen snap up pj's in William's size) runs up their back. It's perfect because it really doesn't add any sort of discomfort and there just isn't a way for the child to undo the zipper like that. We have had zero issues since doing it this way, and as William's potty training progresses, so will this idea. From time to time we have put him in normal pajamas and have not had a problem, but it's nice to have what, for us, has been a fail-safe method. Cutting off some fabric has been far less time consuming than cleaning a room that has been "repainted brown."

It's strange what little inventive things you have to do just to make it through the day with your kids without the threat of getting elbow deep into a poop covered floor.

Makes you wonder....

did MacGyver have kids?

Jurassic Children

Like most couples, Melissa and I went through that initial phase where we were just disgusting to watch. Everything was coated in lollipops and unicorns because we were so in love. We often said the same things out loud when responding to questions or we'd tell tandem stories because we knew every inch of the situation as a couple. It's the kind of adorable that settles down over the years, which is not to say we are no longer adorable as a couple, it's just that we shop for matching outfits less.

It's still very common for us to agree on everything from the little things like movies, restaurants, and which body wash we're gonna buy (that's right, we buy the epic sized body wash and share it to save money - adorable and smart) all the way to serious things like politics and religion. It was a very interesting night though, when we discovered we were very much like-minded on the thought that our children share a great deal with our extinct (allegedly) friends, the velociraptor.

Now everything I know about velociraptor, I learned from the movie "Jurassic Park." I have done no further research to see if what they said is factual, and even more so, I have not watched it again to see if I am even remembering things correctly.

That being said, here's what I mean.

1. They hunt in a group: I've said before that William and Carter are finally moving into a phase where they play together. While it really does warm my heart to watch them run around laughing with each other, it also means that destruction to the house is now, also, a group activity. They seek a common goal and use a scary level of teamwork to accomplish their goal. They've become shockingly efficient at it, too. Our family room, which contains most of their toys and is therefore where they spend the most time, can go from clean to disaster in the blink of and eye. If picking up was an equally easy process, I'd admire their level of cooperation. As it is...I do not.

2. It's not the one you see, it's the one you don't see: Because William is the older and more mischievous one, it's easy to get wrapped up in watching to make sure he doesn't get into something he shouldn't. Unfortunately for us, Carter seems to have learned this tendency and uses those moments of parental distraction to set up small but deadly foot traps for us. Anyone who has been a parent long enough to enter the "toys all over the floor" phase of their child's life has probably come face to face with the global epidemic - stepping on Lego pieces. I don't want the Lego company to go out of business, but something must be done about how much pain they inflict to the foot when accidentally stepping on one. Anyway, Carter has learned that it's easy to slip quietly around the room while William is running around like a madman, keeping our attention. So a wood block right in front of the chair, a pointy matchbox car by the stairs, a string of Legos by the doorway, or simply the entire contents of our junk drawer by the sink, are all things that mysteriously seem to happen while we're distracted with William. Clever girl, err boy.

3. Give them their "egg" and they'll let you live: I can't remember which sequel it was, but there was a situation where the group of scientists stole a raptor egg which of course sent the pack into a murderous rage. When they were finally cornered with no hope of escape, they simply gave back the egg and were left alone and unharmed. Just that easy. This applies to the boys throughout the day. Sometimes you need to let them bring a really big chewed-up book to the store or let them take a wooden mixing spoon to bed in order to get anything done. Sometimes to win, you must let your opponent...win.

4. Beware the sharp claws: Evidently, the fingernails and toenails of children grow at a rapid rate. For a long time with William, I would trim or file them almost every day because of some little sharp spot that would only make it's presence known by drawing blood on Melissa or I. Granted, that is much better than a raptor claw to the stomach, but still painful.

5.  Even when logic tells you otherwise, they'll be able to open doors: We've "child-proofed" the majority of the house, but for certain doors or drawers we haven't found it necessary enough to spend the extra money on more supplies. This includes the bathroom doors. So sometimes if I am not sure to lock the door, I get a little audience while I "send a fax to the waste management department." Thankfully I've started to use these moments as encouragement for William to get on the potty train. "If dad can poo, so can you!"

Keep an eye on your kids folks, you never know what they might be up to!

Back to Reality.

Someone recently told me that I don't "look like the camping type" and I'm not sure if that was a fat joke or if it was just a nod to my designer socks from Hanes. I actually love camping, but it was a different story when I was little because being in the woods in the pitch black is also fairly terrifying. I've progressed beyond that, mostly. I was also told a story when I was young about the son of my dad's co-worker who went camping and slept under a tree. That night a storm passed through and lightening struck the tree. The electrical current traveled through the roots and ended up passing right through the guy as he was sleeping, he later died. I recall at least one very specific camping trip afterwards where it began to rain and I demanded to sleep in our minivan. I also pleaded with my mom for her to sleep in there as well. I know she was quite fed up with me because it was the middle of the night and she was trying to sleep, but I was trying to keep her alive and I feel that's a good reason to wake someone up. Sorry mom!

Since moving to Idaho we, or more specifically I, have made time to camp a few times every year. We have some camping gear that is for the whole family. We have a larger tent and ways to cook and be comfortable outside. I also have some solo gear for those times when I'm alone. I have a dual sport motorcycle and wanted a way to camp off of the bike. Everything is small and light, but far less comfortable. With either set up I always have fun and besides, camping isn't really about comfort.

Then last weekend happened...

Every so often my friends and I will do a guys only camping trip. It's not one of those things where we are trying to rough it more than usual (which doesn't happen) or finally be in a place where it's acceptable to fart whenever you want (which does). As cheesy as it sounds, it's about connecting with the guys. It's about staying up late talking about everything without restrictions. Good old male bonding.

What made this most recent trip so different was for the first time ever, I slept in a camping trailer. It. Was. Amazing! It was a pop-up trailer with two queen sized beds, a stove, oven, sink, shower, and dining area. To eat at a table instead of trying to balance everything on my knees was amazing. To wake up in the morning without that familiar back pain from sleeping on the hard ground, because I spent my night on a soft mattress was unbelievable.

The ritual for most everyone on Sunday morning (leaving day) is to wake up early and begin the painful task of packing everything up for the drive home. There's normally a chill in the air and everyone is moving a little slow from lack of sleep or too much alcohol the night before. Everyone struggles to get things to fit in just the right way to be loaded up and more than one person is sure to have an item go missing. On the other side of camp, the pop-up trailer was clear, broken down and ready for travel before most people had finished their first cup of coffee. It was just that easy. I started to get this overwhelming feeling of sadness. Why? I knew the next time I would go camping, it would be back to my normal routine. Back to reality. On the next trip I'll spend my night tossing and turning, wondering what's outside my flimsy bit of cloth. I'll fight for space to put my bag or shoes or just myself, and from this day forward I'll remember that one beautiful night in the trailer where there was so much room on the bed it was almost lonely.

I'll admit, that kind of "camping" might upset some purists who feel that going into the wild with a small apartment defeats the purpose. They might be right, but damn, seeing how everyone looked and clearly felt the next morning, I feel okay about it.

On my way home I got to thinking about the camper (and how much I want one now) and realized that it's a good lesson to think about with the boys. I often post, and will continue to post, about the situations that cause me some headache, but really I love my boys and they are fantastic most of the time. In the moment though, it's hard to remember that they've been great all morning when they're both screaming as loud as they can for seemingly no reason after lunch. It's hard to remember the string of amazing days when you're in the middle of a really bad one. So from now on I'm gonna try to remember that night in the camper because no matter if the situation is really good or really bad, you're most likely gonna wake up that next morning and be thrown right back into a big steaming pile of normal, and that's really not such a bad thing.

Christmas Magic!

I know what you're thinking...

A Christmas story? In July? Little cliché isn't it, Ev?

Well I've got news for you: 1. Deal with it. 2. It's not what you think.

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Melissa loves Christmas. A lot. It's adorable really, but even now with the 100+ degree heat giving me a clear sign that Christmas is nowhere to be seen, I find myself exhausted just thinking about how excited she is going to be starting the day after Thanksgiving. I like Christmas enough, I'm no Scrooge, but I can't keep up with her. Still, I've seen my share of "Christmas miracles" and this is the story of one of my all time favorites.

My dad and I formed a Christmas tradition for several years before we all left Florida. It was a pretty sweet tradition in which I would use my spiderman skills to get up on the roof to hang the Christmas lights and he would untangle the lights and yell at me if I was deviating from the correct light-hanging procedures. Seriously though, it worked out well because he was old enough to admit that he had no business running around on the roof of his house, and I was young enough to admit that running around a roof with a staple gun was pretty much awesome.

Melissa and I had our first Christmas as a couple in 2001, which was also her first time getting to enjoy the father and son light-hanging extravaganza. Things between Melissa and my dad were pretty tense early on, but it felt like there was hope for things to settle down.

Melissa, who made it very clear that she had no interest getting on the roof, set up a chair in the driveway so she could gaze at all my glorious splendor and get all giddy about the Christmas season. As my dad and I started to go through our normal routine of "discussion" on which direction the plugs should face and where the proper place was to "hide" the mountain of extension cord excess, Melissa simply sat sipping soda (thanks high school level alliteration skills).

Before long, I was up on the roof going through the fairly memorized routine and my dad, who had finished getting those last stubborn knots out of the lights, had taken a seat by Melissa to watch me and make sure I didn't mess anything up.

It's important to note that my dad had those icicle lights, the ones that hang down a little from the roof. Well, after a year in storage the lights had a tendency to not hang straight down and they also seemed to have grown into each other like some sort of electrical breed of ivy. So in addition to the hanging, I was also in charge of making sure the strands were clear of each other so that in time, gravity would do it's job and we'd have that great icy look at the top of his house. In Florida. A state known for it's rich history of icicles.

So as I'm inching my way across the roof, I get the familiar, "Hey" from my dad which was always followed by something I needed to fix. I was directed to two "icicles" that were wrapped up and I leaned off the side of the roof to fix it. As I got up to resume my fun-with-staple-guns session, Melissa chimed in with another set that needed straightened out. Then my dad spotted another error. Then Melissa. Till I was the human tennis ball in a match of "yell stuff at the guy on the roof!"

Let me be clear, I'm not upset by what transpired and this isn't one of my stories to get some pity (but if you want to...that's okay). What I saw when I looked down from the roof was, to me, the first real bonding my dad was having with the girl I knew I was going to marry someday. All the tension was giving way to laughter, and it was all because of me. I am some kind of amazing person. I think they have a good relationship now and I hope they feel that way as well, but for me that night was the start of it all. I guess sometimes to really win over a person, you just need to be willing to make fun of their son.


How'd you win over your in-laws?

A Person More Talented Than Me!

If you're like me, you probably read that title and started thinking of a very long list of people. Don't feel too bad for me; earlier this week I had someone tell me that my cakes are the BEST (they used all caps). I do things.

While you and your friends do a march madness style bracket of people I could possibly be referring to, I'm gonna move on.

I'm not sure how much insight into my personal character you are able to grasp as a reader. Obviously at this point I want people to enjoy my writing. I hope over time that more people will feel inclined to come back on a regular basis and tell their friends, but at the moment it's hard to tell where things are going and where I fit into the lives of what often feels like a very short list of people who stumble into my little world here. Am I just the handsome comedian to people? The super intelligent handsome humorist? Perhaps you think I'm a total jerk, who is handsome. Do I let the light shine on your heart the way Linus vows the Great Pumpkin will pave the way for the magical spirit of Halloween? I may never know, but I'll let you all in on a little secret.

I like nerdy, geeky stuff.

That's why I love James Hance.

Now before I go further I want to be clear that the following are my own opinions and while the timing of my post is certainly not a coincidence, I am getting nothing to plead with you to go spend lots and lots of money on his amazing work.

So enough delay, go right here.

The title at the top says it all for me. "Relentlessly Cheerful Art." Not just cheerful art, relentlessly cheerful art! Art so cheerful that it refuses to not cheerful at you. That alone is so awesome that you might forget that there's so much more to his site.

The perfect place to start is on his prints page where the magic of his mind becomes almost overwhelming. Look, I have my little nerd loves, so when I find a guy who takes things two things I enjoy in an obsessive kind of way like the movie "Shawn of the Dead" and the Muppets I am a pretty happy camper. I could sit here and link picture after picture, but seriously, just go look! There is something you'll love, and better yet, there's something you can share with your kids. For only 10 bucks you get an amazing, high-quality print, and look at the sizes! How am I so sure of the quality? We've purchased two prints and a very awesome shirt (which are also extremely well made and at $25 is certainly affordable). There's also kids size clothing, stickers, ipod and iphone cases, and hoodies. Don't you just want to hold hands with someone and hop around in a state of gleeful euphoria?!

Now the reason I have chosen to post about this fantastic dreamaginationer at this specific point in time is his latest book, which I'm so giddy for that every so often Melissa has to put me on my back and rub my belly to calm me down like a shark. Now Mr. Hance has already put out one book which I have sadly not purchased as of yet, but believe me, I plan on it. Both prints we own are from the "Wookie the Chew" series, and William loves them. I don't need to have a copy of his previous writing in my hand to know that a mash-up of "Winnie the Pooh" which is one of William's favorite things in the world, and "Star Wars" which I love, is going to be an instant hit in this household. That's exactly why I'm so very excited for his new book. "Goodnight, Pond" is a brilliant idea which again, seems taken from a list of most favorite things ever for William and myself. It combines "Goodnight, Moon" which I'm sure like many of you, I have read so many times that I not only know the words from memory, but I can point to every object in the room without so much as a glance, AND DOCTOR WHO!!! Seriously, my biggest dilemma with this book is how many to buy, because if it follows the lifespan of the other three "Goodnight, Moon" books that we have bought for William...this book will be eaten. Probably need a backup. Or 7.

Now, if you have lasted this long without just throwing in the towel to the idea that "Ev has a man-crush on this guy" I'd like to bring up one last thing - he's a dad. Better yet, he's a dad doing everything he can to take care of his little girl. Her story and information on how you can get involved can be found here. I've said it before, and it might always be true, within the blogging world I am no one. If you don't want to believe me that minivans are a great purchase for your family, then okay. However, James Hance is a person far more talented than me, and I'm certainly moved by his abilities and by the story of his daughter; I think you will be too.

So I urge you to go and find joy in his artwork, and if you can help with funds to his little girl then do! Having his artwork in the house for months now I can certainly attest to the fact that it will always be boldly in your face, unapologetically turning the corners of your mouth upward. You will find yourself relentlessly cheered.

Go! Tell him I sent you! He'll say, "Who?" That's just this thing we do...

I miss you, stuff.

I've talked about this a little bit before, but Melissa and I (like most people I know of) went through a phase where money wasn't something we really paid too much attention. I was never willing to say, buy the brand name ice cream while the store brand was 30 cents cheaper...but you get the idea. When people asked if we wanted to go out to dinner, we did (pending the people asking) and with little thought for stupid things like...we ate out yesterday or...we're eating out tomorrow or...I think we've eaten out every day this week. Our birthday/anniversary/Christmas/Valentine gifts to each other were always spendy and that special kind of selfish that you deserve on a holiday. One of our most crowning achievements is our DVD collection. If you are not aware, DVDs come out on Tuesdays. So our ritual on Tuesdays was to go to work, come home and change, head to Best Buy and purchase 1-3 DVDs, have dinner somewhere in the area, go home and watch new movies. Every Tuesday. It got pretty epic...I'll throw a picture up here.

Now, this is not a sob story about how I wish we had more money so we could do more things and buy more of those "want not need" items. Kids or no kids, I think we'd all agree that we'd love more money around. This is far more simple than even wanting to go buy the occasional DVD.

I WANT ACCESS TO THE STUFF I ALREADY OWN!

Another great bit of information that you really don't read about in those books that get you ready for parenting is how quickly your children are willing to destroy everything you own. It's probably not malicious, but as the parent or more importantly as the person who spent all the money on all that stuff, you really have to start making some tough choices.

Now obviously I've brought this concern up with other parents and they seem to tell a similar story. Child locks on everything, secret stashes of everything from jewelry to candy bars, and my personal favorite...everything moved up to the higher shelves. I had two pictures go through my mind when talking about this stuff.

There's a very common selling technique used in grocery stores. You put the items that are popular or bring in the most money, at eye level. It's interesting that you have to employ a similar, though perhaps more extreme technique with young kids. In our house we've gone to great lengths to protect what we would like to keep in the long term. That includes a certain amount of controlled destruction. Giving up old cell phones to save the new ones, allowing the older books to get the bends, rips, and teeth marks to save those precious hard-bound books or ones we'd like to read again at some point. It's all about directing the eyes of your children to the place you want them to go and away from the places you want them to avoid.

I also thought a great deal about hotels, and it really goes further than that, but one step at a time. Thinking about it, I've stayed at a pretty large number of hotels/cabins/condos. I guess I've done my fair share of traveling. The common factor in every place I've ever been is how bare they all are. Now there's obvious reasons for this like the cost associated with decorating each room. Clearly as the owner you would want to make each room as cheap to furnish/decorate as possible while still giving a patron an enjoyable experience. In short, it's nice that we get free soap, but it's also understandable that every room doesn't have a private study. I can also see the benefit in keeping things a little underdone to limit the number of things you set out for people to steal. I don't have big enough luggage to steal more than soap and toilet paper.

However...

Someone, at sometime, had to have brought up that keeping the decor of hotel rooms on that fine line between empty and boring, was a great way to limit the dollar amount of possible destruction by toddlers and rock musicians. We stopped at many different hotels on our recent trip to Florida, and I can say that the two things in any real danger of getting toddlered were the tissues in the bathrooms and the "Guest Manuals" on the dressers. That's pretty darn good! It carries over to other areas as well! Look at homes that are featured in magazines. They don't have anything in them! I think that's what people find attractive. The homes of people who have kids are filled with 15 overflowing toy boxes and baskets to "organize" where things go at the end of the day. The pictures we are shown as examples of a "stylish" or "beautiful" home are pictures where rooms are devoid of anything that would indicate that a person actually lives there. I feel fancy if I get all the toys picked up at the end of the night. I was unaware that what we really need is a large room containing only two expensive chairs and a sconce. Sorry parents, we have too much stuff in our homes for them to be considered elegant, and none of it belongs to us.

I have to wonder if there's really a way to balance the child-proofing that goes on in a home, and making any attempt to have an elegant home. Maybe I'm just hanging with the crowd that, like me, offers one or two rooms up to the lords of mess in order to have a kitchen table that can actually be used for eating.

Moral of the story:

From my own experience, and listening to stories from other parents, there comes a day when you have two choices when it comes to your stuff.

Hide it or watch it get destroyed.

P.S. In order to take the picture I had to get a chair from the table and use it to reach the camera bag on top of the fridge. It did at one point take pretty decent pictures. William took it mostly apart a few months ago so now it lives up there with the bread. So in addition to Porsche, I am willing to be sponsored by a camera company.

People love signing things!

Go here!


Right from the site:

The Census Bureau states, "Deciding which child care arrangement to use has become an increasingly important family issue as maternal employment has become the norm, rather than the exception." However, the Census contradicts itself by assuming in the SIPP (Survey of Income and Program Participation) that moms are the designated parent and dads are a childcare arrangement.
If this is the norm, and decisions about child care arrangements are increasingly important, then it is increasingly important to accurately portray such arrangements. To equate father-provided care with grandparent, or sibling provided care, as something functionally different from mother-provided care, does not accurately portray the arrangement, or the social, economic, and policy consequences of it.
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In short, according to their policy, I am not a stay at home Dad to my kids. I'm currently employed (without pay) as a full time babysitter to two children (doesn't matter that they are my own).

This will be going to the House and Senate in addition to the Census Bureau. Real quick and easy. Take a minute if you can.



Thanks folks.

A Brave New World

For those who have not been bombarded on the various Disney channels by the constant reminders, Disney/Pixar's - "Brave" arrives in theaters tomorrow. As someone who celebrates my Scottish heritage with great pride, I need little other reason to see this movie than the promise of delightful accents woven into a movie that will undoubted have a scene that jokes about what males wear under their kilts.

Because I am "no one" in the blogging world, I get to be part of an elite group of parental bloggers who have not already been to see this movie. However, as I am an increasingly avid reader of a variety of these other blogs, I've certainly seen a great deal of little snippets in regard to the movie's content.

Now I have no intention of trying to sell people on a movie that I have not seen. Even the things I've read about it doesn't get me very far because people take different aspects of the movie home with them. It just depends on what really stands out to them personally as they watch it. Heck, if I tried to pull off a review based on my reading, I'd end up with a write-up about the story of a bow and some arrows that a mother and daughter talk to using extremely random Celtic words that seem to summon bears. I'm 64% sure that's not the plot of "Brave" (in theaters tomorrow).

So what do I have to say about this movie besides the likelihood of wearing a kilt to the theater when/if I get the chance to go? Well, it has to do with another Pixar movie, and my deepest hope that I can spark some level of conversation in the comments section.

William, who is several months into the 3 year old territory, loves Disney/Pixar movies. His other interests seem to generally be running and screaming. That's where my issue comes into play. Something Melissa and I have really had to learn as parents is that we're not alone in our fear that every time we're out with the kids, they are bothering everyone. The truth is, when we feel that William is "acting up" in a restaurant, there's probably a parent somewhere close by remarking at how he is so well behaved. We're both getting better about understanding that a great deal of people around us when we're out [INSERT LAME ACTIVITY THAT SUDDENLY BECOMES COOL WHEN YOU HAVE KIDS] know how it works, and they really don't care about a little noise.

However, a movie theater is a different situation and that brings me to the basis of my question. I know William will love "Brave" enough that if we were to buy it for him, it would be yet another movie he asks to watch by name. He will learn who the characters are, and he will learn where to laugh, scream, or be sad. He will enjoy it over...and over. Also, it has been announced that in September they will be releasing "Finding Nemo" in 3D, which is a huge favorite for him. My point is, there are great chances this year to take him to his first ever in theater experience, but it scares the crap out of me.

So, after this fantastically long-winded ramble, my question is: When did you guys first take your kids to the movies? Or if you're like us with kids in that younger age bracket, what are you waiting for that would you feel comfortable making an attempt?

Specifically for "Finding Nemo" I'm well aware that William will gladly watch it at any time. He's probably dreaming the entire movie as I'm sitting here writing this! I suppose it's obvious that my concerns are that we'll get a little bit into the movie and he just won't be able to watch it without the freedom to run around this crazy new place that has the biggest Nemo ever. I'm super excited to be able to do this stuff with my boys at some point, but I wonder when it's gonna be "right."