The presence of fleas in the house makes my scalp itch. I don't have any, but it's psychosomatic. The same thing happens whenever I hear about lice. I had the little demons once and never noticed it. Once someone pointed it out and I got treatment, the itching started. I know what's happening (and why), but it happens nonetheless.
I cut my hair short.
Real short.
It's feels funny with the hair sticking up. I can see my scalp, too! It'll help spot fleas if I ever were to get one, and it will help deal with the heat.
Shane got a haircut, too. Carrie was worried that something might find it's way on to him, and (most importantly) he happened to wander into a bathroom where I had the clippers plugged in and ready to go. I let the boy look at the clippers, feel the vibration, and I hoped they would seem less fantastic. Shane has a tendency to grab at the clippers whenever he gets a haircut, and I wanted to let him handle them so maybe he would stop. Then, I took off the first chunk of hair.
My son was not happy.
Shane has never been a big fan of haircuts, but they've never been a source of tears before. This time, I made a few passes before he was spitting mad. I put on Remy (from Ratatouille) and enlisted my wife to try and soothe his nerves.
That was a negative, Ghost Rider.
Shane got more pissed, but because we were already half-way done, Carrie and I tried to plow through. After all, Shane has a small head compared to ours! Ten more swipes and we're done, right?
Wrrrrr......wait for it....WRONG!
There were tears and frustration galore. Shane was swiping his hands and got hair on them. Somewhere along the way, he shoved his hands in his mouth and got hair in there too. Between the crying, the hair, and the sputtering rage.....this is what happened.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Food Network Star
Carrie and I watch Food Network Star every Sunday. No, I have no skill at cooking. Every time I offer to try and learn to cook something, my wife tells me to "go back in the other room and relax." Carrie enjoys "having the edge on me" and keeping me helpless outside of bagels and peanut butter.
Back to the show, Carrie enjoys the cooking, and I enjoy the personal stories. Usually I pick a person or two, whom I like their attitudes and style. That said, one of the things I enjoy the most is how positive the feedback from the judges is. I feel like most reality TV series try to create drama and make fun of contestants. The Food Network is consistent in treating everyone like they may win, or at least come in contact with the network again. Don't get me wrong, if there's a problem they point it out. They don't browbeat or try to make it into a huge issue, though. The judges make their point, give constructive criticism, and the show goes on. I wish every manager/boss/chief in real life followed their example. Some of the contestants who aren't finalists have 'won' simply by being on the show and having food celebrities honestly critique their food.
I find it to be entertaining, positive human drama. I've absorbed some cooking knowledge from the show even if I have no ability to put any of it to practical use. Plus, the show counts as quality time with my wife and I talk to MomMom about the results each week, as well.
Keep it up, Food Network. I'm an extremely, unlikely fan.
But a fan nonetheless.
Back to the show, Carrie enjoys the cooking, and I enjoy the personal stories. Usually I pick a person or two, whom I like their attitudes and style. That said, one of the things I enjoy the most is how positive the feedback from the judges is. I feel like most reality TV series try to create drama and make fun of contestants. The Food Network is consistent in treating everyone like they may win, or at least come in contact with the network again. Don't get me wrong, if there's a problem they point it out. They don't browbeat or try to make it into a huge issue, though. The judges make their point, give constructive criticism, and the show goes on. I wish every manager/boss/chief in real life followed their example. Some of the contestants who aren't finalists have 'won' simply by being on the show and having food celebrities honestly critique their food.
I find it to be entertaining, positive human drama. I've absorbed some cooking knowledge from the show even if I have no ability to put any of it to practical use. Plus, the show counts as quality time with my wife and I talk to MomMom about the results each week, as well.
Keep it up, Food Network. I'm an extremely, unlikely fan.
But a fan nonetheless.
Hilarious
Maybe I'll do something like this with Shane. I'll make him interview himself every five years!
http://www.cnn.com/video/?hpt=hp_c2#/video/us/2012/07/09/vo-man-interviews-12-yr-old-self.jeremiahmcdonald-com
The video is a 32-year old man talking with a video of his 12-year old self. Unfortunately, I can't embed it since it's not on YouTube (or at least I found it on CNN and I'm too lazy to see if it's on YouTube or not).
http://www.cnn.com/video/?hpt=hp_c2#/video/us/2012/07/09/vo-man-interviews-12-yr-old-self.jeremiahmcdonald-com
The video is a 32-year old man talking with a video of his 12-year old self. Unfortunately, I can't embed it since it's not on YouTube (or at least I found it on CNN and I'm too lazy to see if it's on YouTube or not).
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Surprise Part Two: Fleas!
Our new puppy came packing new houseguests! My wife was shocked.
Carrie's never been a dog-owner, but I've done this song and dance before. Carrie treated the dog with Frontline, and half a day later I gave him his first flea bath. It's going to be wash-rinse-repeat until it's time for the next Frontline treatment in a month. From there it should be clean sailing until winter. Nothing kills fleas better than a nice freeze, IMO. I'll never forget how horrified Carrie was when she brushed the puppy and saw a flea hit the kitchen floor. Then she saw there was more than one! I popped them all for good measure.
With our first dog in Texas, the fleas got so bad I had them as a kid for a little bit. My parents had to flea bomb the house and the little bloodsuckers kept coming back! We moved to where there was winter, threw the dog out in the snow, and POOF no more flea re-occurrences. That was before Frontline, though. This stuff seems to work really well, so there's a good chance it's game-over for the wee nuisances already. If it doesn't work, we just have to hold out until winter (assuming winter is an actual winter and not just a late fall with all of the 100+ degree weather).
It was after this discovery, my wife asked if she'd jumped into dog ownership too quickly.
I disagreed.
To begin with, my wife does not like dogs. She picked out Indiana for my parents, but she's always been uncomfortable around her. Indiana is high energy and weighs less than Shane. She's harmless, but she can jump in excitement. This bothers Carrie. My wife used to work at an animal hospital. She's wrestled much larger dogs than Indiana, but wrangling scared and aggressive dogs has left it's mark. I've always figured I would have to find an angle to work if I ever wanted a Fido.
When we bought the new house, I started teasing my dog-fearing wife that "We can own a dog! We have a yard now!" It was not appreciated (but then again, that helped make it funny for me....I'm bad).
A little over a week ago, we talked about how much Shane loved Indiana and how I thought dogs were a great companion for little boys. I then said "We aren't ready for a dog, period. Puppies are a lot of work. Shane needs to be older. Maybe some time after your boss retires, and if you're a stay-at-home mom. Two to three years?"
Carrie, no longer worried I would be bringing a dog home or forcing the issue for years, started to do research on what type of dog she'd be okay with. She did a ton of research on her own. Several days later, we talked and looked up a breed or two together. One of the breeds was the Burmese Mountain Dog. I believe Carrie then mentioned something about "maybe getting a retriever, because they're good with kids."
Saturday was the perfect storm. Shane and I were out of the house. Carrie ended up working from home. The mysterious call for Carrie to show a horse from someone Carrie had never heard of came. Carrie showed the horse. The puppy was at the barn being manhandled by a two-year old. The puppy is big enough and old enough that Shane couldn't kill him.
The rest is history.
My mom is ECSTATIC, btw. I told her I wanted a dog at some point, but the plan was years from now! Nana had this quote for me, "God laughs at the plans of men." Ain't it true? I think this is one of those situations where everything happens so perfectly, you would have to be a stubborn fool to fight against the flow of events.
I wanted a dog one day. I got him yesterday. I decided to be happy about it.
And I am.
Carrie's never been a dog-owner, but I've done this song and dance before. Carrie treated the dog with Frontline, and half a day later I gave him his first flea bath. It's going to be wash-rinse-repeat until it's time for the next Frontline treatment in a month. From there it should be clean sailing until winter. Nothing kills fleas better than a nice freeze, IMO. I'll never forget how horrified Carrie was when she brushed the puppy and saw a flea hit the kitchen floor. Then she saw there was more than one! I popped them all for good measure.
With our first dog in Texas, the fleas got so bad I had them as a kid for a little bit. My parents had to flea bomb the house and the little bloodsuckers kept coming back! We moved to where there was winter, threw the dog out in the snow, and POOF no more flea re-occurrences. That was before Frontline, though. This stuff seems to work really well, so there's a good chance it's game-over for the wee nuisances already. If it doesn't work, we just have to hold out until winter (assuming winter is an actual winter and not just a late fall with all of the 100+ degree weather).
It was after this discovery, my wife asked if she'd jumped into dog ownership too quickly.
I disagreed.
To begin with, my wife does not like dogs. She picked out Indiana for my parents, but she's always been uncomfortable around her. Indiana is high energy and weighs less than Shane. She's harmless, but she can jump in excitement. This bothers Carrie. My wife used to work at an animal hospital. She's wrestled much larger dogs than Indiana, but wrangling scared and aggressive dogs has left it's mark. I've always figured I would have to find an angle to work if I ever wanted a Fido.
When we bought the new house, I started teasing my dog-fearing wife that "We can own a dog! We have a yard now!" It was not appreciated (but then again, that helped make it funny for me....I'm bad).
A little over a week ago, we talked about how much Shane loved Indiana and how I thought dogs were a great companion for little boys. I then said "We aren't ready for a dog, period. Puppies are a lot of work. Shane needs to be older. Maybe some time after your boss retires, and if you're a stay-at-home mom. Two to three years?"
Carrie, no longer worried I would be bringing a dog home or forcing the issue for years, started to do research on what type of dog she'd be okay with. She did a ton of research on her own. Several days later, we talked and looked up a breed or two together. One of the breeds was the Burmese Mountain Dog. I believe Carrie then mentioned something about "maybe getting a retriever, because they're good with kids."
Saturday was the perfect storm. Shane and I were out of the house. Carrie ended up working from home. The mysterious call for Carrie to show a horse from someone Carrie had never heard of came. Carrie showed the horse. The puppy was at the barn being manhandled by a two-year old. The puppy is big enough and old enough that Shane couldn't kill him.
The rest is history.
My mom is ECSTATIC, btw. I told her I wanted a dog at some point, but the plan was years from now! Nana had this quote for me, "God laughs at the plans of men." Ain't it true? I think this is one of those situations where everything happens so perfectly, you would have to be a stubborn fool to fight against the flow of events.
I wanted a dog one day. I got him yesterday. I decided to be happy about it.
And I am.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Surprise!
My wife's done it again.
Today started off as a Saturday. A day of rest, right? It ended up being over 100 degrees and I mowed the back lawn and then drove an hour to help a friend move into a third floor apartment with no elevator and many, many stairs. In my rush to make the schedule work, I did not drink the appropriate amount of morning caffeine to sustain my addiction. The constant sweating probably accelerated the withdrawal symptoms.
On my way back from helping my friend move, I was exhausted and tried calling Carrie to see if she could pick up Shane from my parents (who so graciously watched him so that I could help my friend move). I called multiple times (because I was that thoroughly soaked in sweat), but Carrie didn't pick up her phone. I couldn't risk Shane overstaying his welcome, so I scooted over to get him from my parents. He threw a fit when he saw me, as usual (keep this in mind...it may be important later). My head started to throb from exhaustion, caffeine, or some unholy combination of the two when I finally heard from Carrie.
To make a long story short, someone had a sudden need for a talented trainer to show off horse for a sale and they called my wife. It was a two-hour drive away, but she jumped at the chance. Our phone conversation was "I can't talk, I have to ride a horse to sell. Love you! Bye!" I was dying for a break, but it sounded like a good opportunity for Carrie. I didn't mention I felt like crap, brought Shane home, and watched him in a half-daze until 6:30 PM.
That was my state of health and sanity when Carrie first arrived. I was eager to pawn the boy off, so that I could change out of my still damp with sweat clothes (truly) and shower. Instead, she wanted me to bring the boy outside so she could show him a surprise. I like to think God built me with a lot of patience/endurance so I groaned and went with the flow. I spotted a yard tool I'd left out this morning and it was vexing me anyway. While Carrie was putting on Shane's shoes, I picked up the tool and went to put it in the garage.
Surprise! A dog was in my backyard.
Today started off as a Saturday. A day of rest, right? It ended up being over 100 degrees and I mowed the back lawn and then drove an hour to help a friend move into a third floor apartment with no elevator and many, many stairs. In my rush to make the schedule work, I did not drink the appropriate amount of morning caffeine to sustain my addiction. The constant sweating probably accelerated the withdrawal symptoms.
On my way back from helping my friend move, I was exhausted and tried calling Carrie to see if she could pick up Shane from my parents (who so graciously watched him so that I could help my friend move). I called multiple times (because I was that thoroughly soaked in sweat), but Carrie didn't pick up her phone. I couldn't risk Shane overstaying his welcome, so I scooted over to get him from my parents. He threw a fit when he saw me, as usual (keep this in mind...it may be important later). My head started to throb from exhaustion, caffeine, or some unholy combination of the two when I finally heard from Carrie.
To make a long story short, someone had a sudden need for a talented trainer to show off horse for a sale and they called my wife. It was a two-hour drive away, but she jumped at the chance. Our phone conversation was "I can't talk, I have to ride a horse to sell. Love you! Bye!" I was dying for a break, but it sounded like a good opportunity for Carrie. I didn't mention I felt like crap, brought Shane home, and watched him in a half-daze until 6:30 PM.
That was my state of health and sanity when Carrie first arrived. I was eager to pawn the boy off, so that I could change out of my still damp with sweat clothes (truly) and shower. Instead, she wanted me to bring the boy outside so she could show him a surprise. I like to think God built me with a lot of patience/endurance so I groaned and went with the flow. I spotted a yard tool I'd left out this morning and it was vexing me anyway. While Carrie was putting on Shane's shoes, I picked up the tool and went to put it in the garage.
Surprise! A dog was in my backyard.
The puppy is a Golden Retriever mother crossed with a Burmese Mountain Dog father. He's four-months old. Shane loves him. The dog is extremely docile. He lets Shane sit on him and try to ride him like a horse. Shane is not docile when Dada worries about the boy squishing the puppy and forces him to not ride said dog like a horse.
The story goes while at the barn Carrie saw this little guy being extremely docile amidst a two-year old manhandling him playfully. The owner of the horse offered Carrie close to a 60% discount since she helped secure a sale, and BAM! Instant dog-ownership. I'm amazed my wife had a checkbook on her. Carrie had been researching dogs early in the week and we'd both looked up Burmese Mountain Dogs. We read some facts Carrie was a fan of. All these happy coincidences coincided and my wife said something like "Who am I to overlook all these hints. It was meant to be!"
Apparently, Carrie didn't remember how the first episode of surprise pet worked out. Dogs are way better than cats, and this is a nice one. I did want a dog at some point, but I told Carrie it would be years down the road. I wanted an older boy, and her to not be working to be able to give the dog proper care. I'm still not sure how annoyed I should or should not be about this situation.
I'll figure it out tomorrow....along with an official name for the fella. It's looking like Flynn.
Friday, July 6, 2012
A Shane Post (since I don't do enough of those)
I got to feel like a good father this morning. Shane and I played, played and played some more. He loves running around the basement. I have a video of him running himself dizzy I should probably post.
Thursday, Carrie was gone from 7:30 AM to 11:00 PM last night on business. To help pass some of the time, Shane and I visited Nana's house. I admit, sometimes I am jealous of Nana's power over my son. He loves her. My mom is the most natural baby person I've ever met. Where I get tired of playing the same game over and over, she seems to get energized by the presence of a baby.
And Shane reacts to her. I've seen the tears and fits to prove it when I try to take him out of her arms. Shane will laugh and play for me, but if Nana's around he wants her to hold him and Dada to go take a break elsewhere.
While Carrie was out, I decided to spoil Shane and take him to the pool. You would think this would make me #1 Dada. However, I had to drop by my parents house first to pick up my cellphone (plus, they had the pool passes and I wanted to get in for free). Shane saw Nana. When I packed him up to go to the pool with my Dad and the foster kids, he went ballistics. There were tears galore. Shane did not want to leave Nana with the evil Dada.
He cried the whole way to the pool.
Thankfully, it was only a 3 minute commute. I got to be Super-Dada for running around in the baby pool with him for an hour. There was one time early on where Shane fell and I didn't react fast enough, but he learned to really like the water. I want to do it again, so he doesn't only equate leaving Nana's house as me tearing him away from Baby Paradise.
Ironically, Nana apologizes to me sometimes for feeling she's not been the grandparent she wants to be! She feels like she devotes a lot of time to the foster kids, and not as much as she wants to Shane. Nana, you are super. The boy loves you dearly. I'm going to have to try and up my game so that he doesn't always freak out when I come to pick him up. It's heart-rending sometimes. I feel like my son is blessed to be a part of my family, because I had such good parents. My prayer is that I can create the same family atmosphere for Shane that I had growing up. No family is ever perfect, but my clan bonded. Thank you, Nana, for all of your help with child care when Carrie and I are trying to work and make ends meet.
My dad had a funny comment as Shane was bawling. It was something along the lines of "Get used to disappointing your kids. You'll be doing it your whole life!" Out of context it sounds cynical. If you know my dad, you'd see the wisdom and humor behind it. Kids will always want things, including things they should not have. I'm going to be a bully in Shane's mind every time I prevent him from jabbing a fork in an electric socket or I pull him away from a hot stove. At 16, I'm going to disappoint him when a corvette never shows up in the driveway. I love my son, and I'll do what's best for him...even when it's the last thing he wants.
Boy, I don't know if I could have sold that line to the 2 year old version of me. Life's funny like that, isn't it?
Thursday, Carrie was gone from 7:30 AM to 11:00 PM last night on business. To help pass some of the time, Shane and I visited Nana's house. I admit, sometimes I am jealous of Nana's power over my son. He loves her. My mom is the most natural baby person I've ever met. Where I get tired of playing the same game over and over, she seems to get energized by the presence of a baby.
And Shane reacts to her. I've seen the tears and fits to prove it when I try to take him out of her arms. Shane will laugh and play for me, but if Nana's around he wants her to hold him and Dada to go take a break elsewhere.
While Carrie was out, I decided to spoil Shane and take him to the pool. You would think this would make me #1 Dada. However, I had to drop by my parents house first to pick up my cellphone (plus, they had the pool passes and I wanted to get in for free). Shane saw Nana. When I packed him up to go to the pool with my Dad and the foster kids, he went ballistics. There were tears galore. Shane did not want to leave Nana with the evil Dada.
He cried the whole way to the pool.
Thankfully, it was only a 3 minute commute. I got to be Super-Dada for running around in the baby pool with him for an hour. There was one time early on where Shane fell and I didn't react fast enough, but he learned to really like the water. I want to do it again, so he doesn't only equate leaving Nana's house as me tearing him away from Baby Paradise.
Ironically, Nana apologizes to me sometimes for feeling she's not been the grandparent she wants to be! She feels like she devotes a lot of time to the foster kids, and not as much as she wants to Shane. Nana, you are super. The boy loves you dearly. I'm going to have to try and up my game so that he doesn't always freak out when I come to pick him up. It's heart-rending sometimes. I feel like my son is blessed to be a part of my family, because I had such good parents. My prayer is that I can create the same family atmosphere for Shane that I had growing up. No family is ever perfect, but my clan bonded. Thank you, Nana, for all of your help with child care when Carrie and I are trying to work and make ends meet.
My dad had a funny comment as Shane was bawling. It was something along the lines of "Get used to disappointing your kids. You'll be doing it your whole life!" Out of context it sounds cynical. If you know my dad, you'd see the wisdom and humor behind it. Kids will always want things, including things they should not have. I'm going to be a bully in Shane's mind every time I prevent him from jabbing a fork in an electric socket or I pull him away from a hot stove. At 16, I'm going to disappoint him when a corvette never shows up in the driveway. I love my son, and I'll do what's best for him...even when it's the last thing he wants.
Boy, I don't know if I could have sold that line to the 2 year old version of me. Life's funny like that, isn't it?
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Time flies
Time is something I think about often nowadays.
In my childhood, I remember the summers lasting a lifetime and school years lasting an eternity. Each one (especially the school year) seemed to go on forever. The days were long. The hours filled with many activities.
When I entered high school, my school switched to a block schedule. That's when I first recall time 'speeding up.' Instead of spending a bored eternity in 7 classes each day, I was only trapped in 3.5 bored eternities. Counting off finished classes was much easier, and when the whole class was spent in a daydream about not being in class it didn't matter if I was in the class for a little longer or not. The school year went by in a blaze.
Time shifted into a higher gear again when college started. The classes were less frequent; the semesters shorter; the breaks longer. Oh, there were definitely bits that dragged. I had more free time than I used to though, and without needing to wake up at the crack of dawn I would sleep longer and later (as a freshman, my earliest class was at 1:30 PM three times a week..which I did oversleep and show up late to a couple of times).
Working full-time provided another boost to Father Time's pace. In my last year of college, I was working full time as a substitute teacher (35hr/wk) and part time at the regional library as a page (20hr/wk). The expectations were very low and easy to exceed, but I enjoyed the work (at least some of it) and the company. My friends and I found plenty of adventures and games in the off hours as well.
Becoming a full teacher upped the expectations, my efforts, and ate up more of the day. Somewhere along the way, I got in the habit of counting down periods of the day, days of the week, and even weeks in the year. I'm a math nerd, so I'd even calculate progress in fractions and what percent each period of time was worth. This had the effect of making time feel like it was slipping by even faster. On a daily work basis, this was welcomed! Still, I felt like there wasn't as much time in the day as there used to be.
When Carrie got pregnant, I wondered what I used to do with all my spare time! Then Shane arrived and I wondered how I could not have mastered at least a couple foreign languages in the time Carrie was pregnant! My little man eats up much of my day playing and pooping. Some hundred veteran parents told me "The days are long, and the years short."
Boy, were they right.
There are times when I count every minute until nap time. Shane will be tired, fussy, and highly resistant to the idea. Napping would be the best thing for him, but he's sure that the moment he goes to sleep the real fun will start. At those moments, you can imagine how slow time crawls. However, I am always amazed when I look at baby pictures. Shane sprouts inches in every one. It's shocking how fast he's developed. If I had a choice, the days would shorten, but the weeks would lengthen! What's it going to be like when Shane's older, or (Heaven allow) I become a grandfather one day? Does time slow down again, or does it keep accelerating at a breakneck pace? I know it's not actually going any faster, but maybe I've had too much practice at passing the boring bits.
Just a Shane's-nap-time-musing.
In my childhood, I remember the summers lasting a lifetime and school years lasting an eternity. Each one (especially the school year) seemed to go on forever. The days were long. The hours filled with many activities.
When I entered high school, my school switched to a block schedule. That's when I first recall time 'speeding up.' Instead of spending a bored eternity in 7 classes each day, I was only trapped in 3.5 bored eternities. Counting off finished classes was much easier, and when the whole class was spent in a daydream about not being in class it didn't matter if I was in the class for a little longer or not. The school year went by in a blaze.
Time shifted into a higher gear again when college started. The classes were less frequent; the semesters shorter; the breaks longer. Oh, there were definitely bits that dragged. I had more free time than I used to though, and without needing to wake up at the crack of dawn I would sleep longer and later (as a freshman, my earliest class was at 1:30 PM three times a week..which I did oversleep and show up late to a couple of times).
Working full-time provided another boost to Father Time's pace. In my last year of college, I was working full time as a substitute teacher (35hr/wk) and part time at the regional library as a page (20hr/wk). The expectations were very low and easy to exceed, but I enjoyed the work (at least some of it) and the company. My friends and I found plenty of adventures and games in the off hours as well.
Becoming a full teacher upped the expectations, my efforts, and ate up more of the day. Somewhere along the way, I got in the habit of counting down periods of the day, days of the week, and even weeks in the year. I'm a math nerd, so I'd even calculate progress in fractions and what percent each period of time was worth. This had the effect of making time feel like it was slipping by even faster. On a daily work basis, this was welcomed! Still, I felt like there wasn't as much time in the day as there used to be.
When Carrie got pregnant, I wondered what I used to do with all my spare time! Then Shane arrived and I wondered how I could not have mastered at least a couple foreign languages in the time Carrie was pregnant! My little man eats up much of my day playing and pooping. Some hundred veteran parents told me "The days are long, and the years short."
Boy, were they right.
There are times when I count every minute until nap time. Shane will be tired, fussy, and highly resistant to the idea. Napping would be the best thing for him, but he's sure that the moment he goes to sleep the real fun will start. At those moments, you can imagine how slow time crawls. However, I am always amazed when I look at baby pictures. Shane sprouts inches in every one. It's shocking how fast he's developed. If I had a choice, the days would shorten, but the weeks would lengthen! What's it going to be like when Shane's older, or (Heaven allow) I become a grandfather one day? Does time slow down again, or does it keep accelerating at a breakneck pace? I know it's not actually going any faster, but maybe I've had too much practice at passing the boring bits.
Just a Shane's-nap-time-musing.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Summer Goals
Every summer, I make goals for myself. This summer is no exception.
This year I have three main goals:
1) Take a whole lot of the county's academy courses ( >= 10 credits)
2) Fix up the house from outside to in
3) Get Shane to drink from a cup independently
Goal #1 is to help get a raise next summer if I don't get a tech job. Goal #2 is because we just moved and I want it done before work starts up. Goal #3 is because I keep reading about "The bottle is the root of all evil" and I figure it's good to have goals in general.
Yesterday, Carrie and I had a day 'off' while Genevieve watched Shane. This constituted a Home Depot run, lunch out, and hours of yard work for me. I chopped up old overgrown rose bushes (those suckers are sharp!) and pulled weeds the whole time. The day 'off' constituted a Home Depot run, lunch out, and then feeling sick and taking a three hour nap for Carrie. She was bitten by a tick last week, and they gave her antibiotics for Lyme disease. She must be feeling better this morning though, because she already hung a picture and sanded down the sunroom doors so that they close easier.
Goal #3.....well, if you saw my post yesterday where I was frustrated, you know that there's a lot of room to grow! Oh well. You can hand a baby water, but you can't make them drink it. If anything, you have to be prepared to clean up after it.
Happy 4th of July!
This year I have three main goals:
1) Take a whole lot of the county's academy courses ( >= 10 credits)
2) Fix up the house from outside to in
3) Get Shane to drink from a cup independently
Goal #1 is to help get a raise next summer if I don't get a tech job. Goal #2 is because we just moved and I want it done before work starts up. Goal #3 is because I keep reading about "The bottle is the root of all evil" and I figure it's good to have goals in general.
Yesterday, Carrie and I had a day 'off' while Genevieve watched Shane. This constituted a Home Depot run, lunch out, and hours of yard work for me. I chopped up old overgrown rose bushes (those suckers are sharp!) and pulled weeds the whole time. The day 'off' constituted a Home Depot run, lunch out, and then feeling sick and taking a three hour nap for Carrie. She was bitten by a tick last week, and they gave her antibiotics for Lyme disease. She must be feeling better this morning though, because she already hung a picture and sanded down the sunroom doors so that they close easier.
Goal #3.....well, if you saw my post yesterday where I was frustrated, you know that there's a lot of room to grow! Oh well. You can hand a baby water, but you can't make them drink it. If anything, you have to be prepared to clean up after it.
Happy 4th of July!
Monday, July 2, 2012
Friday Night Storms
Friday night an epic storm swept through our area. Carrie and I were just laying down when the house started to shake. My first thought was "Is this what an earthquake feels like?" My second thought was "Wow, the wind is loud." Carrie and I raised the blinds and saw trees bending, shed doors swinging open, and the clouds brewing up trouble.
Immediately, we turned on the TV. Carrie ran downstairs to get the laptop. She was worried and the time it took for the TV to power up and me to change the channel was unacceptable for her nerves. She needed to be moving. By the time she ran back upstairs with the laptop, we'd both heard the same news. Severe thunderstorms. A real doozy.
My wife's first thought was Shane. She was scared for him, and scared for the house. I didn't want to wake him if it wasn't necessary. I told Carrie to take Shane's playpen on the main floor to the basement. I went to grab the aerobed from the guest bedroom. My plan was to avoid waking Shane if necessary, but have a bolt hole in the basement if we needed it. Afterwards, we grabbed flashlights, batteries, and went back upstairs to be near our boy and watch the news.
The windows shook and moved, but nothing broke and the storm passed over. We were relatively unscathed except for our shed doors blowing open and trees bending more than a tree should. Two million other people weren't as lucky.
Saturday morning was when I figured out how bad our area was hit. My father-in-law called to check in on us, and I turned around and called my parents to check in on them. The cells wouldn't connect. Their landline was down, as well. The news reported that two million homes were without power as far away as Ohio. Shane and I drove over to my parents to check in. Traffic lights were dark and there were some people doing silly things in traffic.
When Shane and I arrived at my parents, it was easy to see power was out for the neighborhood. Thankfully, it was still acceptable outside and the triple digit heatwave wasn't supposed to kick in until after noon. I immediately told my parents that they were free to stay in our new house as long as they needed. Jama's a Southerner from the Gulf coastline, but without A/C I figured the house would go beyond even her limits.
In the end, it all worked out wonderfully. Around 3 PM, my brother Patrick knocked on our door suffering from internet withdrawal. He had his computer, a sleeping bag, and a 2-liter of Mountain Dew to his name. He wanted to stay for as long as the juice wasn't flowing to my parents! Three hours later, the rest of the clan and Matt's fiance showed up.
Carrie was an awesome hostess. She did a lightning clean-up before they arrived, and cooked everyone dinner. Afterwards, she improvised some of the best muffins from scratch. I couldn't help but laugh and grin ear-to-ear as she was dancing and giddy from tasting the batter. The night ended with me putting Shane to bed while a round of Spades was played. The clan had received news that power was restored an hour earlier, and they packed back in to their cars and headed home.
It was great having a home large enough and with enough parking to accommodate my family when they were in need. I really enjoyed having them over. It sounds like it may become a monthly get-together! I certainly hope so. Next time, I hope a twin can come too. Megan spent Friday night trapped in an elevator at her apartment complex. The lights were out in her section of the city so she and her husband weren't able to make the outing. I still feel like I owe her big for offering to babysit for free so that Carrie and I could go out for our anniversary.
Anyway, that's the quick-snippet of our storm weathering. Patrick stayed over the night, and as far as I can tell most of our area was back to normal lickity-split. We were some of the fortunate few. My thoughts and prayers go out to the hundreds of thousands who were not as lucky.
Immediately, we turned on the TV. Carrie ran downstairs to get the laptop. She was worried and the time it took for the TV to power up and me to change the channel was unacceptable for her nerves. She needed to be moving. By the time she ran back upstairs with the laptop, we'd both heard the same news. Severe thunderstorms. A real doozy.
My wife's first thought was Shane. She was scared for him, and scared for the house. I didn't want to wake him if it wasn't necessary. I told Carrie to take Shane's playpen on the main floor to the basement. I went to grab the aerobed from the guest bedroom. My plan was to avoid waking Shane if necessary, but have a bolt hole in the basement if we needed it. Afterwards, we grabbed flashlights, batteries, and went back upstairs to be near our boy and watch the news.
The windows shook and moved, but nothing broke and the storm passed over. We were relatively unscathed except for our shed doors blowing open and trees bending more than a tree should. Two million other people weren't as lucky.
Saturday morning was when I figured out how bad our area was hit. My father-in-law called to check in on us, and I turned around and called my parents to check in on them. The cells wouldn't connect. Their landline was down, as well. The news reported that two million homes were without power as far away as Ohio. Shane and I drove over to my parents to check in. Traffic lights were dark and there were some people doing silly things in traffic.
When Shane and I arrived at my parents, it was easy to see power was out for the neighborhood. Thankfully, it was still acceptable outside and the triple digit heatwave wasn't supposed to kick in until after noon. I immediately told my parents that they were free to stay in our new house as long as they needed. Jama's a Southerner from the Gulf coastline, but without A/C I figured the house would go beyond even her limits.
In the end, it all worked out wonderfully. Around 3 PM, my brother Patrick knocked on our door suffering from internet withdrawal. He had his computer, a sleeping bag, and a 2-liter of Mountain Dew to his name. He wanted to stay for as long as the juice wasn't flowing to my parents! Three hours later, the rest of the clan and Matt's fiance showed up.
Carrie was an awesome hostess. She did a lightning clean-up before they arrived, and cooked everyone dinner. Afterwards, she improvised some of the best muffins from scratch. I couldn't help but laugh and grin ear-to-ear as she was dancing and giddy from tasting the batter. The night ended with me putting Shane to bed while a round of Spades was played. The clan had received news that power was restored an hour earlier, and they packed back in to their cars and headed home.
It was great having a home large enough and with enough parking to accommodate my family when they were in need. I really enjoyed having them over. It sounds like it may become a monthly get-together! I certainly hope so. Next time, I hope a twin can come too. Megan spent Friday night trapped in an elevator at her apartment complex. The lights were out in her section of the city so she and her husband weren't able to make the outing. I still feel like I owe her big for offering to babysit for free so that Carrie and I could go out for our anniversary.
Anyway, that's the quick-snippet of our storm weathering. Patrick stayed over the night, and as far as I can tell most of our area was back to normal lickity-split. We were some of the fortunate few. My thoughts and prayers go out to the hundreds of thousands who were not as lucky.
My Stubborn Boy
Whenever I point out how stubborn my son is, my wife says "I wonder where he gets that from?"
Shane has started resisting solid food more and more lately. Today, I've offered baby cereal w/applesauce, a Gerber 3rd stage chicken dinner, and Ritz crackers to no avail. I did get him to eat some cheese at one point, but he's been pissed off every time I offer him anything but a bottle. I eventually caved and offered a bottle, but I made him hold it up. THAT made him spitting mad. Shane ended up holding the bottle long enough to get a meal in, and all the fussing tuckered him out. He's sleeping in the other room while I type this.
It's hard to know what battles to wage sometimes. Nana had me on bottles until I was close to 3 or 4. The books and online articles I read all say "phase out (or get rid of) those bottles now! Eat more, drink less!" Do I go with has Shane happy and healthy? Or do I shake the boat and force the solid food issue? Shane's healthy. No doctor has said otherwise. I asked Nana if I was as willful of a child as Shane is and she said "Who knows? We gave you whatever you wanted." I like to think I turned out (mostly) fine, and the spoiling stopped at one point (Trust me, I spent 7th-11th grade grounded from electronics on weekdays! No C's were allowed.).
Such is parenting. It's all decisions and doing your best to make that decision work while praying you don't screw your kid up 20 years down the road, right? For now, I'm going to stop buying whole milk and transition Shane down to 2% once these gallons run out. He's been doing better with water too, so I plan to offer that between milks and keep on offering solid food. Hopefully, it's just a teething thing and he'll go back to eating solid food again soon enough.
Time to sneak upstairs and get Shane's sheets. He somehow managed to pull down his diaper and pee out the side or something this morning. There was a big old wet spot on the bed, but the diaper wasn't full enough to have been an overflow. It ain't always fun, but I do believe the work is good for the soul and it's for a good cause: my son!
I love ya kid, even when you think I'm the devil. Remember that in your teen years, please.
UPDATE: It has to be teething. Shane's been tugging at his ears and wouldn't eat readily for Nana either. Most of what you're reading in this post is a tired and frustrated Dada from a fussy and unhappy baby who's normally much happier. I love being a father and could never go back to a life without the responsibility, but damn it's tiring keeping up. I'm looking forward to when Shane's a little older and a little more independent. I used to have a great time playing with 2 and 3 year olds when I taught Sunday school way back in my teenage years.
Shane has started resisting solid food more and more lately. Today, I've offered baby cereal w/applesauce, a Gerber 3rd stage chicken dinner, and Ritz crackers to no avail. I did get him to eat some cheese at one point, but he's been pissed off every time I offer him anything but a bottle. I eventually caved and offered a bottle, but I made him hold it up. THAT made him spitting mad. Shane ended up holding the bottle long enough to get a meal in, and all the fussing tuckered him out. He's sleeping in the other room while I type this.
It's hard to know what battles to wage sometimes. Nana had me on bottles until I was close to 3 or 4. The books and online articles I read all say "phase out (or get rid of) those bottles now! Eat more, drink less!" Do I go with has Shane happy and healthy? Or do I shake the boat and force the solid food issue? Shane's healthy. No doctor has said otherwise. I asked Nana if I was as willful of a child as Shane is and she said "Who knows? We gave you whatever you wanted." I like to think I turned out (mostly) fine, and the spoiling stopped at one point (Trust me, I spent 7th-11th grade grounded from electronics on weekdays! No C's were allowed.).
Such is parenting. It's all decisions and doing your best to make that decision work while praying you don't screw your kid up 20 years down the road, right? For now, I'm going to stop buying whole milk and transition Shane down to 2% once these gallons run out. He's been doing better with water too, so I plan to offer that between milks and keep on offering solid food. Hopefully, it's just a teething thing and he'll go back to eating solid food again soon enough.
Time to sneak upstairs and get Shane's sheets. He somehow managed to pull down his diaper and pee out the side or something this morning. There was a big old wet spot on the bed, but the diaper wasn't full enough to have been an overflow. It ain't always fun, but I do believe the work is good for the soul and it's for a good cause: my son!
I love ya kid, even when you think I'm the devil. Remember that in your teen years, please.
UPDATE: It has to be teething. Shane's been tugging at his ears and wouldn't eat readily for Nana either. Most of what you're reading in this post is a tired and frustrated Dada from a fussy and unhappy baby who's normally much happier. I love being a father and could never go back to a life without the responsibility, but damn it's tiring keeping up. I'm looking forward to when Shane's a little older and a little more independent. I used to have a great time playing with 2 and 3 year olds when I taught Sunday school way back in my teenage years.
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