To sleep, perchance to Dream

So Little Man slept in his Big Boy Bed all night. We were, quite frankly, surprised that he did not wake up in the middle of the night and join us in the family bed. We checked on him regularly, mainly because we are insanely over-protective. It seems that Little Man sleeps much like any other toddler that I have ever heard about. I mean, he sleeps everywhere on that bed. His head was on his pillow when I laid him down. At 11:00 he was half hanging off the bed. At midnight he was back on his pillow and his feet were against the side rail. At 4:00 his head was pointing down toward the footboard and his feet were on his pillow. At 5:30 when I got up for work, he was laying on his head and shoulders and knees with his little butt pointed straight up in the air. I guess original sleep orientation means nothing to him.

Wifey said that he awoke a bit confused, but otherwise none the worse for wear. She said that made some rustling noises around 7 this morning, so she went to check on him. He was awake and in the hallway. They went back to the family bed and watched some TV for 30 minutes before commencing the morning rituals of eating and getting dressed for the day. All in all, it sounds like it went rather well. This all makes pretty good sense though. Prior to the soy allergy kicking in, he was almost sleeping the entire night on his own in the crib. As I have lamented before the soy allergy ended all of that.

Tonight, I imagine that it will be like fighting a cornered tiger to get him to fall asleep. He was pretty good at fighting sleep, but I am pretty sure that he will be pulling out his big guns this evening. I cannot wait.

All in all my body feels better from the more restful sleep, but my soul is empty due to the vacated bed space of my little one. It is difficult and yet still exciting to see your little one growing up.

It has been absolutely insane here at work. Well, that makes it sound like I have had tons of productive work that has required my attention. That would be a bit of a fabrication. I have had a very little bit of work that has been consuming every ounce of my time. FYI: I thought about making a metric reference, bnut “every gram of my time” sounds idiotic. Anyway… I have been doing work for Asshat these past few days, and he is, well, an asshat.

Definition:

ass·hat: (ăs’·hăt), n Vulgar Slang, pl ass·hats

1. someone who wears their own gluteus maximus as headwear.
2. someone who has their own head up their proverbial ass

[Middle English asse, from Old English assa, perhaps of Celtic origin, ultimately from Latin asinus.]

He finally passed along edits to me for a meeting that happened at 1:30 this afternoon at 3:00 yesterday. What a jerk. Asshat! Asshat! Asshat! So I have been going nonstop for a good long bit now. If you excuse me, I am going to rest for a bit.

To recap:
Little Man slept in his own bed until 7 this morning
I have had very little time to even tie my shoes
That’s why my shoes have a buckle
Not like the Pilgrims’ buckle shoes
Those are just plain silly

Pine Marten in the House

Why can’t the weather make up its damn mind? I’m talking to you Mother Nature. Choose a course and stay with it for a while. I am tired of the 65°+ degrees in November (18.33° C for my metric friends and 291.4833 K for the physicists in the room). If I wanted this kind of crappy weather for a winter, I would never have left Alabama. I mean come on we had a high of 28° F 4 days ago (-2.22° C for my metric friends and 270.9278 K for the physicists in the room).

My head cannot take this shit. Since the temperature spiked back up into the balmy 60’s my head has been throbbing like I just read something by L. Ron Hubbard. I am fine with some variation in the weather, but this wild shifting crap is slowly killing my poor little head.

Secondly, could we ratchet back the wind just a bit? My Jetta involuntarily changed lanes yesterday on the way home from work. I am not saying that a Jetta is a car with the most amazing aerodynamics, but sweet mother of mercy, it is a fairly low to the ground sedan. I am glad I no longer drive and Isuzu Trooper. That piece of crap was a frikkin’ sail in the wind.

Let me be clear for all of you dedicated readers out there (I think there might be 4 of you), I do not mind weather in the 60’s or weather in the 20’s, I just feel there should be more transition between those temperatures than just my paltry 15 minute commute to work. Did I mention that my head hurts? I swear to God something is trying to claw its way out of my cranium through my forehead. There are easier ways, Thing-in-my-Head. There are easier ways….

It helps if I close my eyes and breathe deeply and cease conscious thought, so, at least I got that going for me. Actually if I could just turn off the light and close my eyes, the blinding pain in my head would go away. Sure I would be sleeping, but that is just a plus. As God as my witness, there is some heavy construction occurring on my brain cavity, and none of it has to do with me getting any smarter.

On a side note: tonight we are going to attempt to have Little Man sleep in the Big Boy Bed. It is time. Wifey and I are a bit odd in our choice of bed size. We have defied the common tradition and only sleep in a full sized bed. No queen sized for us. We do not have a California king sized bed. We have a measly full-sized bed.

The full sized bed has suited our purpose very well prior to the invasion of Little Man. For the most part it has worked fairly well, even with Little Man, but recently, he seems to have gotten larger. This has resulted in my not being able to have both shoulders on the bed at the same time for about 4 months. This lack of being able to square my shoulders has caused all manner of aches and pain. Yesterday, I was not able to move my right elbow without it hurting until about 3 in the afternoon. I also have been having some pain shooting down my left leg, oddly enough where the sciatic nerve tends to run. I think this pain has a direct link to my poor sleeping conditions as well.

In the past few weeks, I have been getting awakened by Little Man placing his knee or elbow or foot forcibly into the small of my back. It is time for him to be on his own for at least part of the night. We are not expecting him to leave the family bed cold turkey, but we should at least get a few hours of non-contorted sleep. At least I am hoping.

To Recap:
The Pine Marten in my head is tired of being cooped up

It has decided that jack-hammering a hole in my forehead is the best route of escape
L. Ron Hubbard is a nutcase
Or is it actually a Thetan in my head?
Maybe he was on to something?
Damn you Xenu, Damn you to Hell!
Big Boy Bed, meet Little Man
Little Man, meet Big Boy Bed

Fowl Holiday 05

Fowl Holiday 05 has come and went. There is a dearth of stories associated with this holiday meal. Turns out that with so many people there that my parental units still felt like they needed to impress, they were pretty innocuous the whole visit. I really wish there were more stuff to chat about, but the parents were very well behaved. It seems that when my best friend from high school, my mom-in-law, and new sister-in-law are in the house, my parents wish to keep up the façade that they are “nice” people.

Okay, the good people that I work with (not those bad ones, you bastards can rot in Hell!!) have been having some questions about the official stance I have taken on my Parents about them being “good people” not “nice people.” I will endeavor today to explain this stance in a bit more detail.

My parents are good people not nice people (thesis statement). In this I mean, they are not felons, they pay their taxes, they go to church, and they do all the things that people do to stay in good standing with society at large. Dad is involved with his city government’s emergency preparedness and emergency response. He is active in the Boy Scout Troop of my brother’s and my youths. He is a member of the church chancellery choir. Mom teaches piano lessons. She is a substitute music teacher. She is the director of the church’s hand-bell choir. She is also a member of the church’s chancellery choir. These two are the typical sub-urbanites.

The problem is that they are not nice people. By this I mean that they are very judgmental. They tend to discredit anything they do not understand. They are, in the simplest terms, unhappy. They are unhappy because they cannot accept their faults. They lash out due to this unhappiness and become, oh, how shall I say, sanctimonious jerks. They are very difficult to be around, because of the arrogance they use to hide their insecurities. Mom & Dad are terribly afraid that people will find out that they are not perfect. I know it is surprising that they are not perfect, like everyone else is.

A few examples of their judgmental sides. 1. If someone buys a better car than my parents have, then those people care too much about their cars. 2. If someone buys a larger/nicer house than my parents have, then those people are snooty fro trying to live in a better neighborhood. 3. If someone buys themselves a toothbrush instead of using the one that the dentist gave them, then that person is really bad with money. 4. If someone were to place their personal priorities differently than my parents, then those people are idiots.
If someone goes on a vacation that does not involve visiting family, those people don’t love their family (not a personal experience... yet, but they do not know about our drive to Philadelphia)

They are also not generous people. My parents are not the people who wish others a good morning. At Halloween, when I was growing up, they would “let” kids get a handful of pennies from a ceramic pumpkin. Sure the opening to the pumpkin kept kids from getting more than 15 cents. I am surprised our house was not egged more often. Lets be clear, this not merely a money thing, it is a spiritual and intellectual lack of generosity as well.

I say this knowing that they did the absolute best they could raising my brother and I with the skills that they had on hand. If they had more skills at the time, they would have used them, because they did and do love me. Their problem lies with not being able to accept their imperfections. Ergo, they are unhappy judgmental jerks.

That being said, Little Man was the hit of the holiday. He got along swimmingly with G-Money. By the end of the holiday weekend G-Money was singing and doing a little bit of dancing with Little Man. All of you who know G-Money, just marvel at the amazing Little Man’s powers. The trips to and from Cincinnati were boring as all get out .

To recap: Menu Items in blue
Nothing really happened worth commenting on or remembering for that matter
Turkey
I am sure there are some depressed folks out there in cyber-land due to the relative blandness of my holiday
Ham
We are moving Little Man to the Big Boy Bed this week
Stuffing from the bird
It looks like it could be a heart-warming success (he seems to like the bed in his room)
Slow Cooker Stuffing (mushroom and basil)
G-Money and I moved the computer from the attic into the 3rd bedroom
Side Stuffing (sausage stuffing)
It is much warmer in the 3rd bedroom than in the attic
Fat back green beans
Green beans need… nay, deserve to be served with bacon
Corn
Hoping to have more funny stories as the week progresses
Bread
Not much else to chat about… maybe tomorrow
Mashed potatoes
It was a good holiday
Pecan Pie
Little Man should be napping in his Big Boy Bed this afternoon
Pumpkin Pie
I am getting fat… ter
Pumpkin spice cupcakes
I have decided that I really do not like roast turkey all that much
But I do love me some whipped cream

Thanks?!?!

So what am I thankful for? At the moment the usuals pop up. I have a good life, My kid is a sweet and loving little guy, and I have the absolute best wife in the world. Those answers are kind of prescribed. They are too easy, if you will. So what and I really thankful for.

I am thankful for:

The fact that Wifey doesn’t have scaley feet: would make sleeping next to her much less appealing

Little Man is not older than 2.3333 yet: every age seems to be the perfect age
Mountain Dew: mmmmm

Vanilla Bean Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory: mmmmm mmmmm

The color green: it is like blue with some yellow

The cheer that the Tuskan Raider does after wholluping Luke in Star Wars: A New Hope:

“Urt…. Urt urt urt urt!” pump that gaffi stick up and down, you cold-cocked a farm boy! Boo-yah

The Lord of the Rings books and movies: both finely crafted and are genre defining

Cake: the band with the wicked base line

Vanilla cake with white frosting: just tasty

G-Money, B-Dawg, and K-Pop for the Friday evening WoW: how else do I get my quilboar killing on

Back scratchers: for the hard to reach places

Angry Kitty: God, I wish I could find this .gif image it is all animated and shooty (if anyone has it please leave a comment on the blog)

That the voices in my head mainly chat about Mountain Dew and Vanilla Bean Cheesecake: the constant kill this person, kill that person got tiresome.

The theme music from MacGyver: I would not be able to do improvisational engineering without it

The theme music from the A-Team: oddly, other than the MacGyver Theme music, this theme music replaces all other 80/90’s action shows theme music in my head

That more things do not come coconut flavored: yeeee-uck

My prehensile tail: just checking to see if you are actually reading this

Fowl Holiday 05’ is almost here and gone: darn family

That I hain’t in Alabamer no mo: reason is evident

Mashed potatoes are so yummy: mmmmmm yet again

Wool socks: don’t ask

Wednesday lunches: where else can one talk about fornicating with a dead horse without seeming out of place

My parental units aren’t getting here until noon tomorrow

My parental units are going back tomorrow evening

There is other stuff, but I am tired of writing.

One thing of note: Growing up in ‘Bama when we were in music class during the Thanksgiving Season when we had to sing that dreaded "Over the River and Through the Woods" song. None of us understood why that person was traveling for Thanksgiving Dinner through snow. It might snow in January, but not much. Definitely wouldn’t snow in November, that would be just plain impossible. FYI: It is snowing really steadily here today.

To recap:
A prehensile tale would be awesome
I gots to pick up G-Money in Cinci tonight
½ day till Fowl Holiday ‘05
MMMMM stuffing
Have a safe and happy holiday for those of you in the US
All you other people, enjoy yourselves anyway
The Scientific symbol for the "Em" is \oo/
.... 'cause there is an "em" in "Hook'em Horns"

Falling Flat

So on the way to work today a few things happened. Number 1 and most importantly, last night the right front tire decided it had seen enough. It was all, “I’ve had it, I will see you guys in Hell!” To which it promptly poked a hole in itself and slowly deflated on my ride into work. Now this would not have been too much of a problem if any of the 4 gas stations that I stopped at on the way in had their air pumps up and working.

Sunoco: Hand written sign taped over the machine “Out of order”

Citgo: Coin slot jammed with what could only be determined to be wooden skewers

Kroger: NO air pump, but it had the sign for an air pump, and a place for one to be mounted (not like that you sick freaks)

BP: Someone had cut the air hose itself, there was only about a 2 foot length of hose dangling in the cold cold wind

So, this would not have been too much of a deal if it had just been yours truly in the car all by his lonesome. Alas and alack it was not just me, it was me and a 30 pound ball of energy that goes by the name of (on this blog) Little Man.

So there I was traversing around the northwestern outskirts of Columbus with a bum tire and Laurie Berkner playing over the car stereo system for Little Man who was strapped in his seat. Each place we went to that had an un-working or non-existent air hose caused a few more utterances of expletives, much to Little Man’s glee. By the BP station he was clapping along with my tirade of foul vitriol, and giggling at the cacophonous litany of curses I was flinging with wild abandon. Laurie Berkner was, oddly enough, singing “The Biggest Monster” at that time. How apropos. It was quite the juxtaposition of sounds. My voice stringing together a… um... string of curses, Laurie’s mellifluous voice singing sweetly, and Little Man’s giggling, all in one car.

Luckily across the street from that particular BP station with the cut air hose is a Firestone Repair Center. So I limped my car across the street to their parking lot and unstrapped the 30 pound giggle box that is my son. We went in and got the car on their schedule and then walked right out of the store to walk over to his care givers. They only live about a half mile away from the Firestone. During the slow promenade from the tire store to the caregivers, Little Man wanted nothing to do with him actually walking. So I carried the struggling mass that is my child. Then I walked from their house to my work.

$250 later and now I have 2 new tires and a freshly aligned car for my driving pleasure. So that was my morning, how are you guys doing out there?

To Recap:
My 15 minute commute lasted from 8:30 to 9:15 today
50 dollars a map? On what planet?
At least it did not happen while I was traveling to pick up G-Money tomorrow in Cinci
“Him and her ask so many questions!!!”
Shout out to Seth’s mama: “Don’t let fuckers get you down!”
So what are we doing tomorrow, Brain?
Amazon.com calls Laurie Berkner the Ani DiFranco of kids' music, no wonder Wifey likes her

Impending Doom

House cleaning is a bitch. This is especially true when you have a 2.25 year old undoing what you have just done. If one of us puts it away, Little Man gets it out. It is a endless cycle of cleaning and re-cleaning. Ah, but c’est la vie.

So it is only 3.5 days until the impending doom that is Fowl Holiday ’05. In those short days we need to clean the house and make sure we have seating available for all the myriad of guests who will be coming to Casa del SRH. At least this year it will not be a “Very Geriatric Thanksgiving.” It really was like a special episode of Blossom. There was something comical about last year though… one fo the participants was suffereing with some of the later stages of Alzhiemer's and another had just lost her husband. So the conversation would go something like this.

Alzhiemer's Patient: So [Wifey's Mom]* whatever happened to that nice gentleman that lived next door to you.

[Wifey's Mom]: He passed away just this October.

Rose (wife of recently deceased man): **cry cry cry**

5 minutes later...

Alzhiemer's Patient: So [Wifey's Mom] whatever happened to that nice gentleman that lived next door to you.

[Wifey's Mom]: He passed away just this October.

Rose (wife of recently deceased man): **cry cry cry**

At first it was kind of sad, but after time 15 it was kind of funny in a barbaric way. You know, how David Letterman used to bring the funny.

This year it should be much livelier.

I have a confession to make. My filter is eroding really really quick-like, I am finding it harder and harder to choke back my scathing commentary. It is something that seems to delight some of the co-workers, but could cause some serious trouble with the family of origin come Thursday. You see, I have tons of material to work with here. (note: all issues with family have been exaggerated for comedic effect)

First and foremost are my parents. Mom is both cheap and (how shall I say…) low-energy. Due to her penny pinching, even her brothers refer to her as Frugal [Mom’s Name]*. This woman tries to re-use everything. If it was a container, it can and should be used again. Remember way back when Lean Cuisine entrees came on a microwave safe plate with a plastic lid? Way back in the late 80’s, remember those? Well, she still uses them. It doesn’t matter that they are cracked and broken, they were free GOD DAMMIT!!!! FREEE!!! Well kinda free… She is also too ummm… low-energy to do actual crossword puzzles. You see, they take too much thinking. She has book upon book upon book of “Fill-Ins.” These puzzles are the ones that have the same look of a crossword layout with across and down, but instead of clues to figure out the words that fill in the spaces, it has a random listing of across words and down words that you fit into the boxes. It is like remedial crosswords.

Second is my Dad. Dad is a tad bit on the controlling side as well as dull as a stone. He wants it his way and only his way. Even if his way doesn’t work, that is how he wants it. His conversation also tends to revolve around the weather channel too much as well. Sweet mother of God! He could watch that channel 24 hours a day even if it is only on a 30 minute loop. After about 30 minutes of talking, my dad will ask about weather issues because he is out of material.

Third is my brother. This is a person who has been kicked out of the active armed forces 4 times, oh wait 5 I forgot the Air Force discharge. Lets see, he was booted from the Air Force once, and the Navy 4 times, but he is now a full-time reservist and about to move back to Virginia Beach. It is sad when the military is dredging that particular barrel over and over and over. One would think that the military would know that just a warm body will not hack it.

Fourth is the sister-in-law. She is a deer caught in headlights. She pretty much just married into the fam, and did not realize what she was getting herself into. Poor Poor girl.

With my filter going away and my relatives coming to town there is a high probability for hijinks to ensue.

To recap:

Little Man is the anti-cleaning agent
Fowl Holiday ’05 is coming
My parents are coming
My brother is coming
My neglected nephews are coming
I can’t help but dwell on the positive
Boy, I cannot think of anything esoteric to put in here today

* Name with-held to protect MY identity

I Think She Got 2nd, Some Other Kid was Just Freakin' out on the Dance Floor

So, Little Man pants’d Wifey at the Library last night. It was hilarious. He then attempted to pants me. I had on a belt, and now I think Wifey has seen the error of her yoga pants ways.

See we were at the local library’s Family Story Time. This is an event that occurs pretty much every week. We do not go so much though. It happens at 7 at night on Wednesdays, and with Little Man’s breathing treatment and bath, a 7 o’clock event is sometimes a bit on the late side for a tired and cranky Little Man. Anyway… we were actually at the Family Story Time last night and Little Man was running around like he was insane in the membrane, insane in the brain. Let me define “running around.” “Running around” in this instance was Little Man sobbing on my lap because we were making him go to Family Story Time. It took him about 15 minutes to calm down and think about interacting with the other kids there. Mainly it took a song with an inordinate amount of jumping to take place. Let’s just say, “He likes the jumping.”

So the next to last song of the Family Story Time is the “Silly Dance Contest.” This is a song done by some nameless shmuck that I am sure I could find out with just a little bit of Internet digging if I cared. Alas and alack, I care not. So the “Silly Dance Contest” is on and Little Man is shaking his money maker. His groove thing is moving, but now he wants to take it up a level. Taking it up a level, I guess, requires a dance partner. His momma would have to do. He reaches over to Wifey grabs both hips and attempts to pull himself up. He did not ascend the sheer cliff of Wifey as much as pants her.

Wifey lets out a startled yelp as her trousers were traveling floorward, and Little Man is just grinning and shaking his body like he just dont care; i said to, be a freakazoid if you dare … Anyway…Since his momma was not participating in the whole dancing thing, he turned his attention to ascending Mt. SRH. My belt kept my pants on, while the little one was climbing me and I was giggling at Wifey’s misfortune. So the “Silly Dance Contest” song ended and everyone started gathering their things together. Turns out Wifey’s things were her sense of self-worth and dignity. As far as a “Silly Dance Contest” can go, I think she had to at least have placed.

On a side note: I am the MacGyver of mouse traps. It seems that an old Cottonelle bag, some Aveeno Oatmeal Bath and a dirty diaper is an effective impromptu mousetrap. If I had to use duck tape and a Swiss Army knife, I am sure the theme music would have been playing in the background.

To recap
People at the library were treated to Wifey’s undies
They were clean at least
We tagged one mouse last night
Little Man thinks that a silly dance involves his momma’s pants hitting the floor
So do I
For those of you who remember the show, it was never a good thing to be MacGyver’s friend
This post was brought to you by Cypress Hill’s “Insane in the Membrane,” Midnight Star’s “Freakazoid,” and the number 7

Mus musculus

Okay, so I was not hallucinating when I was peeing Friday afternoon. I did see a mouse run across the floor. I prudently mentioned my sighting of the rodent to Wifey that evening when she got home, and we assured her that the mouse is an affliction upon our house due to the now lack of cats or anything cat smelling. Last night the rodent made itself known to Wifey in a more personal manner. While she was getting bedtime ritual stuff together for Little Man the mouse decided to show himself to Wifey. That was not a wise maneuver on the mousse part.

Wifey handled the mouse sighting very well. There was no screaming or histrionics. There was no running for help or standing on a chair. She merely talked to Little Man in very soothing tones about how they were going to leave that room. Later she confronted me about said mouse and how it was not allowed to be in her house anymore. I sagely agreed. So now I have a mandate to expulse the rodentia from our happy little home.

The odd thing about this rodent is that we have not really found any signs of its existence other than seeing the darn thing. Most other times I have been places that have a rodent problem there have been signs of such, droppings, gnawed up stuff, etc… That is not the case here, so far. In fact had we both not seen the rodent, I do not think that we would know that we had a mousish problem. So this weekend we are heading to the hardware store to get all things anti-mousish. Say good bye stupid mouse.

Good Bye stupid mouse!

Rest assured we will attempt to get rid of this mouse in the most humane way possible. So all of you that were going to call the animal protection league and PETA on me, don’t bother.

Wifey seems to be getting sick again. We were hoping that she was getting better, and for a bit she was. Personally I think she is keeping herself seeming a bit sick so she can call upon the illness when needed. That time would most likely be when my parents were around. Let’s get this straight, Wifey, I am onto you and your not-wanting-to-deal-with-my-parents-ways.

To recap:
There is a mouse in the house
It will not be there long
Wifey is ill
Come Fowl Holiday ’05 she better not be
On Belay!
Belay on!
I hate it when people finish sentences for me
Especially if they finish them incorrectly

No time for questions

So, I was in Cleveland yesterday, and that prevented me from posting anything worthwhile. Visiting Cleveland yesterday for the meeting reminded me why I dislike the city. I will just leave it at that, so as not to rile the Clevelanders. They seem to be rather staunch defenders of their city’s “honor.” With all that in mind, they are also very aware and sectarian about their “East Side” / “West Side” status.


Oh well.

I really do not have much to go with today, so I will be doing another 20 questions.

1. Paper or plastic? and why.

I go for plastic. The plastic bags can be wadded up much tighter than paper when thrown away. Many people feel that it is blasphemous not to get paper bags and recycle, or at least get paper bags and let them biodegrade in the landfills. The issue with biodegradation is that it requires sunlight and water, neither of which are present in large quantities inside the landfills.

2. Why is it that we always find what we are searching for in the last place we look?

Because, at that point we have found it, and no longer need to search.

3. Why is it "red sky at night, sailors delight, red sky in morning, sailors take warning?"

The idea behind that saying is that a red sky in the morning herald’s a stormy day. The only reason I can think that this might have any basis in reality has to do with the sun’s rays over all angle of incidence when it sets and when it rises refracting off the water molecules in the air. Maybe the humidity necessary to generate supercell storms at sea causes a more ruddy glow of the sky those mornings? That is my best guess.

4. Why are puppies considered cute, but adult dogs are not? Are they not still dogs?

They are still dogs, but puppies are all playful. They are new and fun, and they tumble around. If they bite, it is not hard. Dogs really bite the crap out of you.

5. Why do those who have a boyfriend/girlfriend insist on hooking up a single friend? Why couldn't they do that while they were also single?

Ah, misery loves company, take that how you want, it could go either way ;)

6. Does little man have a favorite item he wants from Santa?

You know, Wifey and I have not really had a chance to think about what Little Man will be getting this Yuletide season. We have either been dealing with his asthma, working our asses off, or sick ourselves. It is a good question. I think it may be time to get him more drawing supplies and get his creative juices flowing.

7. Anything good from Santa to you and wifey?

Not sure, I have not asked Santa. Next time I see him…

8. Are you moving before Thanksgiving, considering the onslaught of the uninvited?

Good question. Unfortunately the answer is “no.” I am still contemplating the idea of turning off all the lights and acting like we are not home. Yes, that is a better idea, then I can hear the swearing.

9. Favorite junk food? Like, if for all special occasions, holidays, and between-meal snacks forever you had to pick one thing, what would it be?

Favorite that has to fit all those caveats? That is a difficult question to answer. I would have to say that a Vanilla Bean Cheesecake would be the best of all worlds.

10. If you had to flee the country, where would you go (in general. We wouldn't want you to give away your whole plan, just in case)?

Well, I think a first stop would be Canada. They do not have a protected border, and they connect to everywhere.

11. Do you have a favorite romantic comedy? If so, please elaborate.

I would have to say, that currently it is Love Actually. It used to be L.A. Story with Steve Martin, but it has definitely been usurped by Love Actually.

12. Why is Paris Hilton famous?

Sweet mother of God! I have no freakin’ clue. The best I can come up with is that she has insane amounts of money and has decided that she wishes to be famous. When one has inordinate amounts of money, one can pretty much do anything they like. She hired a publicist and became determined to be famous. I hate her.

13. Coke or Pepsi?

Pepsi. Coke has a bit of a salty harshness in its after-taste. Pepsi is sweeter, in general, but more importantly, Pepsico is the company that owns Mountain Dew. Mountain Dew is my life sustaining elixir.

14. If the Hamburgler and Birdie got married, who would perform the ceremony? Mayor Mcheese? Ronald? It would have to be Ronald right? I mean the city would collapse if it were not for that clown. right?

I honestly think it would be Mayor McCheese. I am not sure if Ronald is a public notary. Is there something going on between Birdie and Hamburgalar? I always thought that Birdie was Ronny’s chick.

15. Is Grimace light in the loafers?

I think maybe.

16. I am sorry I am on this kick but... Who would win in a steel cage death match, Ronald or The King (burger king's new mascot)?

If it were on sheer longevity? I would say Ronald. But that King mascot is one scary looking bastard. Right now, my money is on the King. He is just plain hungrier than Ronald.

17. If you were forced to lose a sense, which of the 5 would it be?

My sense of decency, oh wait, that one’s already gone.

18. What is the secret song that you have always really enjoyed but would be embarrassed to admit for fear of ridicule?

Living La Vida Loca. It is just a fun little song, and that Ricky Martin is hot!

19. Do you think the Proclaimers would REALLY walk 500 miles or are they full of it?

Those me are sooooooo full of it. They might walk 5 or so, and then go wheezing into obscurity again.

20.

The graph of v = ƒ(t) is shown above. If 0 t 5, and if (t, v) is on the graph of ƒ, which of the following must be true?
a –10 ≤ v ≤ –5
b –5 ≤ v ≤ 0
c 0 ≤ v ≤ 5
d 5 ≤ v ≤ 10
e 10 ≤ v ≤ 15


The answer is D. This was labelled as a "Hard" question by the SAT's website.

To Recap:
I have work to do
Both Little Man and Wifey are doing well it seems
Some poor sucker actually found this site looking for "Arabian Whores" on Yahoo
I bet he was sorely dissappointed

Turtle Porn is still the most popular search that leads one here

People are perverts

Cleveland Rocks

Had a meeting in Cleveland today. Got into work stupid early, worked until we left for Cleveland. I just got back into town, I am going home for supper. I will be here stupid early tomorrow.

To recap:
Deal with it

Hey, Man, Can you spare a dime, I just need an Elmo!

Wifey’s throat is all scratchy, she is all chilled, achy, and stuffed up. I feel really bad for her, but, sadly, more worried about Little Man. It seemed, last winter, that any time Wifey or I got sick, so did he. Subsequently, every time he got sick he was put on Orapred due to his asthma flaring up. I am not sure that I can survive another winter of this.

On another matter, we have tabled the idea of moving Little Man out of our bed and into his own, until after Uncle G-Money visits us for Fowl Holiday ’05. That is just the way it has to be. We are not going to start instituting a new sleep regime only to parentally violate it the week after starting it. That would be insanely counter productive.

On another matter about Little Man, yet again. Seems the shower is not the answer I was hoping for as well. He did not like the shower one bit. His aversion to the night-time ritual can be traced back about 3 or 4 weeks ago. 3 or 4 weeks ago, I had a cut on my thumb on which I put a band-aid brand adhesive bandage. Little Man saw said Band-Aid and wanted one as well. It turns out that these Band-Aids were Sesame Street Band-Aids. We did not have any plain ones. Since then, my little boy has been demanding us to put “Elmos” on his arm.

Multiple “Elmos” are now his demand, and he has decided to forgo his bath for more “Elmos.” He only talks abnout his “Elmos” these days. I catch him staring at his “Elmos” all the time. Sometimes, I think he is talking to them. He doesn’t want to wear long sleeves, cause they cover up his “Elmos.” He sometimes stops in the middle of eating to attempt to get more “Elmos.” He really loves his “Elmos” …a bit too much.

It is an addiction, my little boy is addicted to “Elmos.” There I said it. My darling little boy is addicted to “Elmos.” He is trying everything he can to get his “Elmo” fix. He is badgering his caregivers for “Elmos.” He is only a few steps away from stealing from the house to fund his “Elmo” addiction. Then he will be saying his ABC’s up to J on the street to anyone who will listen for an “Elmo” fix… counting to 7. He is only a few steps away from being an “Elmo” whore. It He is getting pretty desperate for a fix. The big question I have though is, “How do you have an intervention for a 2 year old.” The other question I have is, “What are the withdrawal symptoms for an ‘Elmos’ addiction.” Will he need hospitalization? During withdrawal will he be a threat to himself and those that love him. I am truly concerned.

To Recap:
Wifey is not feeling well
Get well soon
G-Money is coming to visit
It is good that he likes to eat, for we will have food
My parents will still be coming for Fowl Holiday ‘05
Little Man has a problem
It is a problem with “Elmos”
Terrible 2’s are upon us

6 mol HCl

I feel that I have something that needs to be said, and I am going to get it off my chest now.

During a conversation I was having yesterday with someone via email, the topic of the Parisian Riots came up, and it is my fervent belief that someone needs to teach the French how to riot. You Guys (get it? Guy is a French name) have been rioting for over 13 days, and there has only been 1 casualty (I think) and only about 2500 cars torched. Here in America we can get 3 people killed, at least 500 cars torched, 2 housefires, a couple impromptu bon fires, and rampant looting if the Pistons win a game… or lose a game for that matter. For example, when OSU (excuse me The OSU) plays Michigan at Michigan and loses, there are 10 cars burned in Columbus and 3 stores get looted. Conversely, when OSU (excuse me The OSU) plays Michigan at Michigan and wins, there are 10 cars burned in Columbus and 3 cars get looted. I am just saying that if you are going to have a riot due to wealth disparity and racial disharmony it should be more sensational. You guys would never hack it in the US. Hell, we have even had riots in Central Ohio because people thought they “had the right to riot.” Sure, sure they were drunk, but that is beside the point.

The point is you Guys have a good record of strong and flashpoint rioting, this latest attempt just seems to fall flat. It has been pushed off the news shows and news sites by 2 Democrats getting elected governor. I mean, come on, you stormed the Bastille for Christ sakes. You overthrew a government and created the Reign of Terror (not to be confused with Reign of Fire, no one claims to have made that, eeewww), installed a quasi government, overthrew that, and made a short guy an emperor, all basically through your well honed skill of rioting. I just do not see this kind of culmination from your current riots.

I do have to give you Guys some props for the longevity of the riots. 13 days is pretty impressive, even with the relatively small amount of reported looting. Over here, we usually riot and loot a night or 2 and then go home. Not you guys, you guys are in it for the long haul. Maybe that is part of the difference, you guys are rioting to make a point, and we, generally, just like to bust some shit up and then burn it. It is one of our forms of urban renewal. I know, I know, you are going to mention the LA riots of the Rodney King/OJ Simpson Era known as the 90’s. Those were racially motivated and full of righteous racial anger. Well, the Rodney King riots were righteous racial anger, OJ got off and there were riots., not so righteous.

Back to news from home... Little Man is doing well, he ate nine chicken breast tenders last night for dinner, and then we had a big fight about the bath. It seems that Wifey and I felt he needed to get clean and he felt like the bath water was an aqueous solution of 6 mol HCl. It burns! It BURNS! Maybe we will try a shower tonight.

To Recap:
French riots have been a turning point in European history in the past
I do not see these riots having the same impact
OSU + Michigan = burned cars near campus
Reign of Fire was a horrible movie, but not quite bad enough to make it good

Watch out you might get what you're after
Cool baby strange but not a stranger
I'm an ordinary guy
Burning down the house

Hold tight wait 'til the party's over
Hold tight we're in for nasty weather
There has got to be a way
Burning down the house

Here's your ticket pack your bag; time for jumpin' overboard
Transportation is here
Close enough but not too far, baby you know where you are
Fightin' fire with fire

All wet hey you might need a raincoat
Shakedown thieves walking in broad daylight
Three hundred sixty five degrees
Burning down the house

It was once upon a place sometimes I listen to myself
Gonna come in first place
People on their way to work say baby what did you expect
Gonna burst into flame
Go ahead

My house S'out of the ordinary
That's right Don't want to hurt nobody
Some things sure can sweep me off my feet
Burning down the house

No visible means of support and you have not seen nothing yet
Everything's stuck togetherI don't know what you expect staring into the TV set
Fighting fire with fire

Burning down the house
Burning down the house
Burning down the house

2 Dimensional

The only 2 dimensional natural phenomenon known to man is the rainbow. We just got our parking lot soaked by a torrential downpour that lasted all of 15 minutes only to witness a complete rainbow to the north of our fine building. Rainbows really are interesting things. They truly are completely one sided affairs. Anyone to the north of us, looking south would not have seen the rainbow. Truly a wonder.

No leprechauns to be found though. Even though I work near Dublin, Ohio, the wee folk do not seem to tread here... and everyone knows I have been looking. A pot of gold would be the perfect way for me to unshackle myself from the oppression of being employed. Don’t get me wrong, without the means to provide for the fam, I would rather have a job than not have one, and this job, as far as jobs go, is a good one. Employed and comfortable is much better than un-employed and destitute. The issue is that this is still a job, and, if I had my druthers, I would much rather not work due to the whole, it being more fun to play aspect of life. But alas and alack pushing a mouse around on a table all day clicking here and there and watching blue progress bars slowly crawl across my screen, those tasks are my yoke of oppression.

Yes, woe unto me.

As a follow up to yesterday, may parents in their infinite wisdom have figured out a way to piss off both their kids in one fell swoop. They have decided to stay in Cincinnati instead of Columbus for the Fowl Holiday ’05 (as it shall be known from now on…). Let me remind you, kind reader, that this is the same brother and sister-in-law that will be moving about 1 week after Fowl Holiday ’05. So during the holidays, when they would most likely be packing up their crap, getting ready for a move, my parent’s have decided to impose themselves as guests. Well, if one kid can’t be happy, then they both can’t, dammit! If we ever have 2 little buggers, this is definitely a philosophy I will try to live by. I know that growing up it was a practice of my parents, so it does not really surprise me now.

So, now it looks like Chez SRH will be an insane madhouse for about 7 hours on Fowl Holiday ’05, but then calm down considerably. So that is good. While my parents have interposed themselves on us for a meal, they have tied up my brother’s family for a holiday weekend. I have to keep in mind that it could always be worse. I could be in my brother’s shoes at the moment. I thank the powers that be, once again that I am not he.

Sorry about the rhyme. Now that i look back on it, it was definitely a literary mistake. Heroic couplets at the end of blogs don't work like they did for Big Willy (no the other Big Willy) at the end of an act.


To Recap:
Rainbows have height and width, but no depth
Pirates in Somalia?!?
Are they just doping their part to impede global warming?
I just think it is neat that they used sound as a deterrent
A bird in the hand is worth a bird in the hand, and that is about it
Why do you have a bird in your hand?

But, you weren't invited

So I get this call Saturday evening. It is a call we in Casa del SRH dread every 2 weeks or so. It was a call from my parents. The big reason for not enjoying the talks with the ‘rents id our vastly different socio-political ideation. That ideation difference coupled with the relative difference in our emotional health as well. Our differring levels of denial seem to get in the way as well. My level is not even remotely on the same scale as theirs. Mine level of denial, compared to theirs is arithmetic while theirs is logarithmic. We are talking scales of magnitude here.

Anyway… the conversation is going fine. Blah Blah blah substitute teaching 2 times this week, blah blah blah Civitan’s park needs cleaned blah blah blah when do you want us up there for Thanksgiving?

WHAAAAAA?

Okay, let me replay this in my head.

Mom: I had to substitute teach twice this week so I was pretty tired by Friday.
Me: Uh-huh, I had 40 hours in by Thursday morning at 10, which was lucky since I had to go home then.
Mom: Those 2 days were really tiring. They are not allowing substitutes to leave until 3:30 now.
Dad: The Civitan Park needed some cleaning this weekend.
Me: Really, I seem to remember that it needed cleaning every weekend.
Mom: So when do you want us there for Thanksgiving?

Yep, that was the actual question. My brain is reeling now. I forget to turn on my filter and say the first response that comes to my head. Not so much a response as a kick to my parent’s collective gut.

Me: But you weren’t invited.

I followed up hastily but not quickly enough since the damage had already been done

Me: … but we would love to have you up, we just were not expecting you.

Okay this is a wrench in the plans. You see, one of my best friends just shelled out 700 bucks to come and visit for the long weekend. Yep 700 smackers, and he doesn’t really like my fam that much. This is not at all expected or desired. On top of G-Money dropping by for some turkey, we also have invited a good number of local people. Most of these invites have not responded definitively, as of yet, either, but if everyone says “yes” we already have a house of 10 plus 2 kids under 4 and an infant.

Me: I thought you 2 were heading to Florida for Thanksgiving
Mom: No we go to Florida for Christmas, by the way, can [Brother]* and [Brother’s Wife]* come too?
Me: We are quickly running out of room in the house for everyone to be here. We have already invited 10+ people to this meal without adding you guys or [Brother] and [Brother’s Wife] . I am sure that [Brother] and [Brother’s Wife] will want to bring the nephews, right? That means we are up to 16 plus the 2 kids under 4 and an infant. That is a bunch of folk.
Mom: Yes, but [Brother] and [Brother’s Wife] have no where else to go and they will be moving to Virginia Beach in a month so they will be packing then… sob story sob story sob story…

Well, the conversation kinda petered out near the end. Well, actually I have stopped transcribing the conversation, because by this time I was disassociating and Wifey had to take over. She seemed to be doing well with the ‘rents but later they blew through one of the boundaries that she set up. That pissed her off real good.

So that was my weekend’s fun.

Also, since the Orapred was building up in Little Man’s system, and that kind of steroid tends to make people eat a bunch I though I would list what he ate from Friday to Sunday night (his last dose was Sunday morning).

Near as I can reacall over the 3 day span:

1 ½ packs of Quaker instant oatmeal
A cereal bowl of sliced strawberries
A kid’s bowl of cereal
8 Sloppy joes, (mmmm Manwich)
2 Burger King Hamburgers
1 medium and a half sized onion rings from Burger King
1 kid’s bowl of corn
18 Tyson Chicken Beast Tenders (they are not the full size chicken fingers)
A peach fruit cup
4 heaping bowls of pasta and spaghetti sauce
And one bowl of Wendy’s chili

Last night he couldn’t get to sleep very well, it seems his belly was hurting somewhat.

To recap:

They weren’t invited
I couldn’t turn them away
My Thanksgiving will be very popular
At this rate, people will be sitting on the porch for the meal.
Twasn’t a [Little] Man, Twas an eatin’ machine



* Names withheld to protect the innocent

home at 10

What to say. We love the people who watch our kid for free. More importantly, Little Man loves them like the Dickens as well. ( I am not sure what “love them like the Dickens” means, I abhorred reading Dickens in school, so I hope that is not how he loves them, anyway…) They love Little Man like he is their own grandkid. They forgot a bout a medical procedure happening today that involves them not being able to watch Little Man for us. I swear I am going to cut their pay in half if they continue this crap.

So, not much else going on for the day. I am just here at work trying to tie up some loose ends before trekking out of here at 10 this morning. Now, before all of you get all envious about my ability to go “play” with my kid instead of working, remember this child is on Orapred. Orapred makes kids cranky and easily tired and frustrated, but oddly un-able to sleep and function normally. He will scream as loud as he can if we try to play the DVD instead of just watching the menu screen. Yesterday after I got home with little man we “watched” the splash screen for “Bear in the Big Blue House” for 45 minutes. It was truly mind numbing. 2 minute loops of music with a whole 5 different corner images that changed on the screen. Every time Bear showed up in the lower right corner of the screen, Little Man would ask, “Bear?” I would respond with, “Yes, that is Bear.” It was sweet in a sort of repetitious poke-my-eyes-out-oh-God-when-will-this-end sort of way.

We are going to try moving Little Man into the “Big Boy Bed” this weekend. Not sure he will be too receptive to the idea, but we have to try. Again, I have to say that it was never our intention to have a family bed, but the allergies made it that way. Damn you allergies! DAMN YOU TO HELL!!!

To recap:
I am out of here at 10
Deal with it
How does one forget a colonoscopy?
I would think that would be something etched in my mind for years
I will be with insane Little Man all day
and all day tomorrow
Wifey is going out of town tonight and coming back tomorrow afternoon
I do not know how Wifey did it on Monday and Tuesday
I guess I will find out
She really is amazing
Saturday we lose the guest bed, but, hopefully, gain a measure of sleeping independence

One sock too many... or too few?

So Wifey thinks that wearing only one sock at night is a definite sign of insanity, much like wearing a boot on one’s head. I, however, disagree. I disagree vehemently. Although it’s totally okay behavior, I’m not into the one sock thing. I swear. It is just that there can sometimes be some…. circumstances, yes, circumstances where one sock is not only not crazy, but absolutely necessary.

Hypothetically speaking of course, here might be an actual instance where wearing only one sock could, nay, should be okay. Say it is time for the evening ritual with a child. Food has already been eaten, the screeching at bath time is done, and the little one is nestled nicely in his momma’s arms while she rocks him to sleep. Unfortunately, this particular momma is rocking this particular little one in a chair that is about 1 and a half inches too tall for her “rocking foot” to hit the floor comfortably. So, Papa, whilst reading aloud to lull the little one to sleep with his droning monotone narration, decides to let Momma use his sore achy ankle as a push off point for her gentle rocking of their progeny. Now in this particular hypothetical situation, the quaint family setting happens to be in the little one’s bedroom which happens to have hardwood floors. Papa’s besocked ankle is not able to stay in one spot whilst Momma pushes gently on his aching ankle to rock their little one into his sweet slumber. This hypothetical papa, ever the problem solver, decides that the easiest thing to do is to remove the sock on the rocking prop so the natural grippiness of his heel can keep his achy ankle from sliding all over the place.

Fast forward a hypothetical 45 minutes. The little one who at this particular moment might be on some medication, hypothetically speaking, of course, for his asthma and therefore finds it much more difficult to fall asleep, finally drifts off to the dreamworld. Momma and Papa get their little one into bed and head downstairs to finish getting ready for the following day. In the substantial time since removing the super slippery sock to the time when Momma and Papa are venturing downstairs to finish up the chores necessary for the morrow, Papa, hypothetically speaking, of course, might forget that he is wearing only one sock. That is until the papa from this hypothetical situation steps on the cold cold tile of their hypothetical kitchen. This is when Wifey, err… the momma in this hypothetical situation would make fun of the papa and his achy un-socked ankle and foot.

So in that situation, Wifey, you can see that it is not crazy to have only one sock on, but, instead is altruistic and loving. Not crazy. Not crazy at all. See, not crazy.

To Recap:
Not crazy
Altruistically loving, not crazy… mumble, mumble
More on socks…. I am not sure why Little Man likes to wear his sandals with socks
At least they are not black socks
What is the point of toe-socks?
What would you do for a Klondike bar?

Riding on the range,
I've got my hat - on,
I've got my boots - dusty.

I've got my saddle
On my horse.
He's called....T-t-t-t-t-trigger
Of course.

I wanna be a cowboy
and you can be my cowgirl
I wanna be a cowboy
and you can be my cowgirl
I wanna be a cowboy

Wearing his skin gives his power

So for Halloween this year we tracked, killed, and skinned Elmo. All of that effort was so Little Man could wear his pelt and take his powers. Much like a silky off the coast of Ireland and the seal suits they wear. Unfortunately, we did all this within sight of Little Man, and he did not want to take part in the barbaric ritual; of wearing dead foes as clothing. He just is too young to truly appreciate ritual yet.

Thanks to all the well-wishers yesterday for the Blogaversary. It was truly a stunning lack of real occasion. I had more hits yesterday than I have in a single day ever. So thanks very much for all the attendance to the party, as it were.

For all those wondering, Little Man is doing well. He is cranky due to the hunger, thirst, and lack of sleep brought on by the Orapred, but he is breathing. So, we at least have that going for us. He did not participate in the Halloween festivities. His lack of participation was two-fold. Firstly, he is allergic to all major candy types since most are made with yummy creamy butter or other ingredients that he cannot have. MMM Butter. Secondly, as I mentioned above, he really was not all that keen on wearing Elmo’s discarded corpse. He was darn cute in it though, even though we had to fight him like he was a crazed banshee to put the thing on. He is a mighty struggler, that one. He stayed on the porch some while other kids in costume came up and gathered candy from our basket. Then he went inside and ran around naked for a while before his bath.

Of course this is all hearsay, because I did not get out of the office until 8:30 last night. Somebody higher up in the food chain at work forgot to mention a meeting that was going on Wednesday that needed stuff done by yours truly and my intrepid staff of cartographers. So, last night and this morning has been a mad scramble. I am tired and without change enough for a Mt Dew from the vending machine. Bottom line, I needs me some caffeine, or somes people gonna die.

I just realized that the Haiku I wrote in my comments from the last post was not a true Haiku. It seems that my second line is 8 syllables instead of 7. That is why I have a Poet Laureate of Under Construction instead of filling the post myself.

To recap:
I guess I am more popular than I thought
I am more cranky than I should be
My filter, the one that keeps me from saying things I should not at work, seems to be faltering
I think this has something to do with the lack of caffeine in my system
Little Man is doing better
I am not sure if killing Elmo and draping his carcass over my son was a good thing
Mainly because what power does Elmo really have… I mean come on, really