Merry Christmas

 

 

 

 

Click the Year for the Previous Christmas Cards 2009, 2010 and 2011

Trophy

"Jackson put gum up his nose." Lauren said as she entered the house.

She was returning home from, what was clear to me, a frustrating trip to the store with the three boys.  I have a sixth sense for these things. I can sense, well it is not really sense but more of just know, that anytime you try to take three boys to a store it will be frustrating. I also can tell the level of frustration based on how Lauren enters the house. When the first words out of her mouth are one of the kid's names or the phrase "You will not believe what THIS one did" it usually is not a good trip.

"Did you get it out?" I asked from my reclined spot on the couch. I lowered the volume of the football game that was on the TV. My Sunday afternoon plans were to lay on the couch, eat chips, drink a couple of beers and watch football.

"No. I was driving when he did it." She said. "He says it came out and he swallowed it."

Wyatt bounded into the room. "Dad, Jackson put gum up his nose."

 "I told him not to do it." Max said as he followed Wyatt.

"I heard. What kind on gum was it?" I asked hoping to get an answer from Lauren.

"Just gum, Dad." Wyatt answered.

"What difference does it make?" Lauren asked.

"Well, if it is a Chick-let type of gum, it would be small and could really get up there. But if it is a big piece of Bubble Yum, or something I should be able to see it."

I called Jackson over, leaned him backwards over my lap, and looked up his nose. I could see a very small white blob of snotty gum jammed way up into his right nostril. I was afraid that the gum might make its way through the nasal passage and to his throat, which could cause him to choke. It looked bad and I knew we needed to get it out.

The football game, the chips, the beer and the laying on the couch would have to wait.

The gum was lodged too far up for his fingers to be able to reach it. We made many failed attempts at trying get him to blow his nose. I tried snatch it a few times with a standard pair of tweezers but between fidgeting, screams and tears I could not get the gum out.

Our neighbor, Lisa, is a nurse (I like to think of her as Jackson's personal ER consultant) Lauren called Lisa to see if she had a larger/longer pair of tweezers. Lisa  did not have larger tweezers but she came down to take a look up Jackson's nose. She agreed that the gum needed to be extracted. Lisa called Amy, who is also a nurse, to see if she had larger tweezers. Amy did not have the tweezers but she was in the area and so she stopped by to look up Jackson's nose. Everyone agreed that Jackson would need to go to the ER to have the gum removed.

The football game was already half over. After looking up Jackson's nose so many times the chips and beer lost their appeal. Laying on the couch would have to wait.

Lisa agreed to take the older boys to her house so Lauren and I could take Jack to the ER.

We got into the car and started the 20 minute drive to the hospital. I was feeling kind of annoyed at the whole situation.  Gum up the nose is not a priority in a hospital. I knew, that even on a slow day we would be waiting for a really long time. I also knew that they would probably have to strap Jackson down, a scenario I did not want to witness, so they could get gum out.

I looked into the rear view mirror at Jackson who was feeling a bit frightened at the idea of going to the hospital. He looked worn out. Lauren was upset with the whole ordeal. I started talking to both Jackson and Lauren hoping to take every ones mind off of the ER visit, besides I needed to vent a bit.

"Jack, this is why you do not put gum in your nose. We now have to take you to the hospital. Hon, you should make sure we have our insurance card. They won't hurt you Jax, but it will be scary. Are you going to put gum up you nose again? Are you? I know you didn't mean to get the gum stuck but if you don't put it there in the first place, it will never get stuck. Do we have enough money in the checking account for the co-pay? I think the co-pay is a 100 bucks. Jackson, one small piece of gum is going to cost me at least a hundred dollars. Do you know how many trains a hundred dollars could buy? I can't believe a stupid piece of gum is going to cost us 100 bucks. That's a lot of trains. You know Jax, if you could get that gum out of your nose before we get to the hospital I would give you money to a buy a train. I won't give him a a hundred dollars but I would sure as hell buy him a train. We could go right to the toy store right now if that gum comes out."

"A Thomas train?" Jackson asked. He suddenly perked up.

"What ever train you want pal."

What happened in the back seat is kind of hard to describe. There was grunting, snorting, hocking, huffing, puffing, sniffing, slurping, blowing and all kinds of other noises. Lauren and I could not believe he was working so hard at getting the gum out.  I pulled the car over so Lauren could get in the back seat to help him. She held his unobstructed nostril as Jack blew. Within a minute or two a long piece of snot covered chewing gum was dangling from his nose. Lauren, with only a deft move a mother could pull off, used her nails to remove the rest of the gum.

We cheered. We clapped and congratulated Jackson. Yes, we cheered for a three-year-old's ability to blow gum out of his nose.

We went directly to the toy store and bought a Thomas train as trophy for his accomplishment.

Growth

I know this may come as a surprise, as it did to me, but these little people in my house, the small, sometimes extremely loud, extremely smelly ones actually grow. I should know this. I have pencil marks, lines with dates and names smudged next to them, on my wall in the hallway near the laundry room documenting their growth. I watch them, everyday, shove gobs and gobs of food down their mouths in order to fuel their growth. Every time I dress them I notice that the space between the hem of their pants and the top of their shoes gets a bit wider.

They grow. I should know this. The smallest of the three little people in my house seems to growing at a faster rate that the bigger two. I should have realized this when he was able to take the eggs out of the fridge and throw them one by one onto the floor. I should have known he was getting bigger when he went into the knife drawer and brought me all of the sharp steak knives and the pair of scissors that he found. You would think I would have noticed him growing when he was able to reach the top of the stove in an effort to grab the boiling pot of water. But I missed all of those signs. I knew he was growing but for some reason I kept forgetting.

The sign of his growth that I did not miss happened a couple of weeks ago.

Early one morning my wife Lauren went out for a run. She left me in charge of the growing little people. I was folding laundry and preparing breakfast (multi tasking) when the littlest small person, Jackson, went up to his room to play with his cars. After a few minutes of silence (cars crashing is not a quiet game)  I knew I had to go check on him. As I approached his door, he slammed it closed and yelled, "No!", which is not a good sign.

I opened the door and the first thing I saw was a small puddle of pink syrup on the floor. Laying next to the puddle was an empty bottle of Benadryl. I looked at Jackson and noticed pink syrup dripping from his lip and running down his shirt.  I asked him if he drank the Benadryl and he said that he did. When I asked how much did he drink he said "A lot." I did not know how much medicine was in the bottle to begin with so I went into a bit of a panic. More of a panic then the time when a three-year-old Wyatt drank almost a full beer. Panics at 6:30 in the morning move a lot slower than afternoon panics.

I made a few attempts to stick my finger down Jackson's throat hoping to get him to vomit. I forgot that these little people also grow teeth, sharp little teeth. He did not vomit. I texted my neighbor, who is a nurse and asked her for advice. While I waited for her to respond I called Poison Control.  They were very helpful in determining how much Benadryl would be dangerous to Jack but we did not know how much he ingested. I was on the phone with Poison Control when Lauren got back from her run.

I hate when these things happen on my watch.

Let me just say this, if you were to return home to your kids at 6:55 AM and your husband was on the phone with Poison Control, there is no way you would react the way that Lauren did. She was calm, cool, and collected. She listened with patience as I told her all that had happened. She only gave me the "you are an idiot" eye-roll once. Okay maybe twice. The nurse neighbor showed up a few minutes later and gave me the "you are an idiot" eye-roll several times. She checked Jackson's vitals and made us feel better. We observed Jackson for the next two hours and finally relaxed when we knew he was going to be okay.

In trying to figure out how Jackson could have gotten the bottle of Benadryl, we realized that we kept the bottle on the middle shelf in the hall closet. Three months ago Jackson was not tall enough to reach the middle shelf, now he is.

That is how I realized these little people grow.

Jackson turns three tomorrow. I want to congratulate myself on not messing him up completely as of yet. I want to congratulate my wife for not killing me, as of yet.

Happy Birthday Jackson Grey, don't grow too fast.

Social Security

The Social Security Administration lists the name Jackson at #42, Wyatt  at # 84 and Maxwell (Maxwell was the first name even close to Maxfield)  at # 134 and just Max at # 148 of top boy names for the 2000's decade. The SSA lists the name Henry at #102.

Last weekend Lauren, Max, Wyatt, Jackson and myself went to a Camden River Sharks minor league baseball game with some friends of ours, including their 9 year old son Henry (who is also my Godson). The game was not sold out and our two families spread out over two rows of seats along the third base line.  As is typical for any type of event like this there is always some type of parenting in public (PIP) that involves the repetitive use of the children's names and at an above-normal volume.

"Max, let those people through."
"Max do you have to go to the bathroom?"
"Max, do you want a hot dog or a burger? Max? Max? Hot dog or Burger? Max are you listening?'
"Max, stop hitting your brother."
"Max do you have to go to the bathroom?"
"Max, sit down so the people behind you can see."
"Max do you need to use the bathroom now?"
"Max, stop... feet...the chair... front of you." You know because sometimes as a parent you just cannot form a proper sentence.
"Max, can you please keep an eye on your brother."
"Max, I am going to the bathroom, do you need to go?"

It was the bottom of the third inning, I was leaning back to ask my friend in the row behind us a question when I heard the woman in the row in front of me say "Max, you really need to stop doing that."

I snapped my head around.  First I wanted to see what Max was doing that required a total stranger to correct him and second, to see who was the person that was correcting my kid. Max was sitting quietly eating his fruit snacks. I realized that the lady in front of me was talking to a 4 year old little boy sitting beside her also named Max. I chatted with the lady and her son for a minute or two and we chuckled at the name coincidence. I mean if the kids were named Mike, or Jim, or Jacob, or Matthew I would get it. But two Maxs so close together was weird and cool. I then felt sorry for the little boy, figuring he probably was freaked out thinking that the guy behind him kept asking him if he had to go to the bathroom.

I told my friend behind me that there were two Maxs. He and his wife laughed. They just had the same kind of conversation with people in the row behind them who also had a son Henry.

The next day my family was at a birthday party for one of Max's friends. The adults at the party consisted of a mix of parents of kids from different aspects of the birthday boy's life, like from swimming or school or neighbors. All of the parent's kind of knew each other or knew of one another but rarely interacted with each outside the common bonds of the birthday boy and his family.  It is these types of parties where people may or may not be introduced with an indicator of where they are from. A point of reference for each other  in the social situation. The point of reference that provides a bit of security during conversations, you don't feel like you are talking to strangers. This point of reference sometimes becomes a last name.  Like "Bill, this is Diane Fromthepool. Diane this is Bill FromLittleLeague." Or "Lauren this Alexa Christian'sMom. Alexa this Lauren Wyatt'sMom."

We all chatted in the kitchen as the kids ran around playing. I positioned my self in a perfect spot in the kitchen, near the food and drinks, with a view of  the TV (Phillies game) in the family room to my right, and to my left a view of the dining room table (kids eating).

To my right, with a view of the family room was Diane Fromthepool. To my left was Lauren, Amy Fromaroundthestreet, and Janine Afamilyfriend. The host and her husband fluttered in an out preparing food and what not. At some point I was introduced to Janine's 4 year old son Nicholas. I made a mental note that Diane's son was also named Nick or Nicholas. Nicholas is the 14th spot the SSA top names for the 2000's which makes it more common for there to be a couple of Nicks together at the same party.  We all made small talk trying to get to know one another with out embarrassing ourselves, or in my case embarrassing my wife.

Janine's Nick, somewhat shy and not familiar with most of the other kids, needed the security of his mom in the social setting and hung out in the kitchen for a while. He eventually discovered that there was a dog in the family room and he went in to pet and play with the dog. At some point Diane's Nick also went into the family room to play with the dog. There was a commotion, laughing followed by growling, followed by a small ruckus.

Diane, had the best view of the situation. Her eyes went wide. She tried to say something but sometimes as a parent you just cannot form a proper sentence and she hollered, "Nick! Come!"

To my right Janine's jaw dropped and her head snapped around towards Diane. I am sure first to see what her Nick was doing that required a total stranger to correct her kid and second to see who it was  that was correcting her kid. The kitchen fell silent. There was an awkward moment. Janine's face was full of shock and surprise. Diane turned toward the rest of us shaking her head in that way a parent does to silently communicate to other parent's What can you do? Diane saw the look on Janine's face and realized that Janine thought Diane was barking at her kid. Diane's face turned red as she tried to explain she was yelling at her Nick.

The two Nicks entered the kitchen. The older one with his head down knowing he was in trouble, the younger one seeking the security of his mom because some strange lady was yelling at him.

Parenting in Public is often entertaining.
I laughed for a good five minutes.

Zone Defense

When Maxfield, my oldest, was a toddler my wife Lauren and I had it pretty easy. Max was an only child. We played double coverage defense most of the time. We both took care of all the parenting duties, assisting each other and both staying on top of the energy filled 2 year old.  We always knew that we could go man-to-man to give the other person a break. We could sub in and out on an as needed basis.

When Wyatt, the middle child, was a toddler, Max was four.  Lauren and I learned very quickly how to play a man-to-man defense without subs. Divide and conquer,one on one would keep the kids in line. Occasionally one of us had something to do, a night out or traveling for work and we were forced into a zone style defense staying on top of the all the activities, moves and jukes of two little kids. Chaotic but doable.

Jackson, our third boy,  the youngest, is now (as of July 6th) officially two and half. Lauren and I are outnumbered. We are constantly in a zone defense and most days feel like the kids are playing a full court press. Jackson has studied under the tutelage of his older brothers and has learned a thing or two about the terrible twos. He is independent, sharp and quick tempered when things do not go his way. He is also extremely cute with a good sense of humor and has learned to head fake, dodge and a fast break against the defenders more often than his teammates ever did.

Jackson is becoming more and more acquainted with the Time Out Chair. I am not saying that Jackson is trouble I just think he takes advantage of our zone defense. We can't play man to man, we are outnumbered. Jax knows we are tired. He knows we can't cover everyone all the time. He knows that every now and then his dad needs to sit on the bench for a breather and that there is no sub coming in to cover him.

Happy 2 1/2 Jackson Grey.

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Huggies has asked me to let my readers know about their new promotion for their Jean Diapers. To celebrate the return of the Jeans Diaper and Every Little Bottom, Huggies encourages parents to “Dress ‘em cute for a cause” and show-off pictures of their little one rocking the Jeans Diaper on Huggies.com. For every photo uploaded and every photo “liked” Huggies will donate diapers to Every Little Bottom to help babies in need.

Huggies has offered me a "Fashion For Good" kit to give away to one of my readers. The fashion kit includes a Huggies product coupon , a limited-edition Huggies Jeans wipes, An Old Navy button-down dress or shirt for a baby (to go with the styling jeans diapers) and an Old Navy tote bag. For a chance to win the fashion kit leave a comment telling me where or what you are doing for summer vacation this year. I will randomly pick one comment to win the fashion pack. Please make sure you leave a valid email address.


Check out Huggies Facebook page and follow them on twitter @Huggies. Huggies and thier PR company are good people.

Full disclosure- I was NOT paid by Huggies to post this post. I just think that the Every Little Bottom program is a good cause to support.
Huggies® provided me with the “Fashion for Good” kit to conduct a reader giveaway. However, my opinions on the product are entirely my own and I have not been paid to publish positive sentiments towards Huggies® or their products.”



ROY G. BIV

Over the years people have asked me what I like best about blogging. Sometimes I like the community and social aspects that blogging has exposed me to. Sometimes I like just having a forum to write and practice telling stories. Other days the best part of blogging is the feedback left by others. Whether they be negative or positive comments it is always nice to know there is an audience from what I write.

Lately my favorite part about blogging is having the ability, pretty much from anywhere I have Internet access, to look at the past six years of my life.  Every now and then I like to go through the archives and look at lucky I am to have such a colorful life.

This picture was taken in August of 2008. A rainbow over our neighbors the Jones' house. Lauren was pregnant with Jackson, Wyatt just a toddler, and Maxfield is waist high. Life was good.

This picture was taken last week. My family standing in the Jones' driveway under a rainbow. Jackson is now the toddler, Wyatt is about to go into kindergarten and Maxfield is chest high.

Life is still good.

Features

Sometimes I look at Jackson, the youngest, and I cannot figure out who he looks like. More often than not I do not see either Lauren or myself in his features.

Other times though, I totally see it.

Jackson Turns 2

Two years ago, my wife woke me up with the words, "Bill, I either just peed my pants or my water just broke."

14 hours or so later this little cute guy was born.

Except he was not as cute then as he is now.
And he was not as much trouble then as he is now. That is a 32 ounces of shredded cheese he dumped on the family room floor.

And he was not as silly then as he is now.

Or as loveable or as cuddly or as smart or as awesome or as, well, you get the picture.

Happy Birthday Jackson.

Autumn

Autumn is my favorite time of year. The crisp air, falling leaves, Halloween, Thanksgiving, back to school, Football season, Sam Adams Octoberfest on the shelves, new TV shows, the list goes on and on. This year I thought I was going to be able to add Soccer to the list of good things about Fall.

This Fall was the first Fall where our family was involved in Soccer. Both Maxfield and Wyatt joined soccer teams this year with mixed results.

Max did not play last year because he was still healing from his broken Femur so he was a bit behind the abilities and knowledge of the other players in his 6 and 7 year old league. A few games into the season the nature of the game finally clicked with him and he did pretty well. He loved to play goalie and actually played that position for at least a quarter of every game. The last day of the season, during a tournament game, he let up two goals. His emotions got the best of him, his eyes filled with tears as he declared at the top of his lungs "I am the worst goalie ever." My heart broke. Soccer is not being added to my list of Fall favorites yet.

Wyatt's approach to Soccer was to show up at games and watch from the sidelines. Wyatt would join his team at half time to eat Orange slices and then go back to sitting out the rest of the game. He refused to play in half of his games and getting him dressed and out the door became a 45 minute chore every Saturday morning. Soccer is not being added to my list of why I love fall.

Although without Soccer there would not be Soccer babies, who are so darn cute.

Also without Soccer there would not be Soccer Mom's who are so damn hot.

Funny story:

Dick's Sporting Good's was one of the sponsors of Max's league. Each child received a water bottle with the Dick's logo (as you can see in the picture). Every Saturday morning Lauren and I would get the kids dressed for the games, pack various snacks and lunches, and load up the van to spend the day at the fields. One morning I was in the living room getting Wyatt dressed and Lauren was filling the various water bottles for the kids and some for us. I could hear her getting frustrated as she kept banging something on the counter.

"What's wrong?" I called out into the kitchen as I was struggling with Wyatt, attempting to put on his shin pads.

"Nothing." she said in a tone that I could tell she was gritting her teeth. She banged something against the counter.

"Are you sure?"

"Arrrgh." Lauren growled in frustration. " I am having such a hard time with this Dick's top."

After five minutes of me trying to compose myself Wyatt finally asked, "Daddy, what is so funny?"

This is our annual fall photo. This was much easier to take than last year's photo.

Pitch

Last month I attended the BlogHer Voices of the Year Gala and Art show that was held one night of the BlogHer conference. The art work (a photo by Karen Walrond also known as Chookooloonks ) that was paired with my writing is here and up for auction here.

While I was at the conference I walked the expo floor, checking out all the various vendors who were there in an effort to pitch their products to bloggers. There is some debate throughout the blogosphere regarding bloggers and companies working together in an advertising/reviewer type of capacity, pay vs. no pay, adv-itorial vs. actual review, good pitches vs. bad pitches. It gets so screwy that the FCC is involved.

All of the companies that had booths at BlogHer, as far as I see, support the medium of blogging. They paid for their booth space, which in turns supports BlogHer, which in turn supports the individual blogger. In an effort to show my good faith to those companies that support the medium of blogging I decided to review a couple of the items I received while at the conference.
I have not been compensated financially in any way. I just feel compelled to support those that try to support bloggers.

Playskool and their PR people did an excellent job of showcasing their PlayDoh, Mr. Potato and Tonka lines but the coolest thing I saw at their booth was their line of Weebles. I loved Weebles when I was a kid and I totally forgot how fun they can be until I saw them at the conference. I told the Playskool people that my son, Maxfield, had just built a "weeble" using PVC piping and weights while he was at a day camp. The people at the Playskool booth were nice enough to give me a two-pack of Weebles for me to bring home to show Max what a real Weeble looked like. My kids loved them. They still love them. Jackson, being 19 months old, is the perfect age for Weebles. They fit his hands perfectly and he enjoys the fact that they don't fall down. He also enjoys throwing them across the room at his older brothers.

The great and deep thinker Jack Handy once wrote, "I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex.”

That right there pretty much sums up my thoughts on the whole Green Movement. I am all for doing what is right by the environment. I recycle. I believe that people should use renewable/sustainable products but whenever I see something that is supposedly better for the environment I can't help but be somewhat skeptical. The people of Scotch-Brite were handing out samples of their new line of "Greener Clean" scrub sponges. Looking at their website they use the description "a new line of effective cleaning products." By using the word effective it says to me that other people are also skeptical. I have no idea on what kind impact the scrub sponge will have on the environment but I will tell you that it works just as good as their other non-earth friendly scrub sponges. I have used it only a few times so I have no idea whether it will last just as long as a normal sponge. My only criticism is that it would not fit in my ears to dampen the sound of a four-year screaming that he will "NOT eat my DINNER no matter WHAT", over and over again, while I tried to do the dishes.

I appreciate the fact that both Playskool and Scotch-Brite support the medium of blogging.

I now plan to teach Jackson how to throw the sponge instead of the Weeble.

Beach Boys

Dear Internet,

I am sorry I have not been around for the past 10 days or so. We took the family to the beach for a vacation.

We went to Wildwood, Ocean City and Cape May. We ate ice cream, candy, hotdogs and fries. We went on walks and on log flumes and on rollercoasters and bumper boats. We went to the beach, the bay, the out door mall, the boardwalk and the ER. All in all it was a great vacation and everyone had a great time. Except for the trip to the ER. I don't think Jackson, Lauren or I enjoyed that part.




Jackson is okay. He had a bad fall. I am thinking of getting some T-shirts made up that say "I went to the Jersey Shore and all I got was an X-ray."

Decoy

I don’t know how it is for girls, but when changing the diaper on a little boy as soon as the diaper comes off they immediately reach for their penis. Read the rest of the post here Poop and Boogies Review

Point It Down

After Maxfield was born our friend Alyson gave us some parental advice. She already had a little boy and she knew a thing or two.

"Remember," Alyson said "when you change his diaper make sure you point it down."

She was not talking about pointing 'it' away from the direction you were standing but actually making sure that 'it' was actually pointed down in the diaper. By pointing 'it' down, we made sure that there were less leaks. All diapers have the absorbing material in the lower front to the back of them. No diapers make the "belt" area absorbent. If 'it' is pointed up, well, pee leaks right out the top of the diaper. Baby girls do not have this problem.

However, once boys get a little older, a little bit more mobile, keeping 'it' down becomes more difficult (and even more so when they hit their teens). Now that Jackson is walking and crawling and running and falling, keeping 'it' in the down position is somewhat of a crap shoot (pun totally intended since I am talking about diapers). Putting him down for a nap without checking to see if 'it' is down can result in an unscheduled load of laundry.

Our family has always used Huggies as our choice of diapers. Huggies is one of the few products we use where we feel that the name brand is important. We tried changing brands once before and it did not work out for us. Huggies for some reason always fit our boys the right way and kept 'it' down, which prevented leaks.

Last year Jackson was invited by Huggies to test their Little Movers line of diapers. My biggest concern about switching from the regular Huggies to the Little Movers was whether the Movers would have the same snug fit. Would they be able to keep 'it' down. Let me just say since going to New York last September we have not used any other kind of diaper on Jackson except the Little Movers. We have yet to have any kind of leak or accident with the Little Movers brand. I have actually stopped checking to make sure 'it' was down when I take him for his naps. The Little Movers work for our little mover no matter what part is moving.

Huggies recently came out with a new line of Little Movers Jeans diapers. They were nice enough to send me a package for Jackson to model. A few things that struck me about the dark blue denim-looking diapers--

1. I think they are cute.
2. They are exactly the same as the regular Little Movers.
3. The get lost in the dark pocket of a deep diaper bag. They blend with the shadows (like Nightcrawler from the X-Men).
4. Now women who make diaper cakes for baby showers, can actually make a blue diaper cake for boys.

And 5. Jackson is one handsome kid.

There has been some debate, over at the Huggies Face Book page, caused by the new Jean Diapers. People were surprised that some parents would let their kids walk around only wearing a diaper. As you can see from the pictures I have no problem with it. How do you feel about it, would you let you kid walk around only in a diaper? What do you think of the Little Mover Jean Diaper? Does that change your opinion?

Disclosure- I have partnered with Huggies Little Movers and their Ambassador program. I will be receiving compensation, product for my personal use as well as any reimbursement for reasonable expenses relating to the Ambassador program. However, my opinions are entirely my own and I have not been paid to publish positive sentiments towards Huggies products. Woo hoo, I got a sponsor Y'all.

Project Run-a-way

My wife Lauren has been busy making stuff for her Etsy shop. Every now and then she makes something that requires a model.

Now that Jackson is standing, walking and toddling he makes the perfect model. Although now that Jackson is standing, walking and toddling he will not hold still long enough to get a decent shot. He constantly runs away. For every 100 pictures we take only one will turn out usable. Thank God for digital cameras and the delete button.
Since Lauren makes a lot of girly things, Jackson is often modeling dresses and other "sugar and spice and everything nice" types of clothes.

Last September Jackson went to New York as part of a Huggies promotion. The great people at Huggies were nice enough to send us a pack of their new designer diapers, Little Movers Jeans. Diapers that look like Jeans, very cool idea.

So now here is a beefcake shot of Jackson modeling jeans.

Not really "snakes and snails and puppy dog tails" but I will take it.

First Steps

Jackson started walking last week. I love watching him trying to get control of his legs while he finds his balance and center of gravity. Every time he walks it is a new experience for him. He is amazed at what he is doing even if he has not grasped the concept completely.

Last fall Huggies invited Jackson to NY for their Little Movers promotion. At that time Jackson was not a mover at all. Well he is now. As my wife said, it is time to cover the house in bubble wrap.

Huggies was nice enough to send me some coupons for free diapers to give-away as a "Poop and Boogies turns 5 promotion". That's right, FREE jumbo pack of diapers, which is like 12 bucks, which to a parent with kids in diapers is like gold. I have 5 coupons (P&B turns five...5 coupons, see how creative I am) to give away. If you would like a chance to receive a coupon please leave me a comment with the word "Huggies" in it. I will randomly draw 5 winners on Sunday. You need to have a valid blogger user name for me to track you down. Also if you have kids in diapers and you have a Twitter account you should follow Huggies, they give away stuff all the time.

If you are not interested in winning the diapers please leave a comment congratulating Jackson.

The Third Wise Men

365 days ago I was woken up by my wife at 5:45 am.

“Bill, I either just peed my pants or my water just broke.”

“What?” I quickly sat up in bed rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“I think my water broke.” Lauren said.

“You think?” I responded searching for my glasses.

“Well it’s not like it went ‘Glug -Glug’or anything.”

We made some calls, arranged to have someone watch Maxfield and Wyatt and we headed to the hospital. We were sitting in the triage room by 8:30 am waiting for someone to determine if Lauren was in Labor. She said she was having minor contractions but nothing that would make her think she was giving birth. The other two births (here and here) she went through were so completely different she was not sure. It looked like this delivery was going to be like the first time she gave birth. They confirmed that Lauren’s water had indeed broken.

While in the triage room Lauren was hooked up to several different monitors, pulse rate, heart rate, fetal heart rate, contraction-contraption and I think a few others. The nurse started to ask Lauren medical questions as I watched each digital display screen trying to determine what each one meant. As the nurse documented the charts I decided to ask Lauren some of my own questions.

“Do you keep any secrets from me?” I asked still studying the heart and pulse rate monitors.

“What?” she asked back in a somewhat annoyed tone.

“Do you have a separate bank account?”

“Bill, what are you talking about?”

“I just figured that since you were hooked up to these monitors that I would be able to tell if you are lying to me. It is kind of like a lie detector.”

The nurse gave me a weird look. Lauren said something about me being a dork and asked if I could tell whether she was telling the truth about that statement.

They moved us into a birthing suite by 9:30 and we waited for the doctors to visit. I made sure Lauren was comfortable and we waited and waited but nothing was happening. Lauren’s OB-Gyn Kenobi, decided to give her Pitosin, a labor inducer, at around 12:30 to move things along.

During the wait we discussed the baby's name. We had not decided on a middle name and I suggested that since it was January 6th, Little Christmas, we should name him Balthasar or Melchior after the Three Wise Men. Lauren quickly shot those names down.

We waited and waited. At one point in the middle of the afternoon we could hear the woman in the room next to us deliver her kid. I am not kidding when I say this; I have never heard a woman scream and holler and carry on as much as that woman did. It was like a scene from a movie. A scary movie. Lauren and I could not help but chuckle, cringe and listen in amazement, from the other side of the wall.

I think the woman’s screaming made Lauren’s body kick into gear. Her contractions grew more intense and closer together. Sometime around 7:37PM the OB-Gyn Kenobi told Lauren to start pushing. He then asked me if I wanted to watch the miracle of birth. I declined. He gave me a look. I told him I did not need to know how a car worked just as long as it did, that is what a mechanic is for. I told him he was the mechanic.

Three and half minutes later, at 7:41 PM, Jackson was born. My third boy, I now had three wise men.

Happy 1st Birthday Jackson.

We celebrated on Sunday. Jackson liked the cake but not the mess.

Picture stolen from my wife's Facebook page.

Literal Sign

My sister-in-law Shannon put together a Snap Fish photo album of my father shortly after he passed away. It took me a while to actually order a copy. When I did finally get a copy I quickly flipped through the pages, smiling at the images of my dad during various phases of his life. There were pictures of him with every person in our family including every one of his grandchildren at the time of his death. I then stashed the book under the coffee table somewhere and forgot about it.

When the the first anniversary of my dad's death came around last year I was a little preoccupied with the pending arrival of our newest baby. Part of me was hoping that the new baby would be born on the anniversary of Dad's passing, to kind of make January 2nd a happy day (I also thought the same thing a few weeks earlier on the anniversary of Lauren's father's death but she would have had to go into labor early for that). I figured if my kid was born on the 1st year anniversary of his grandfather's death it would be a sign, of some kind, that everything is okay. When 1/2/09 came and went with no baby, I pulled out one of my dad's funeral mass cards, read the prayer on the back and chalked it up to "not meant to be" type of thing.

Four days later Lauren gave birth to our new baby boy. While in the hospital I was looking for signs. Why? I have no idea. Maybe it was because I remember my dad sitting in the waiting room when Maxfield was born in the same hospital 5 years earlier. Maybe it is because I remember sitting in a waiting room in another wing of the same hospital as my dad slowly drifted away from life. I think that births and deaths make people look for signs. I looked at every name tag of every person that entered the birthing suite looking for a sign from dad. I noted every room number and significant digit. A nurse was named Violet, wait a minute, my dad used to sell products to nurse-eries that grew Violets. The serial number on this contraction/heart rate monitor thing-a-ma-bob is 4E077W5237, wait a minute 4077 is the army hospital in the show M*A*S*H and my dad loved that show, and my dad knew someone named Bob.

I know, stretches.

Sometimes those signs are figments of an overactive imagination. Sometimes those signs are just coincidence. And sometimes there are just no signs.

Lauren and I were very protective of the baby's name. Everyone knew it would most likely be inspired by an artist but no one knew the inspiration would be Jackson Pollock. We brought Jackson home a couple of days later and went about our busy lives of raising, now, three kids. At one point during those first couple of weeks of having a newborn in the house, and maybe due to a lack of sleep or some strange melancholy, I said something to Lauren about Jackson never meeting either of his grandfathers. We discussed it briefly, talking about looking for signs and chalked it up to "not meant to be" and moved on.

A day or two after that conversation I was dusting the living room (I am sexy that way) and I pulled out a bunch of books and magazines from under the coffee table. I saw the photo album of my dad and still feeling a bit melancholy decided to look through it. I smiled at the images of my dad. I closed the album on my lap and noticed there was a collage of pictures on the back cover. I never saw them before. My eyes immediately zeroed in on this photo of my dad in the army.

I took it as a sign. A literal sign.

Good Tidings

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.

From Jackson...

....Maxfield and Wyatt Blue...,

... the whole happy Poop and Boogies family. You better have a good holiday, because if we get home and I find out you did not have a good time you are going into time out.

Such a Card

Even if Lauren lets me win an argument it still counts as a victory. Right?

A few years ago I learned that my brother Anonymous loves getting Christmas cards. He critiques each card on his own system of merits, like message, layout, cuteness factor, cleverness, and other random criteria. He rates the cards every year. He shares his favorites with his extended family.

This year I wanted to make his list of the top cards. We took Maxfield, Wyatt and Jackson to the portrait studio place to have their annual photos done, they offered us six free Christmas cards. I asked if we could use the six free cards as one that we would send to my brother Anonymous and I told her my idea for the card. She told me I was a dork and that she did not want to waste the free cards on (she may have said "lame") my idea that was not funny. I insisted that Anonymous would "get" the card and that I may actually get a high rating this year.

After arguing for 10 minutes in front of the photographer Lauren finally let me have my way. Due to an error I ended up getting 12 free cards. I sent the above card to each of my siblings. None of them "got" it. Lauren was right, but it was still a victory for me. Right?

Hip

Every time I used to go food shopping and I have to pick up powdered baby formula I would get annoyed.

The supermarket, where I shop, keeps the powdered baby formula locked up behind the customer service desk. Not only do I have to wait for someone at the customer service desk to open the display case, they also have to hand deliver the canister of formula to the register where I plan to check out. It is top notch security. So I have to do all of my shopping, first, before I can request the formula. There have been many times I have left the store without Jackson's formula because I forgot to go to the customer service desk.

One night, last week, a teen aged boy was working the register and another teenage boy was bagging when I was scanning out. I told the kid at the register I needed formula but there was no one at the customer service desk. He paged the manager and continued to scan my other items. I asked the boy why they locked up the formula. He did not know and deferred to the bagger. The bagger said that formula is stolen a lot and so they lock it up.

"People steal formula?" I asked.

"Yeah. That and pregnancy tests." said the bagger. "We don't sell the pregnancy tests here at all because they get stolen so much."

A lady got in line behind me and started unpacking her shopping cart.

"I just don't get it." I said still waiting for the manager. "Why would people steal formula? And of all the stuff that could be locked up behind the counter, formula is the only one. I mean you guys sell NyQuil and that is not locked up. That is a drug. I could see teenagers stealing that. No offense. Wait a minute...is there something in baby formula you teens today are using to make drugs. Do kids get high off of formula?"

The bagger laughed. The checker kind of looked at me weird. The lady behind me laughed.

I continued. "I can just picture a bunch of kids hanging out in the parking lot waiting for their buddy. Yo did you get the Enfamil? No wait. Kids would call it something cool like Enfy or NF. Yo did you get the Enfy? And then they would all head out to a rave."

Again the bagger laughed. The lady behind me laughed. The checker smiled. A teen aged girl, the checker in the next aisle, laughed.

"And now it makes sense to me, " I said, "why all the kids at raves suck on pacifiers. You kids do use formula to get high."

"That's pretty funny." said the bagger laughing. "But no. It's just that baby formula is expensive, so they lock it up."

"A can of formula, the one I get, is only twelve dollars and look at the size of the can. It is difficult to steal. Where would someone put that? A purse maybe. But you would have to be an expert thief to steal a can that size. Where would you put it? I think that maybe the management here is just a little crazy. You know what I mean?"

The kids nodded. I made a few more jokes about the stealing formula. I felt my posture and attitude change. I felt loose and carefree. I felt all cool and hip hanging and chatting with the teenagers as they scanned and bagged my groceries.

"You see that?" I asked pointing to the large purple container of Miralax the checker was about to scan, "That bottle costs eighteen bucks. It is not locked up. It is just sitting on a shelf. I could fit that in my pants and walk right out of here and no one would know."

"What is that?" asked the bagger.

"Yeah? What's Miralax?" asked the checker.

"It's, ummm. It is a stool softener."

The lady behind me tried to stifle her very loud laugh. The three teenagers all gave me a very weird look, not knowing how to respond.

I could feel my posture and attitude change as my face reddened. They scanned the rest of my order in silence. I was no longer cool.

Now when I go shopping to pick up baby formula I feel a little embarrassed.