Nightmare

Last year Lauren I took the kids to the beach for a couple of days. The boys had such a blast that for the next several months they talked about going to the the beach with their friend Stelly and how much fun they had in New Jersey.


When ever Wyatt would have a nightmare or be scared to go to bed for whatever reason I always sat with him and we would talk about the great time down the shore. I would suggest that he dream about digging in the sand, standing in the ocean, or going on rides at the boardwalk. Wyatt would smile, and remember the time fondly and close his eyes and drift off to sleep with happy thoughts.

This year Lauren and I took the kids to the beach for a full week. I am not saying that Wyatt is not having a good time but he is now afraid of the ocean, he got a black eye from the bumper cars, and he feels the same way about log flume rides as his father does.



Now when I try to calm him down at night with stories about the beach I am sure he will hear the screams of his dad wailing like a little girl. I need to come up with new "happy thoughts".




GoodNites is still running their Special Bedtime Moments contest. If you enter the contest you have a chance to win the grand prize which is a bedroom makeover or something.

Contest Rules: Go to Special Bedtime Moments and share a special bedtime moment shared by you and your family (can be a story, tip for getting kids to sleep or rundown of your nighttime routine).

Disclaimer: I have partnered with GoodNites for this series of posts; I am being compensated for writing about my family's bedtime routine and for promoting this contest, not for endorsing a product.

Raging at the Beach

I am on vacation this week. My choice of beach reading is Rage Against the Meshugenah, by another blogger Dan Evans. So far I am enjoying it. The vacation and the book.

Big Smile

On Demand

My kids watch a television show or two in the morning, one around dinner time and, most nights, a show before bed time. These three times are when I need a little time for myself either to get stuff done or to just unwind. They watch in the morning because we are shaking out the cobwebs, getting ready for the day, making breakfast, SSS, feeding Jackson etc. The kids will sometimes watch a show while Lauren is making dinner. And I let them watch a show just before bed so I can take some time for myself to catch up on the news, have a cocktail or just surf on the computer. So, yes, essentially I let the TV babysit my kids for 22 minutes at night so I can have some "me" time. Selfish, I know.


When I click the On Demand button on my Verizon Fios remote control, I am usually doing it so my kids can watch an episode of Word Girl, Super Why or some other type of kids show.

When I hit the On Demand button on my Verizon Fios remote a few menus pop up with the categories of various shows or movies. I scroll down to the "Kids" tab, I press enter and then I search for shows. I find the show my kids want to watch and it takes 20 seconds to load into the cable box. The whole process take a minute to a minute and a half.

When I press the On Demand button, my kids are usually in the room, eyes fixed on the television, anxiously waiting to see Captain Huggy Face defeat Lady Redundant Woman. While I am trying to get to their program they are watching the commercials that automatically pop up on the upper part of the screen. The commercials are for the latest movies that Verizon Fios On Demand is pushing, such as Friday the 13th and Bloody Valentine. The previews show screaming people being chased by masked men carrying large sharp objects.

I know that that MPAA has approved that these previews are suitable for all audiences but, really, does FIOS need to run them while I am on the "Kids" menu? There has to be a better way.


The reason I am complaining is that these On Demand previews are giving my kids nightmares. One night Max woke up and told me about a dream he had with a guy getting a fork stuck in his eye. The next morning, when I asked him about the dream he told me he saw it on a commercial. I have not been able to figure out what commercial but I have to assume it was for a movie like Saw or The Ring. I am most positive that he saw this commercial while we were On Demanding.

Now being woken up at 2:00 in the morning is seriously cutting into my "me" time.

Dear Fisher-Price

Seriously, please consider making toy kid sized lawn mowers that actually cut grass. I would be able to get my lawn done in one-third the time. Well, maybe more like half the time.

Well, actually it would probably take twice as long with all the trips to the ER. So, never mind.

Volunteer

When Maxfield broke his femur Lauren and I drove him to the local ER. They x-rayed his leg and confirmed the fracture but were unable to treat him due to their lack of a Pediatric Orthopedic Specialist. They sent us to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, CHOP for short.

CHOP had to do their own evaluation and run their own tests on Max's leg. The pushing and prodding and twisting of his leg to get the x-rays was extremely painful for Max. Now he had to go through it twice. While being pushed and prodded in CHOP's triage area Maxfield started screaming at the top of his lung's "This is the worst hospital I have ever been to." Which was very funny because, well, you know, he has only been to two.

Someone must have heard him screaming (every body on the floor heard him) and they sent in a specialist. This specialist entered the room, evaluated the situation, and quickly began working on calming Max down. She talked directly to Max and started teaching him breathing techniques to help ease the pain.

"Take deep breath, hold it for a couple of seconds and then push all the pain away when you exhale. Blow the pain away." She said over and over again demonstrating with long audible exhales. She made sure that Lauren and I were watching her so we could help Max manage his pain when she had to leave. This specialist was not a doctor or a nurse, nor do I think this person had any kind of medical degree. She was a volunteer. She was incredible.

Later that night when Max would wake up every five minutes, with severe muscle spasms and intense amounts of pain, I would start coaching him to blow the pain away. The spasms would last for a couple of minutes and Max would, between tears and sobs, huff and puff his way through them. I would end the final moments of the spasm by whispering in his ear, "Push the pain out with your breath. Whoooooooow. Push the pain out with your breath. Whoooooooow. Push the pain out with your breath. Whoooooooow." Max would drift off to sleep for another five minutes before another spasm would hit and we would start all over.

For the two weeks following our hospital stay, at least once a night, I would have to coach Max to blow out his pain. I know we were sent to CHOP to make sure that Max would see a Pediatric Orthopedic, but I am glad we were sent to CHOP so Max and I could see the volunteer.

The cast came off at the end of June and Max is doing really well. The doctor said he is healing exactly as he should be but he won't be back to normal for another 6 or so months. The muscles surrounding his thigh are still somewhat atrophied but are slowly returning to normal. As a result of the fracture Max's right leg is a centimeter or two shorter than his left leg. This causes a very awkward gate and limp when he walks.

A few nights ago I was watching Max play with some kids at the park. The kids were running in a pack from one end of the field to another, using soccer nets as their start and finish lines. Max could not keep up the pace. He was always about 15 yards behind the group. At one point the group stopped at a soccer net and Max kept running. He ran right past them. The other kids started sprinting to catch up to Max. Just as they were on his heels, Max's leg gave out and he went sprawling into the grass. The other kids kept running. Max lay still for a few moments but he then slowly stood up, brushed himself off and hobbled to the other soccer goal.

I watched it all from a distance and my heart was breaking for Maxfield. I found myself welling up and whispering under my breath to myself, "Push the pain out with your breath."

Whooooooow.

Here is a great link for parents. Save it in your favorites. It has tips and information about dealing with trauma After the Injury.

Toothpaste

One of the best pieces of parenting advice I ever received was from an old friend. I don't think I even had kids at the time and he was not offering advice he was just telling me a story.

His kid was maybe 3 or 4 at the time and had his first dentist appointment. The dentist discovered several cavities and needed to drill and fill many teeth. My friend was shocked at the cost of the bill, which was like $2500.00, for teeth that were only going to fall out in a few years. What was happening was my friend could only get his kid to sleep at night if the kid had a sippy cup of warm milk at bed time. The child would fall asleep with the sippy cup.

Apparently milk, which is supposed to be good for teeth and bones, will rot teeth if it sits in the mouth overnight, night after night.

I remember this story and the cost for the dentist every time I put my kids to bed. Part of our bed time routine is brush their teeth every night and the only thing they can drink after brushing is a few sips of water.

Also, did you know someone from West Virginia invented toothpaste? Otherwise they would have called it Teethpaste.

Feel free to use this joke whenever you want. I usually say the Kensington section of Philly instead of West Virginia.

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GoodNites is still running their Special Bedtime Moments contest. If you enter the contest you have a chance to win GoodNites Bedtime Kit which includes a $100 gift certificate to Pajamagram.com, a $50 gift certificate to Borders as well as a blanket, journal, and tote bag from GoodNites. See image of prize on this post.

Contest Rules: Go to Special Bedtime Moments and share a special bedtime moment shared by you and your family (can be a story, tip for getting kids to sleep or rundown of your nighttime routine). You can enter again if you would like. Make sure you leave a comment here that you have entered the contest for a chance to win the tote gift bag.

The winner I randomly picked from this post is BKP. BKP Please email me so I can get your address.

Disclaimer: I have partnered with GoodNites for this series of posts; I am being compensated for writing about my family's bedtime routine and for promoting this contest, not for endorsing a product.

Container

Let's say one day you bring your lunch, which is either potato salad or pasta salad or some kind of a rice and bean dish, to work in a nice reusable plastic container. Then say you eat your lunch but you never rinse out the container because you are just going to wash it when you get home. But only you forget and leave it in your car.

For two weeks.

In July.

When you find the container, you notice that there is something growing in it that does not resemble rice or potato or pasta. Do you just throw the container out? Or do you clean it and reuse it? What do you clean it with?

Apologies

We attended two parties this weekend; a housewarming party on Saturday evening and a 5-year-old birthday party on Sunday afternoon. At both parties Lauren and I did not know a majority of the people.

I am happy to report that Lauren only had to apologize for me twice.

We were at the housewarming party for only about 30 minutes when Lauren entered the room in which I sat chatting with an older couple. We were all just finishing a laugh as Lauren entered. She quickly assessed the laughter in the room as a somewhat nervous laughter from the older couple and I of course had some stupid look on my face.

"Oh and this is my wife." I said as I tired to waive Lauren over to introduce her to the older couple.

Lauren nodded a hello and said, "I just want to apologize for anything that my husband may have said or will possibly say tonight."


The next day we attended the birthday party which was held at a local farm/petting zoo. There were like 20 kids and their parents at the party. With so many animals to feed, pet, ride and antagonize I did not get too much of a chance to meet the other parents. Lauren did pre-apologize to one couple that we had a chance to chat with.

All of the kids gathered around a very large table in the barn for cake. The hosts passed out party hats and Blow-outs . There was a bit of commotion as parents helped their kids with the hats and party favors. I was at one end of the barn and Lauren was at the other end. A little boy at my end of the barn yelled, "Wait, Mommy. Daddy needs a blow."

And just as there was a slight pause in the noise and commotion, I said, (which I directed to my friend C who standing next to me and I thought I said it kind of under my breath, but it came out actually louder, barns have a weird way of carrying sounds) "What daddy doesn't need one?"
The awkward laughter traveled up to the other side of the barn. I caught Lauren's eyes and she smiled one of those "Lord help me" smiles.

No Name Brand Cans of Soup Were Harmed

Well it took me a while from the time I got my first letter from Campbell's, but I finally got the new look for Poop and Boogies. What do you think?

I want to thank my friend Caren from HandleWithCaren who did all the photo design work. I met Caren when I was a freshman and she was a senior in high school. I think we shared an art class together. I say "shared" because I was in Drawing I and she was in Drawing III, or Expert Level Drawing or something like that, we had the same teacher but were on different levels. She was/is awesome, I kind of sucked. I always looked up to her as an artist. Even after she graduated and went on to art college she would check in on me to see how my artwork was progressing. She would look at my work, compliment it and make me feel better. She kept me interested in art and always made me feel like I had worth as an artist. She was being nice.

I stopped pursuing a career in art after my first art history class. Art History Class was the most physically challenging class I have ever taken in my entire life. The physical challenge? Staying awake. Anyone who can stay awake enough in Art History to pass the class truly loves art. I applaud those people. Caren is one of those people. She went on to be a freelance artist and advertising person in New York. Every now and then I will talk to Caren and ask her what she is working on. She would tell me, and being nice she would ask me how I felt about different pitches and what not. Again she makes me feel like I have worth as an artist. I know now, that she takes any idea I may throw her way and does the exact opposite. That is why she is a successful advertiser.

Thanks to Jo-Lynne at DCR Design for doing all the layout code work. She was great to work with. She was very patient handling my technical requests that usually involved the words "thingamabob", "Whoziwhatsits" and "you know that thing, that code, HTMMLL button link thingy."

There a couple of buttons on the side bar somewhere. One button is the "about me" page. One of those buttons "MMM Good" will take you to a page of links to various blogs I read or other websites I like to visit. Not every blog or site has been added yet (I still have some work I need to do) I plan to change those links on a regular basis or as my tastes in websites change.

Thanks for stopping by and I hope you like the new look.

Ride

I pulled into my driveway from "my" parking space on the street so I could back out and turn around. As I was backing out, a car, I did not recognize, came down the street and parked in "my" space against the curb. I waited a moment to make sure they were not going to inch ahead past my driveway and park in front of the neighbors house. They did not.

I kept my eye on the car as I pulled out. I was trying to see if I recognized the driver but it must have appeared as though I was staring. The other car in "my" space was a shiny blue. It looked brand new. I pulled along the side of the blue vehicle and the driver lowered his window. It was my ex-neighbor. I don't know if ex-neighbor is the right word for it. We didn't break-up or anything. I would say old neighbor but he is not really old. He is my age. When I moved into my house he was in between jobs and lived with his parents, who are my neighbors. He then found a job a few hours away and moved out. So he is my ex-neighbor, or maybe former neighbor works.
Yes, former neighbor.

Anyway, my former neighbor lowered his window and said hello. I was still eyeballing his car because it was all bright and shiny and new and really nice. We exchanged quick pleasantries and I was not really paying attention because I was thinking to myself that he must be doing pretty well with his new gig with the shiny new car and all. He sensed that I was staring and asked if it was okay that he parked in "my" space. I laughed it off and said no-problem. I started to explain that I was staring (you know because I felt weird for staring) because I am familiar with most of the cars that park on the street and I was trying to figure whose car it was. Just then a woman exited from the passenger side of the shiny blue car.

My former neighbor introduced me to the woman.

"Bill," he said, "this is my girlfriend..." He said her name but I don't remember what it was. I was still focused on the car.

I said a quick hello to the woman and then I nodded towards his car, which his girlfriend was standing against, and I asked, "So is that a new ride?"

There was an awkward silence as both my former neighbor and his girlfriend were trying to figure out if I was talking about her.

Sorry

Dear Lady in the Green Shirt and Khaki Pants,

I am sorry. I really am. You see flying on plane, let alone one of the small buses with wings, makes me very nervous and a little skittish. When I ran into you I had just landed at Cincinnati Airport terminal B and was somewhat shaken up by the slightly rough landing.

I appreciate that you were understanding and that you answered my question honestly when I asked "Where are the urinals?"

You smiled as you looked up from the sink as you fixed your pants and said, "You are in the ladie's room. The urinals are in the men's room."

Again, I am sorry.


William

Frankie Pickle

I have been to my fair amount of art shows. I figure I have paid my dues and there is no need for me to ever go to another one. When Lauren asked me, Saturday morning, if I wanted to go to the Tinicum Art Festival that afternoon, I don't know what possessed me to say yes. She even asked with the stipulation that I don't rush her through the displays, vendors and artist's showcases, like I usually do, and I still said yes.

I read on the website that there would be entertainment for the kids as well as some local author/illustrators who would be signing books. I was interested in meeting two of them; Rich Egielski, a Caldecott Medal recipient, and the other, Eric Wight, an accomplished comic book artist.

The festival was fun. The kids enjoyed meeting a monkey, the live music, the food and the swings. I kept telling them we had a swing set at home and there was no reason for us to travel the 45 minutes just so they could swing on the swings but that did not matter to them. I also tried the same kind of argument with Lauren telling her we have artwork at home and there was no reason to travel 45 minutes to look at other artwork, but she reminded me that I was not to rush her.

Eventually we made our way to the author's booth and I was pleasantly surprised that both the Caldecott winner and Eric Wight occupied the booth at the same time. Eric was signing his new book Frankie Pickle and the Closet of Doom. I introduced myself and made small talk with Eric and I tried to get Maxfield and Wyatt engaged in the conversation. I threw a question at Max which I knew he knew the answer.

"Illustrator." Max said.

Both Eric and the Caldecott winner raised their eyebrows as though they were impressed with a 5-year-old knowing the word "illustrator". I then asked Max to tell the authors his full name which he responded "Maxfield". I told them his named was inspired by Maxfield Parrish. Eric smiled and said he thought that was pretty cool.

Rich, the Caldecott winner, chuckled and said "That's great." He pointed to Wyatt and asked "What the little guy's name? N.C. ?"

I smiled and said " As a matter of fact his name is Wyatt. Inspired by N.C. Wyeth."

Both author/illustrators thought my kid's names were cool. Where else besides an art festival would other people actually get the inspiration behind Maxfield's and Wyatt's name?

I made small talk with Eric about his book and I decided to buy it. He was funny and a decent guy. I was feeling all artsy, hip and cool hanging out with and talking to writers and I mentioned to Eric Wight that I had a blog and that maybe I would review Frankie Pickle and the Closet of Doom.

"Oh that would be great." He said. " I will give you my business card and maybe we can set up an interview."

I took the business card and then I...then I ...I got cold feet. In my head I started to panic. I got really nervous. I was thinking Interview? What kind of questions would I ask? I would totally sound like Chris Farley on SNL. I am so not cool and hip. A published author was asking me to interview him? What the? He must think I am with Huffington or something. Wait until he finds out my blog is called Poop and Boogies.

I froze. I said nothing. I thanked him for his time. I mumbled something about emailing him. I shook his hand and I left.

I caught up with Lauren and told her about the exchange and me suddenly getting all nervous. She laughed and said, " I think you may have another man crush developing."

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My review of Frankie Pickle. I bought the book on Saturday. I have read it to Maxfield three times. He has requested that I read it more. That right there is an excellent review.

Frankie Pickle is a chapter book that switches between comic pages and prose to tell the story. The comic pages are used when Frankie is using his imagination and the prose for when he is in the "real" world. The style of Eric Wight reminds me of a cross between a Calvin and Hobbes comic and the stories of Henry the Explorer, which are my favorite books from when I was a kid.
The characters, artwork and story are perfect for kids ages 4 to 10. I really have fun reading Frankie Pickle so I guess it would be perfect for a parent too.


So if I do get a chance to interview him what questions should I ask?

Nothing Itches

Lauren and I were married Seven years ago today. I am still amazed that someone as beautiful as this...

...married me.

I am also amazed at the stretching capabilities of spandex and how the costumes fit the groomsmen.

Holes

I need a little help with a certain observation I have made.

I am just going to come out and say it. My boys love holes. The second one of my boys discovers a hole, not matter what the size, shape or type they immediately have to fill it by shoving something in it.

I'm pretty observant of my kids and how they play. I am very observant about what they find interesting and fascinating. My boys have always been captivated by holes. If they find a hole in the backyard they have to prod it with a stick. If they see an opening in the bottom of a clay planter they have to stuff it with leaves. If they find a depression in the wall where there once was a nail, they instantly have to stuff Wolverine's claws in there. They are constantly sticking things in holes.

When my boys play and interact with other kids I try to watch and see if the other kids behave the same way my kids do. I have 10, or so, nieces and nephews that Max and Wyatt see and play with on a regular basis. My kids also get together with various friends through out the week. Sure some kids prefer sports over action figures and there are differences from how girls and boys play, but for most I am always on the lookout to make sure my kids do the same things that other kids do; that my kids are not weird.

So far, I have noticed that my kids are not weird when it comes to holes.

My observation, the one I need help with, is this: All boys love holes and have to stick stuff in them. Girls not so much.

Please let me know your thoughts. Am I off base with this? Do you agree? Is it the Y Chromosome? Or is it just that my boys are weird?

The Need to Feed.

This weekend at my family's annual 4th of July/Mom's (Momo9) Birthday celebration I found myself saying something I never thought I would say.

There were about 25 kids at the party. Maxfield and Wyatt were distracted by all the things to do while at my brother's house, like Wiffle ball, a sand box, horseshoes and 23 other kids to play with that they did not want to stop to eat lunch. I know that when my kids have empty stomachs they are 78% more likely to have a meltdown. I kept asking them to sit and have a sandwich or some fruit. They both refused and I let it go because they were having a great time.

Sometime around mid-afternoon I could tell that my kids were getting a bit irritable and I thought it had to do with them being hungry. I told Max and Wyatt that they needed to stop playing and sit down and eat something. They both put up an argument as I lead them to the food table. I knew if they did not eat there may be meltdown. Most of the lunch items had been cleared and so I offered them what was available. They both put up a fight. They wanted to play.

And that's when I said, "Look, you are going to sit down and eat these brownies and Snow-cones and you are going to like it!"

Sleepy Stories

Now that Maxfield and Wyatt are in bunk beds I cannot read them bedtime stories anymore. They both want to look at the pictures and, quite frankly, I don't have the strength or stamina in my arms to hold the book out in their direction while reading, plus I can't read upside down (I always admired teachers who could). So now, I have to just tell them stories. Once they are settled into their beds I will lay on the bottom bunk with Wyatt to say prayers and tell stories for about 5 to 10 minutes.

I have run through all of the classics such as the Three Bears, Three Pigs and Jack and the Bean Stalk. I have told them every origin story of every super hero that I know. I was quickly running out of ideas. I started to make up stories each night but after a long day and finally getting a moment to relax, being creative was a struggle. I decided it would be best for me to tell the kids the stories from my youth. I would tell them quick stories about Johhny Socko and the Giant Robot. I told them about Sigmund and his friends Johnny and Scott. I dazzled them with Steve Austin fighting Bigfoot.

One week, each night, I told them (the best to my recollection) the cliff notes version of the first couple of episodes of Starblazers. After the telling the story of Derek Wildstar, Nova and the Gamilons for 15 minutes I would start to fall asleep. I have a bad habit of talking in my sleep and being somewhat delirious. I would continue babbling for a few minutes only to have the kids wake me up so I would continue the space opera. I would have no idea where I drifted off in the story and I would need Max to recap for me.

"I'm sorry. I drifted off. Where was I Max?"

"The Gamilons attacked after Gopher and Captain Stuben fired the wave motion gun at Pluto's moon." Max told me.

I was groggy and wasn't sure I heard him."Who fired the wave motion gun?"

"You said Gopher and Captain Stuben but I don't know who they are. And Dad who is Mr Rourke?"



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GoodNites is still running their Special Bedtime Moments contest. If you enter the contest you have a chance to win GoodNites Bedtime Kit which includes a $100 gift certificate to Pajamagram.com, a $50 gift certificate to Borders as well as a blanket, journal, and tote bag from GoodNites. See image of prize on this post.

Contest Rules: Go to SpecialBedtimeMoments.com and share a special bedtime moment shared by you and your family (can be a story, tip for getting kids to sleep or rundown of your nighttime routine). You can enter again if you would like. Make sure you leave a comment here that you have entered the contest for a chance to win the tote gift bag.
The winner from my last post in June is Charity.

Disclaimer: I have partnered with GoodNites for this series of posts; I am being compensated for writing about my family's bedtime routine and for promoting this contest, not for endorsing a product.

My First Car.

My first car was a 1976 Ford Granada which was the color of rust and gray primer paint. It's two door body was practically made of rust, compound putty and wood filler. I bought the car, a month before I turned eighteen, for 300 bucks. The lady who sold it to me told me it needed some work. I made sure I had some extra money to pay for a paint job but I knew I would need to do the sanding and repairing myself.

The first repairs I made to the body were to ensure it would pass state inspection. I patched all the holes in the driver side floor and made sure that the roof stopped leaking. I tore out the largest areas of rust on the exterior and filled them with mesh wire and putty and Spackle. I covered the front of the car in a coat of gray primer. As a joke, but also because I knew I was going to do more work on the car, I spray painted black bats on the doors to give it the Bat-mobile feel.

I drove the "Bat-mobile" around for a little while, fully intending to finish the work on the car, until I was in an accident. While cruising down Route 309 another car clipped my front bumper on the passenger side. There was no real damage except that my bumper stuck out about a foot and half on the driver's side. I knew the car would not pass inspection with the bumper jutting out so I stopped working on the car.

One day my dad asked why I stopped the work and I told him about the bumper. He laughed and told me to pull the car into the driveway, angle across the front yard and back up so that my car was perpendicular to the driveway with the drivers side facing the street. My dad then got into his station wagon, backed up the neighbor's driveway across the street, looked both ways and then gunned it. He crashed his car into my car. Right on the bumper, pushing it back about 18 inches and almost perfectly into place. I drove the Bat-mobile around for the rest of the summer, knowing I would complete the paint job before I drove it to the community college in the fall.

A couple of weeks later my passenger side window shattered. I stopped working on the body of the car because I needed to save up and buy a new window and window motor. I used a trash bag for a window for the rest of the fall and most of the winter. Most people at the community college ended up knowing me from my one window Bat-mobile. I was the kid who marched to the beat of his own drummer and people could not help but be curious. Soon I was more social than studious and I did not do well at school.

I decided I would have to get a job and I applied for a position at Prudential. I told myself if I got the job I would get my car painted. If I was going to be working in an office and acting professional I would have to get my car to look professional. I got the job. I drove the Bat-mobile to work everyday. I replaced the window with money from my first paycheck. People who pulled into the parking lot at the same time I did every day, recognized me as the kid with the Bat-mobile and they would call me Batman. They were curious and would ask questions. Most people appreciated that I was a different and that I "would actually drive around in a car like that". I liked the attention I was getting. People knew who I was.

I was doing really well in my position at Prudential and the department manager seemed to like me and was putting me on the fast track for promotions. One of the reasons he liked me was due to the fact that many people throughout the building were familiar with me. He could not quite put his finger on it but he liked my "networking". He liked that I "thought outside of the box". He did not realize that I did not network, people just talked about me and the car and when they could they would ask me about it. I did not think outside the box, I just did not care what others thought of me.

The department manager caught wind of the Bat-mobile and called me into his office in May of 89. He explained that although it did not matter to him what kind of car I drove, if I were to move up in the company I may have to travel and he asked me what type of impression would my car leave on clients. My answer was that I would introduce myself to clients as Bruce Wayne and I would tell them that I fight crime at night. He did not seem to get my joke and I then told him I planned on changing the car in the next month or so.

June of 89 Tim Burton's Batman hit the theaters. It was wildly successful. It was now cool to like Batman. In one weekend my car went from being a cool, hip, conversation piece to being a fad. In one weekend I went from being a free thinking, different, quirky, cool dude to a trend follower who was a little too infatuated with a movie. People stopped asking questions. They stopped looking at me like I was cool and started to look at me like I was weird.
I drove the Bat-mobile for a few more weeks when the engine seized. I don't think the car could handle that it was no longer cool.

Always Someone Cooler

Recently I read an article about how "old" people are ruining "new" inter-net sensations like Facebook and Twitter.


The article explained how "Kids" today are upset with the fact that their parents are signing up for Twitter and Facebook accounts. Twitter and Facebook was the playground for the youngsters and they are annoyed that mom is trying to "follow" or "friend" them. The article claimed that both Twitter and Facebook are gaining popularity with the Baby Boomers and the 35 plus demographic and that is a demo that advertisers want. It is only a matter of time before the kids find a new inter-net hangout.


I read the article to Lauren and we joked that once something becomes mainstream it is no longer "cool". She laughed and said, "I felt the same way about grunge music. Nobody listened to grunge at all except for me and a few of my friends. Then, one day, it is all the rage and I felt robbed of good music."


I nodded in agreement. "I felt the same way when the movie Batman came out in 89. All of the sudden everyone is a Batman fan. It became cool to like comic books. I felt robbed of a good super hero."

Lauren laughed and she kind of gave me a look that could have been sarcastic and patronizing. "Uhmm. Yeah. Like that." She said.

Apparently I am not as cool as I think.

MLT

Twelve years ago I met Lauren. Twelve years ago was our first date.

Twelve years ago I fell in love. I am still falling.

She is better than a nice MLT- a mutton lettuce and tomato sandwich where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe...they're so perky. I love that.
Also twelve years ago I used Just For Men on my goatee.

Changes

I have been working on trying to get eveything lined up for the new look of Poop and Boogies. By working I mean I have called two people; one to design the look and feel of the blog and the other person to do the installation. I am treating this process kind of like how the recipe of Krispy Kreme donuts is handled, not one person has all the ingredients/recipe, that way it is a big secret.

Before I work out the final details I wanted to see if anyone who reads this blog has any suggestions or recommendations. I am looking for feedback. If you would be so kind, could you answer a few questions for me?

1. What other blogs do you read? Why?

DOS. As far as overall look and feel (design) what are your favorite blogs?

Trois. How do you get to, or read Poop and Boogies? Do you come through Facebook? Twitter? Do you have it bookmarked or linked? Google Reader? Or subscription?

Fore. How did you find P & B? Was it a link in someones sidebar? Did you click on a comment or link in some one's post?

V. What kind of stories do you like to read here? Funny? Serious? About my kids? About my childhood? What would you like to see here?

Rocky 6. What don't you like about this site?

7. Would you recommend Poop and Boogies to a friend? If so would you feel weird telling your friend to go read Poop and Boogies? Seriously, you are at a bar with your buddy or at the water cooler at work, would you be able to say "Poop and Boogies" with a straight face? If yes, please tell your friends to visit.

Saving Body Parts

Lauren and I were talking about the boys playing with their toys.

"I was playing with Max and Wyatt, with their guys, and I was amazed that they just want to keep smashing the guys together."

"I know. Wyatt's fingers kept getting hurt."

"I guess it is a boy thing. Bill, can you do me a favor?" Lauren asked. "When a toy breaks, just throw it out. You know, if it is broken beyond repair."

"Sure." I said.

"I keep finding broken toys."

I know. I have habit of saving all the broken pieces. Then I forget what they go to and I hold onto them. I end up carrying the pieces in my pockets for days hoping to discover what they belong to. As soon as I throw out the little piece, the very next day I realize what toy it went to."

"Well, for now on, just throw the stuff out." Lauren said.

She then added, "Tomorrow I am going to go through their figure box and look for all the miscellaneous body parts."

This is a picture of the current contents of my pocket...

...and miscellaneous body parts.

Content

Lauren took this picture of her and Jackson. It is one of my favorite photos. I don't remember Max or Wyatt being thumb suckers.

Kid Libs

There is a way of speaking about/to kids that only a parent can do. Talking just a little bit louder than normal, stressing the kids name to get their attention, then leading the conversation down a path, with dramatic pauses, so that the kid will try to fill in the blanks in the line of the conversation. This usually happens when one parent is trying to tell the other parent about the days events. Well, I think of these conversations as Kid Libs; like a live version of Mad Libs.

There are two versions of the Kid Libs. When something good has happened, the parent builds the story stressing positive words and uses a slightly higher pitch when describing the events. The result is met by the third party in the conversation giving praise.

Example-
Mom: And then after Wyatt ate all of his lunch, he even ate his carrot sticks, he went into the bathroom all by himself and he_________


Wyatt: Went pee on the potty.


Dad: Yay. All right! Give me a high five.


The other version is when something bad happened. When it is bad the parent speaks in a straight monotone voice, stressing bad events or negative words in a loud whisper, where the dramatic pause is sometimes preceded by a question in the hopes the child will admit to the crime or mistake to the third party.


Example-
Mom: After I told Wyatt he could not have dessert because he would not eat his chicken, he threw his fork, stormed into the living room and then proceeded to, what did you do in the living room? He took a crayon and he_______


Wyatt: Drawed on the coffee table.


Dad: You know you are not supposed to do that.



I love when the Kid Libs end in unexpected results.

Where a good story becomes even better.

Mom: Max was so helpful today. He helped me change the baby's diaper and he helped with dinner and he helped with______

Max: Mommy's workout. We did sit-ups.

Or when a good story ends up in throwing Dad under the bus.

Dad: The boys were so good in the store this morning. They were well behaved. They helped put the groceries in the cart and they even helped_______

Max: Dad eat a bag of Cheetos on the way home.

Sigh

When Max broke his Femur he stayed in the hospital for two nights. Before they would release Max he had to meet certain physical criteria (like fitting into a car seat and wheelchair) and Lauren and I had to meet with various hospital staff members to learn how to care for the broken leg.

One of the parental requirements for release was for us to watch a 20 minute video on hip-spica casts. Lauren watched it the day before and I was required to watch it the day we were meeting with the physical therapist and other staff. The video was a typical cheesy hospital production of the "dos and don'ts" of care giving for hip-spica cast. Part of the video explained that although movement is limited with this type of cast it is important for the patient to lay in different positions to prevent bed sores and itching. The video instructed us to use pillows and bean bags and other things to position the patient. It also showed people with this type of cast in all various positions.

Later, the woman physical therapist, the female nurse, Lauren and myself were going over all the release papers. The physical therapist was going through a checklist to make sure all criteria was met. Car seat-check. Wheelchair-check. Pillow-check. She then asked us if we had seen the video.

"She watched it yesterday." I said pointing to Lauren. "And I just watched it today."

"Which one did you see?" Asked the therapist.

"I am not sure what it was called." I said.

"There are two videos and I need to verify you saw the correct one."

And this is the moment that I say things that I shouldn't say in public.

"I am not sure what the title was but the video I watched was like the Kama Sutra of hip-spica casts." I said.

The room became silent. I could hear each of the women's eyeballs shift from side to side looking at each other as if asking "did he just say what I think he said?" but not wanting to admit to knowing what the Kama Sutra is. Awkward.

And in typical fashion in these circumstances, Lauren sighed one of those sighs, which from where I stand sounds like a mixture of embarrasment and disbelief that she married me with a hint of "here we go again."

Lord's Prayer

GoodNites has offered me an opportunity to host a contest. If you enter the contest you have a chance to win GoodNites Bedtime Kit which includes a $100 gift certificate to Pajamagram.com, a $50 gift certificate to Borders as well as a blanket, journal, and tote bag from GoodNites. Something like this.

Contest Rules: Go to SpecialBedtimeMoments.com and share a special bedtime moment shared by you and your family (can be a story, tip for getting kids to sleep or rundown of your nighttime routine), along with a picture. (My brother Anonymous is totally snickering right now).

Copy the URL of your shared bedtime moment from SpecialBedtimeMoments.com and (the URL copy may not work so please copy and paste your story in my comments) or tell me which story is yours (to let me know that you participated). In a few weeks I will pick the post that I liked best and announce the winner. I will have the same contest two more times between now and mid August.

Disclamier: I have partnered with GoodNites for this series of posts; I am being compensated for writing about my family's bedtime routine and for promoting this contest, not for endorsing a product.The Lord's Prayer
I put Maxfield and Wyatt to bed every night. Once Max is settled in the top bunk I lay down next to Wyatt in the bottom bunk and we say prayers. I try to start off the prayers by asking the kids what we are thankful for that day. After we thank God for the “Back Yardigans”, “gummy worms” or “the black Spiderman” we go through a list of family and friends and ask for blessings for them. Sometimes we add a couple of special blessing requests for people we know who are sick or need some extra attention from the big guy.

We always finish our prayers by saying the Lord’s Prayer. I usually start the prayer and the kids repeat after me. Every night I crack up at Wyatt’s version of the Lord’s Prayer. He either repeats what he thinks I said or whatever is on his mind at that particular part of the prayer. What follows is a compilation fo the various things he has said during the “Our Father.”

Our Father

Our Father

Who art in heaven

Who draws art in heaven

Hallowed be thy Name.

Hallowed be YOUR Name

Thy kingdom come

Thy kingdom come

Thy will be done

Thy willby done, Dad who is Willby?

On Earth as it is in heaven

On Earth and in Uncle Kevin

Give us this day

Give us today

Our daily bread

Our daily bread with butter

And forgive us our trespasses

And forgive us our tresspassesesseses

As we forgive those who trespass against us

I am not going to say that part. Who is Willby?

And lead us not into temptation

And lead us into temptation

But deliver us from evil

And deliver us our evil

Amen

AAAAAAAmen.

There are nine other bloggers who are participating in this contest. The Blogger who sends the most readers who post on SpecialBedtimeMoments.com can receive $1000.00 in children’s books to donate to the charity of their choice. I think I would donate the books to the SPCA because I believe that if dogs and cats could learn to read they would not need to be placed in homes. They also could probably go out and get jobs and be productive members of our society. Then I realized that the job market is pretty rough right now and we would not want some felines taking what jobs that are available so I would most likely donate the books to a children’s Hospital (not a hospital run by children but one that treats children) or maybe a needy school.

So go and post and leave me a comment.

Super Day

Wyatt Blue turns three on June 11th. If you are new here you can read his story here and here and here see early pictures here and here.

Most three-year-olds have two identities. Wyatt does as well. One is sweet and funny and innocent and affectionate and the other is dark and moody and stubborn and yelly.

He is the middle child and I know it will give him a complex. Happy Birthday Wyatt Blue.

Cease and Desist

I received a letter from the Intellectual Property Counsel from Campbell's Soup. In a nut shell they are asking me to change my blog header so the casual reader is not misled into thinking that Campbell's is associated or endorses my blog. They also want to make sure that there is no misunderstanding from the casual reader that there is an actual flavor of Campbell's Soup called Poop and Boogies.

At first I was a little worried because I am not sure where the law stands on parody and trademark. Then I was all "Big company trying to squash the little guy and his little blog too. This is an outrage!" But then I realized I was actually happy that Campbell's has discovered my blog and that they expressed concern with the header. I just hope that the people there are reading and enjoying my posts.

Actually, the Intellectual Property Counsel at Campbell's' have been very nice and I understand their concerns. They even suggested a few simple changes to keep the header somewhat intact but not so close to their trade dress.

So, where does that leave me? Well, it is time for a change. I am just not sure what kind of change. Do I do a complete overhaul? Do I just change the header? I don't even know how to do this stuff. This is where I need help.

I want to stay with the food motif but I am not sure what kind of food label. Any suggestions? Does anyone who reads Poop and Boogies work for a food company that will actually endorse my blog? Will they pay me? I already tried Frank's Hot sauce, which is my favorite, but they declined (they sent me coupons though).

Does anyone know anyone that can help with an overhaul? How much does something like that cost? I want to stay with Blogger because the idiot curve leans in my favor but I don't know the first thing about html or design or interfaces and flux-capacitors.

How do you suggest I change the site? What would you like to see? Please help.

Memory Lane

I have been either thrown-up on, spit on, or peed on at least once, every day, for the past 16 days.

It kind of reminds me of the time I used to work in an after hours nightclub.

Cooking with Poop and Boogies

I enjoy cooking. Most weekends I cook dinner for the family and I usually like to experiment with different ingredients. I will get an idea for some type of meal and I normally do not look up recipes. I try to wing it. Two weeks ago I tried to make fried avocados and I thought I would share my experience.

Fry some ground spicy sausage in a pan, as it browns chop it to make it into small crumbles.

Dice one mango, one red pepper, half an onion and a few slices of cucumber. Mix it all together throwing in a pinch of orange zest and a splash of lemon juice. You want the consistency to be that of a thick salsa. Mix in the ground Sausage.

Slice avocados from top to bottom and remove pit. Use a spoon to make the divot left by the pit a little bigger on each half of the avocado (this is where the salsa/sausage goes after it is fried). Use a spoon to scoop the meat of the avocado from the skin making sure to leave most of the avocado intact.

Mix one raw egg with a little bit of milk in a bowl. In another bowl combine a dash of cumin, cayenne pepper, and garlic salt to some breadcrumbs.

Heat some oil in a frying pan.

Dip and roll the avocado halves into the egg and then into the bread crumbs and make sure it is evenly covered.

Out of the corner of your eye, through the kitchen window, watch your five year old fall from the monkey bars. Out of the corner of your ear, hear your wife yell for you to come out to the back yard. And hurry. Wash the raw egg off your hands, turn off oil on stove and run out back. Listen to the five-year-old scream. Debate whether child is actually injured or just faking it because he heard you were having fried avocados for dinner.

Have wife tell you she heard something break. Tell five-year-old to "shake it off". Have wife tell you again she thinks something broke.

Take your five-year-old to local emergency room and be told they have to transfer him to another facility. Run home a few hours later to check on other kids and to get stuff for an overnight stay. See the ingredients to the fried avocado sitting on counter, in raw egg, for the past few hours and dump them all in the garbage.

If you follow the last part of the recipe it should end up looking like this.

Extended Family

Over the past few weeks I have had five nieces/nephews make their First Holy Communion. I have attended each of their parties celebrating the event. When attending these types of large family parties I always seem to forget that extended family will be there. The extended family I refer to is the In-laws to my brother(s) hosting the party. Their mother and father in-law, various brother and sister in-laws, nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles that are of no direct relation to me are in attendance. I always seem to forget their names and I know, for the most part, they forget mine. I always seem to get a little bit of social anxiety in these situations.

The last time most of Extended In-laws and I met were at the wedding of the mutual family member.

Since I have 7 brothers, at these big parties I sometimes get, "Which one are you? You were so funny at the wedding when you guys roasted (insert brothers name)." Or maybe they say "Bill? Or is it Dan, right? Were you the one that said that -Bulson push-shove thing/The groom's got big balls./The groom has three nipples./Joan thinks we are getting naked- at (insert brother's name) wedding?"

I then introduce myself and have to admit that I don't remember most of my brother's weddings and that most likely I did not say any of those things. It usually ends with an awkward moment of me not remembering the Extended In-law's name and I take a long extended sip from my beer in the hopes that my silence forces them to say something else.

Anyway at these recent parties, over the past few weeks, I decided to take a different angle to those Extended In-law conversations. I now admit to saying those things at the wedding. I then say the most off-the-wall somewhat offensive comment I can think of and then introduce myself as Kevin.

It has been working great. My brother Jim's, John's and Dan's In-laws all think Kevin is a little strange.

Junkie

We have been a video game free house. Not by choice or design, because I love video games, but more because the kids never showed interest or asked for any types of video game system. Then Max broke his leg. The very generous people at my job all chipped in and bought Max a Nintendo DS.

I wished I would have video taped the past three days of Max and his DS. The recording would have provided a documentary on the early signs of addiction. I Googled "signs of addiction" and they include the following.

*Extreme hyperactivity and excessive talking
*Change in overall attitude/personality
*Loss of interest in things that were important before
*Loss of interest in family and friends
*Unexplained silliness or giddiness
*Difficulty in paying attention and forgetfulness
*Lack of motivation
*Unexplained moodiness and irritability
*Defensiveness/temper tantrums.

Maxfield is totally addicted to the DS.

In other news the Signs of Addiction also describe the typical behavior of three year old.

Parental Love

When each of my kids were born I could tell that I had a certain amount of, I don't know what to call it, I guess instinctual love works, for them. I knew that I loved them from somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind and heart but I never felt that certain connection or bond right from the get go. I think part of the reason for that is that I did not feel the love from my kids right from the start. I know that may sound wrong but that is how I felt. I felt the need to protect them and nurture them but that reciprocal part of the relationship just wasn't there. Lauren nursed each of the kids so they didn't need me.


I didn't feel connected to Maxfield until about he was about 6 months old. Sure, I loved him more and more each day, but it wasn't until his personality developed that I could feel his affection and need for me that I truly experienced the love that a father can have for his son. It was also about the same time that Lauren stopped nursing.

When Wyatt was born, I became Max's best friend. Lauren spent more time with Wyatt and I spent more time with Max. My attention and time was focused on Max and it took at least 9 months for me to feel the father connection to Wyatt. Although he was still nursing he became more independent and his laugh and attitude made me completely fall head over heels.

Now with Jackson my time and attention is now split between the two older boys. My focus is on taking care of them, knowing that Lauren is taking care of Jackson. I was sure that I would not feel the bond between us for a much longer time. I was wrong. For some reason, with Jackson, it was around the three month mark where I came to fully appreciate my love for him. Maybe it is due to Max and Wyatt interacting with Jackson more and Jackson is giving back quicker than the other two did. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I am more calm and patient as a dad. Maybe it is due to the fact that I am finally getting this parental love thing down and I can recognize Jackson's personality and needs of me quicker.

Lauren is nursing Jackson and maybe the reciprocal love is due to the fact that a few years ago I was in better shape and now I am starting to get man-boobs and Jackson is just confused.

Bloody Murder

"What's wrong!?" My mom would bark from the bottom of the steps in response to the scream that came from the upstairs hallway.

We would all go suddenly quiet in the upstairs hallway and give the collective evil eye to the brother that screamed.

"Nuthin." One of us would reply from the top of the steps making sure to stay close to the shadows so mom might not recognize the person responding.

"What do you mean 'Nuthin.'?" Mom would ask. Which would then be followed up with "Someone is screaming bloody murder up there."

In the upstairs hallway, heads would snap in an accusatory way towards the offending screamer. Silent whispers of "I told you to be quiet" or "It's your fault" would be directed at each other.

The offender, also clinging to the shadows, half leaning down the steps, would apologize.

"That's enough!" Mom would say without ever clarifying enough of what.

We would wait a few minutes, laugh at the person who was scolded, and go back to our our game of hallway tackle football or our steel cage match. The offending screamer was not hurt but was most likely cheering at a touchdown or a perfect Greg Valentine Figure Four move. If someone was ever actually hurt, required stitches, broke a bone, what have you, we would never scream. We would all be quiet in an effort to cover up the incident; including the brother that was bleebing. Quiet and brothers usually mean someone is hurt. The quieter the bloodier.

Our screaming bloody murder was never really murder.

I never understood the phrase screaming bloody murder. When I was eight, I thought my mom meant that someone was actually screaming the words bloody murder. When I was twelve, I thought my mom meant she wanted to murder someone after hearing the scream. When I was sixteen I thought my mom was trying to be British but without the accent.

Now? Now I get it. Maxfield will scream like he is being fed into a wood chipper if Wyatt knocks over a Lego building. Wyatt will wail, as if he was getting scalped with a hatchet, if Max stands in front of his view of the TV. They both scream like they are being murdered.

Bloody murder.

I appreciate the phrase. I get it's meaning, but since I was once one of the people screaming, I know that 99 percent of the time screaming is not the result of injury or something serious.

No, I try to listen the long moments of silence to know when something is wrong. I will call up from the bottom of the steps. "What's wrong?"

"Nuthin." Max will call from the hallway upstairs.

"What do you mean nuthin?" I say. Which I then follow up with,"You guys have been quiet for 5 minutes now. Who is hurt?"

Celebrity

I kissed Lauren and the kids and I told them I would see them at home in a few minutes. I ran back into the Chuck E. Cheese to get a jacket that I left at a table covered in pizza and cake and presents from the party we just attended. I was a little frazzled. 90 minutes in Chuck E Cheese with a bunch of 5 year-olds will do that. I said goodbye, again, to the birthday boy's parents and headed towards the door.

A woman, who was not with the birthday party I just attended, stepped in front of me.

"Excuse me."she said. "Are you Poop and Boogies?"

I did not recognize the woman. I looked over my shoulder to make sure she was talking to me.

"Uhmmm. Yeah? That's me. I'm Bill." I shook her hand.

"I'm Erica."

Erica told me she recognized Max and I from the blog and that she thought she recognized my wife Gigglepotamus. I asked her if she knew me and Poop and Boogies from someone else, like a friend or relative of mine. She said no. She said she found P&B a couple of years ago through Nilbo's blog and she has been reading ever since. I was flattered. Erica told me she started her own blog a short while ago.

I looked around to see if any of the parents from the earlier party could hear my conversation. I do not keep the fact that I blog private but I don't really advertise it to other parents either; especially the parents of Max's friends. I tried to think if I wrote any stories about the other parents at the party. I realized I hadn't and felt more at ease. Now, I did not care if the other parents heard that I was recognized for my writing. I have to admit being recognized is good for the ego. I felt a bit cocky and was kind of hoping that they would overhear us talking.

Another woman approached and Erica said. "This is my sister Kristy. She reads the blog too. Kristy this is Poop."

That's right. She introduced me as Poop. Now I was hoping that the other parents could not hear our conversation.

They told me they read P&B everyday and that they enjoy it. They were very nice and it was great to meet them. Erica was very funny. Again, I was very flattered and I felt like a small celebrity. Then they told me that due to their Internet security at work they only have access to very few sites and P&B is one of the "four or five sites that gets through the firewalls".

Basically, reading P&B is better than staring at a blank monitor.

I wonder what the other four sites are?

Mean Lady at the Church

I took this picture on Saturday May 2nd at about 11:46 AM. At the bottom of the picture is Wyatt and his cousin Valera playing nicely in the pew in front of me and Valera's mom (my sister) at their cousin's First Holy Communion.

2 Minutes Before That -My sister and I were still fighting some serious church giggles.

3 Minutes Before That-My sister and I start fighting some church giggles at the thought that the people in the pew in front of our kids probably think that Wyatt and Valera are my sister-in-law's kids. We wonder if our sister-in-law is mortified since it is her parish.

2 Minutes Before That-My sister and I start laughing at the fact that we are the Godparent's of one of the 1st Holy Communion recipients. What kind of example are we setting.

1 Minute Before That- My sister and I start laughing. In shock, but laughing.

1 Minute Before That-My anger passes.

30 Seconds Before That-I contemplate how many Hail Marys and Our Fathers I would have to say for committing the action I was just thinking about a minute ago. In Church.

1 Minute Before That- I want to smack the lady in the orange top (in the picture) in the face for treating my kid that way.

2 Minutes Before That -The woman in the orange shirt in front of Wyatt and Valera, in the most hag-like, nasty, witchy way, without warning, turns to Wyatt and Valera, who are two and 4 years old, gives them the evil eye and hisses, "SSSSHHHHHushhhhh." louder than the volume in which Wyatt and Valera were talking. She was flat out mean. Nasty. Shocking.

3o Seconds Before That- Wyatt turns to Valera in a surprised voice and says "I just heard it again. Where did that come from?" They giggle.

5 Seconds Before That - The second ringing of the Sanctus Bells.

1 Minute Before That Wyatt hears the ringing of bells and says in a surprised voice "What was that?" He and Valera start discussing where the bell noise came from.

2 Seconds Before That-The first ringing of the Sanctus Bells.

5 Minutes Before That-My sister makes a comment about how good Wyatt and Valera are behaving in church. I make a comment about how pleased I am with Wyatt's behavior.

15 Minutes Before That-Wyatt does not like sitting with me and moves to the pew in front of me where he can sit with Valera and my sister-in-law and her kids.

5 Minutes Before That-Wyatt finishes all of his distraction snacks and juice.

3 Minutes Before That- We watch the procession of the children making their 1st Holy Communion. My God daughter is the prettiest one.

8 Minutes Before That- My sister and her daughter Valera arrive. My sister sits next to me and Valera sits in the pew in front of us with the other children.

2 Minutes Before That- Wyatt is slightly antsy but behaving himself in the crowded church. He has a new book and sits quietly next to me in the pew.

6 Minutes Before That- Wyatt and I sit in a pew directly behind my sister-in-law (my brother Anonymous' wife) her children, her sisters and their kids.

30 Minutes Before That- My sister-in-law gives Wyatt a new book for him to look at when we are in church.

One Thousand Nine Hundred and Seventy Six Years(give or take a couple of years) Before That - Matthew and Simon the Zealot get a serious case of the "Last Supper" giggles. No one shushed them.

Some Time Before That -"And they brought young children to Him, that He should touch them and heal them: and his disciples rebuked them."

"But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God."

Dictionary dot com's definition of Rebuke.- Verb-to express sharp, stern disapproval of; reprove; reprimand.

I don't think the the lady-in-orange knows this, but she displeased Jesus. Wyatt and Valera were angels and merely having a conversation about the service which is what I think church should be like for children. I know she was trying to be reverent and all holy roller like by trying to shush kids in church but she was just downright mean and nasty. I wonder if I did smack her if she would have been reverent and holy and turned the other cheek.

Jackson's Story

My wife, over at Gigglepotamus, finally posted her story of Jackson's birth.

She left out the part about how awesome and supportive and handsome and funny her husband was the during the entire event.

Book Reviews

There are two books I have been reading and I think both of them deserve some type of review.

The first book is Morning Drive by Michael Smerconish. Smerconish is a Philly based talk radio personality who, in my opinion, gives the most fair, honest and entertaining views on politics and current events. His new book, with the subtitle "Things I Wish I Knew Before I Started Talking", is not only about politics, his positions on certain issues but it is also about how he came to his positions by researching all sides of the issue. The book is also, somewhat of a revealing, insider's take on talk radio and cable news shows.

Smerconish, on his show and in the book, unlike other talking heads, is not afraid to admit that there is more than two sides to every issue (as Michael Scott from Dunder Mifflin would say "I looked at this 100 different ways. Their way, my way and 98 other ways.). Smerconish makes it clear that most talk show hosts and guests will take a (politically speaking) Right/Republican side or Left/Democrat side to an issue on any given show.

I look at politics and political issues the same way I compare colors; it all depends on the light. In one light, gray looks more dark and the exact same gray in a different light looks lighter. For any political issue, news or current event it all depends on who is shedding the light on the topic. Smerconish's Morning Drive does a nice job of shedding the right amount of various lights on each topic and he is honest that the issue is still "gray".

I think what is understated in the book is Michael's drive. From a young age Michael had the drive to get what he wanted. In the book I think he tries to pass off some of his accomplishments as Karma, but I think it was more his determination to be involved, to find the right answers to be the best that he could be that landed him where he is today. His drive to be a lawyer, his drive to be a radio host, his drive to get the right people to talk to. It is understated but it is there.



The second book I have been reading is The Man's Book, The Essential Guide for the Modern Man by Thomas Fink. This book is BRILLIANT. Funny for any man and some woman. The book is a "How to" guide for things like the proper way to tie a tie and how build a tree house and it also has various lists of things that every man should know like the best movies for a man to watch.

The book states that Fink, the author, is a theoretical physicist. The book is full of scientific and mathematical equations on how to determine a woman's beauty or how one should pick a urinal when having to go pee. Fink includes his equations for the geeky/nerdy readers.

The book is broken down in easy to read chapters with sub-sections for each man category which makes the Man's Guide the perfect bathroom book, which in itself, makes sense. I was disappointed that the film Uncommon Valor did not make the 50 essential films for men list but other than that the The Man's Book is an excellent gift for Father's Day or Husband's Day. What? You never heard of Husband's Day...well no one else has either (Husband's Day is not in the book, it my invention) but I think a bunch of wives should get together and organize a day that celebrates husbands.