Workshop

The first Saturday of every month Home Depot offers a free "Kids How-To Workshop". Home Depot provides hammers, nails, official Home Depot aprons (the kids get to keep them) glue and a kit for the kids to build. Their slogan is "Build. Learn. Create." I have taken Maxfield and Wyatt to these workshops (and the ones at Lowes) in the past and we usually have a good time. We have built bird houses, trucks, pirate ships and other wooden type stuff.

We have not attended a how-to clinic in quite a while and Lauren suggested that I take the kids this past Saturday, which I did. The workshop, which has seating for 16-20, people was quite busy on Saturday. When we arrived there was already a 10 minute wait for available space at the work table and a line, of about 8 other kids, formed behind Max and Wyatt.

The build-it-yourself kit this week was a bean bag game thing. The kit came with 5 pieces of wood, 2 bean bags, 10 short nails and 4 long nails. The instructions did not look too complicated. The way I usually handle these workshop kit things is that I get Max started on his project and then I build Wyatt's to a couple of steps past Max's so if questions come up I can be ready to answer them. I got Max started on the first nail and I began to build Wyatt's.

Max was ready for step two and asked me for help. Since I was already on step three, I set up Max's nails for his step two and I continued tinkering with Wyatt's. I tinkered and tinkered. I could not get step three to work right. I looked at the instructions over and over and the pieces of wood for step three would not fit. I looked at all the other parents and their kids and they all were doing fine. I tried to get a closer look at the project of the little girl sitting closest to us but I felt like I was cheating on a test. I think she even tried to shield her assembly with her elbow and forearm and she gave me the evil eye. I started to break a sweat.

Max was done his step two and asked me to help him with step three. It was right then I realized that I put step two together the wrong way. I confused the "right leg" with the "left leg"and although they were identical pieces of wood, it totally made a difference in the assembly. I took the claw of the hammer and I removed the long nails from the "right leg" as well as a chunk of flesh from my thumb. I started to bleed. Not just a little bit, but alot. It was one of those cuts that looks worse than it is because it would not stop trickling blood.

I quickly hammered Wyatt's pieces back together and I explained to Max that his step two was wrong and that I needed to pull it apart so he could do it the right way. He got mad and asked that I not bleed on his bean bag game. I clawed Max's pieces and hammered them back. I got wood glue all over my hands in the process. We all moved to step three together, which again, I could not figure out.

I looked at the instructions and then at the wood pieces in front of me. The instructions, the wood pieces. The instructions, the wood pieces. I shook my head and sighed. I put step two together wrong again. I put the pieces right back the way I had them. I took them all apart, again, while Max and Wyatt protested. I added more glue and I hammered the pieces together. I bent one of the long nails in Wyatt's game and I dropped two nails on the floor, they rolled out of reach under the table. I was very frustrated. People who were behind us in line at the start of the workshop were finished their projects and were heading out the door.

I studied the instructions again as I sucked on the cut on my thumb to prevent the blood from dripping on the table. I got a mouthful of wood glue. I started to work on step three when I could feel my face get flush and my ears burn, I could feel anger rising from my chest.

"Son of a...." I swallowed the last word. "I can't believe it."

I put the pieces back together the exact same way I did the first few times. Wrong.

I could not believe I made the same mistake, not once, not twice, not three, but four fa-ricking times.

I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. I have gutted rooms, dry-walled cielings, re-done kitchens and bathrooms, I even have put together many pieces of Ikea furniture and never had this many problems. What the hell was wrong with me and this simple little game? I was beside myself. Flustered.

Then it hit me. I was holding back due to the room full of children. My mental block, my problem with this do-it-yourself clinic was the fact that I was unable to curse when I messed up.

My DIY motto has always been "Build. Curse. Learn."

Ballgame

Wyatt and Jackson attended their first Phillies Game. It took me 35 years to become a fan of baseball. Now, I love the game. I wish I became a fan earlier in life because of all the conversations I missed out on with my dad and my brothers through the years. I am just now learning some of the science, art, intricacies and nuances of the game, which I may or may not be able to teach my kids. My boys may never develop an interest in the game of baseball....

...unless it involves cotton candy, popcorn, peanuts and soda. I think they will always have an interest in those aspects of the game.

It was a good game. A pitcher's duel which made it somewhat boring for the kids. Not too many plays presented themselves for me to impart my wisdom of the game onto the kids.

We had a good time. We left after the 6th inning when Max and Wyatt took the phrase Fightin' Phils quite literally and started to beat the crap out of each other.
On the way out of the game we stopped to use the restroom and finally a ball park teachable moment presented itself. I had to explain to Max that it was socially unacceptable to talk to the people standing on either side of him, while peeing, at the urinals in the men's room. It is a nuance of the game.

Kindergarten

Maxfield starts Kindergarten next week.

I am a little nervous for him.

Why?


Well, this is me in Kindergarten.







Do you understand why I may be nervous?

Impact

Saturday night Lauren and I attended a wedding reception at the same place we had our wedding and reception seven years ago.

The caterer remembered us. Okay, not really us, but our wedding.

The woman who manages the place, Sharon, remembered us. Okay, not really us, but our wedding. Sharon showed us some pictures from our wedding that she uses as examples to new clients. She told us how she tells newly engaged couples about the picnic settings, the croquet games and Frisbees we had at our wedding and how they were a great use of the grounds. She told us she thinks of our wedding often when she is meeting with new couples.

This made Lauren and I feel good.

Sharon also told us how she has changed the contract she presents to potential clients. Due to our wedding the contract now strictly prohibits silly string, scaling walls, bicycles on the hill as well as a few other minor changes.

This made Lauren and I very happy.

Signature 2

I have been grilling a bunch this summer and over the weekend I needed a refill on my propane tank. As usual I signed a fake name to my credit card/debit card receipt. Since I was buying propane for my grill, I decided to sign my credit receipt as Bobby Flay. I posted about how I always change my signatures on credit cards here.

Cooler Than David Boreanaz

I wrote a list ( here) back in January of some of the topics I wanted to cover in this blog for 2009. Some of the topics from the list I have already written about; some have not happened yet (like winning the lottery).

It has been a good couple of weeks for this blog.

One item from the New Year list happened two weeks ago while I was on vacation and I am just now realizing it. According to Sitemeter (one of the stat trackers I use) I had my 500,000th visit to Poop and Boogies some time around August 7th. According to other tracking sites I have had more than 500,000 visits over the past 4 1/2 years but Sitemeter is one of the easier ones to figure out and to see the 500,000 number on their site was a goal of mine.

Another item from the list, is that I have now broken the 1000th post mark. This post, the one you are reading right now, is my 1001 post. I can't believe it. A quick count shows that Poop and Boogies has also received over 20,000 comments over the past 4+ years. I am sure 9,000 of them are from my brother Anonymous trying to Blog Jack me (I define Blog Jack as when a comment on a post gets more reaction from other comment-ers than the actual post). I want to thank every one who stops by here and reads my blog. Whether you comment or not I can see from the stats that people stop and read what I have written. It means a lot to me and I am very thankful that you read but sometimes getting comments makes the blogging thing all worthwhile.

I heard an interesting story about a somewhat popular blogger who hated when the comments on his/her blog were funnier than his/her actual posts. Apparently he/she would send nasty emails to the comment-ers telling them they had no "blog manners" and that they were trying to steal his readers. I don't know if that blogger still does that but, man...what a douche bag. I welcome blog jackers. The funnier the better. I am so appreciative of the fact that someone actually is taking time to add their thoughts to something I wrote. I should do a better job at acknowledging comments. I like the Bloggess' approach to comments. Everyday she posts "The comment of the day" which is the comment that she thinks was the funniest to her. Maybe I should start doing that.

The other day I was on Facebook and I did a quick search for Poop and Boogies and I was shocked/astonished/pleasantly horrified that someone started a P&B Fan Club. I emailed Alisha, the person who started it, and asked if I could post about the Fan Club here and tell other Facebook-ers to go join. I warned her that my brothers may comment and ridicule the fan club. Her response was "and if your brothers make fun of it, just remind them about how many fan clubs they have. None. "

Alisha, thank you so much for flattering me. Alisha is the "Fan Club Member #001 Extraordinaire" of the Official Poop and Boogies Fan Club on Facebook. If you use Facebook, go and join.

Alisha also told me she is not a stalker and that I am cooler than the other person's Fan Club she was a part of like 10 or so year ago.

I am cooler than David Boreanaz.

It has been a good couple of weeks.

Model

My wife, although back to her pre-baby-pregnant-Jackson weight, was a bit concerned about wearing her new bathing suit on the beach last week.

She told me all the things she needed to consider when buying her new bathing suit, which I did not understand was such a complicated issue. She did not want an "old lady" suit. She wanted a two piece, but not a bikini. She did not want a "mom bathing suit" but at the same time she did not want a suit that said she was trying too hard to look young. She wanted something that looked good but was also comfortable and practical.

Like I said, it was complicated.

We were heading to the beach and I could tell she was somewhat self conscious about the suit.

"I am sure you will look great." I said, "Besides you will sitting next to me and in comparison to me you will look like a Victoria's Secret model."

"Thanks Bill. Its just that..." She paused. "Wait. What? Are you saying I don't normally look as good as a Victoria's Secret model?"

And at that point I shut up.

She looked great.

I sneaked a few pictures of her.

She won't let me post any.

Is it weird that I want my screen saver to be one of those pictures?

Stranger Celebrity

There was the time we left the Hatboro parade in the late 70's. My mom parked the car in the lot behind the retirement home. We couldn't leave because someone blocked us in. We waited for what seemed like hours. Finally the fat lady and the skinny man showed up and moved their car. We were so happy that we created a song at that very moment called "The Fat Lady and the Skinny Man." Not all of my family was there but the story has been told so many times that everyone thinks they were. The fat lady and the skinny man have provided my family with 30 years of a funny memory. Perfect strangers who will never know their celebrity status with my bothers and sisters.

There was the guy in Cape May back in the late 80's who bought my friends beer. My buddy Jeff , underage at the time, gave him money to get a case of Busch. While Jeff and a couple of other friends waited outside the liquor store they noticed that the guy's car had extra antennas and other official equipment in it. When the guy returned with the case of beer Jeff asked if he was a cop. The guy nodded. Jeff asked if he was going to be arrested. The guy said no. The guy placed the beer on the ground and walked away. I was not there but I have heard that story so many times, that sometimes, I believe I was. A perfect stranger who will never know what type of legend status he holds amongst a group of friends. Someone we don't know provides us with entertainment when the story is retold every time we get together.

There was that guy at Mallory Square during the Sunset Celebration in Key West in 2002. He held up a sign that read "Dirty Jokes 50 cents". A brilliant way to panhandle. I gave the guy a dollar and he told Lauren and I two dirty jokes. I gave him another dollar and I asked him to pose with my new wife of only a couple of days. Lauren sat on his lap, he made a dirty gesture and I snapped a picture. Lauren and I talk about the "Dirty Joke Man" all the time. A perfect stranger who will never know that he brings a smile to our faces a few times a year when Lauren and I talk about our honeymoon. He is a small celebrity in our lives and he does not know it.

When we were down the shore last week we stayed in a hotel/condo conversion that had a small pool. The kids and I went into the pool everyday in the late afternoon. We didn't really swim but just relaxed and floated. I made sure that Maxfield, Wyatt and Jackson all had their float-able tubes and what not and I would walk the pool making sure that they each were okay. Everyday we shared the small pool with other people from other units and I had to remind Max and Wyatt to keep the volume down.

One evening in the middle of the week Lauren joined us in the pool. I walked and waded in the pool next to my boys, just like I had the past few days, and Lauren swam and dove under Max and Wyatt, tickling their toes as she passed. The boys were having a blast with their mom. The only other people in the pool were three teenage girls who were chatting against the wall about 8 feet from us so I did not feel like I had to quiet the kids.

I started to feel a little jealous that I was not the one that was causing Max and Wyatt their giggles and laughter. I asked Lauren to keep an eye on Jackson and I swam to the far end of the pool. I called out to Max and Wyatt and said I was going to get them. They both turned towards me as I went under the water and pushed off the wall as hard as I could at them. The force of the wall kick caused my swim suit to slip down to my knees as I swam under Max and Wyatt. I quickly fixed them as I came up for air hoping that nobody saw.

"Daddy!" Max yelled from the other side of the pool. "I just saw your heinie crack. And it wasn't just a little bit, I saw the whole thing and it was really big."

I blushed. Lauren laughed. The three teenage girls busted out laughing. One girl was trying to stifle her laugh while the other girl could not contain herself. They laughed for a good ten minutes.

I am a perfect stranger to those girls and I know that in the future, if they are still friends, they will share a laugh over the guy in the pool with the really big butt crack.

Vacation, Past and Present

Last week we took our first real family vacation. All previous family vacations have either been day trips or treks from Orlando to Philly to visit family.

We went to Wildwood Crest NJ, which is the same shore town I used to go to when I was a kid for two to three weeks every summer. We stayed in a hotel/condo conversion two blocks from my dad's uncle's house, which was the house I stayed in when I was a kid. I couldn't help but point out landmarks and memories to Lauren and the kids.

"Look, there is Sunset Lake where we would go fishing and crabbing every year."

"Do you see that Aqua colored water tower? That was what I would look for to let me know I was close to the uncle's house."

"We used to pool hop there and there and there. And that is the place I lost my big toe nail in 82. It was either John or Pat that opened the door right across my bare foot and it tore the nail right off."

Overall we had a good time and I know that Maxfield and Wyatt had a blast.


At one point during the week Lauren questioned my selection of a certain breakfast item. The item in question was Entenmann's chocolate covered donuts. I bought like 3 boxes of them. There is something about the ocean side salt air that makes me crave chocolate donuts. That and the fact that I remembered that we always had donuts around when we were kids at the shore. Entenmann's Donuts and Cheez-Its remind me of the beach.

Lauren joked that maybe I was trying to re-live my childhood. I laughed it off and told her I just wanted the kids to have a good time and remember the shore as a great place.

When we got back home I was looking through the gazillion photos we took and some of them looked very familiar. So familiar that I went into the attic and dug out an old scrapbook.

Maybe Lauren was somewhat right about me trying to re-live my childhood. Or maybe I was just trying to give my kids a taste of the gift of the childhood I had.

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."

************************************

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?"



******************

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.