Merry Christmas

I've sat here staring at my blank computer screen for a while now - trying to come up with the perfect things to say about Our Christmas.... I've been staring for quite some time... Seems I can't just wrap it up with a few cute magical (er, shallow) things to say...

So picture the scene: try to envision me at the computer typing this, with bad breath and a itchy, hairy dog at my feet:

I am dressed in Jaguars Flannel Pajamas that I got for Christmas... love them... the boys keep running in, vying for my attention, which has turned into a game: I yell, "RRAARR!" and David yells back, "Louder!" so then I give it all I've got, "GGGGGRRRRAAAARRRRRR!!!!" Matthew's eyes will pop wide open, he then looks at David to see if he should be scared or not. Then David shrieks like a little Donkey Girl Scout and runs out of the room on his hands and knees and Matthew looks back at me to see if I am really THAT scary. I'll simply shrug, which sends him running out of the room LAUGHING like a little Donkey Girl Scout, while trying to imitate David's girly, high-pitched screams...and then they both fall down in the living room and come running back for more.

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We keep doing this over and over and it keeps getting louder and louder... (Michele is in the other room, turning up Law 'n Order louder and louder)

One time they came running in, they sat down and I tried to be funny. As they waited for my loud boisterous scream, their big eyes locked into mine, waiting... I quietly whispered "Boogie Woogie Oogie" to see what they would do... David cocked his head to the side, like," Huh?" and Matthew, who never lost eye contact with me, stuck his finger up his nose... at first I was confused... he's not even two years old... I didn't get it... Then I suddenly burst out with such a laugh, that they both ran into each other and fell down on top of each other, not knowing whether to laugh or cry..."Boogie? Booger?"

(Matthew, Where's your Eyes? Where's your Chin? Where's your Boogers?)

So I'm thinking, kiss that magical, er, shallow perspective of Our Christmas good-bye... I'm having a blast making my boys jump and scream and laugh like little donkey girl scouts. This is what being a family is all about.

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We're driving Mom crazy.

Merry Christmas

Christmas Nativity

Above our Nativity Scene are 5 Christmas Balls.

Dad, Mom, Josh, David & Matthew.

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Christmas Magic - The REAL Version

REALITY

Ok. Me? A little defensive? Whatever.

I was told my Christmas Magic post came across "sappy and forced." Did you think so too?

I actually liked the magical aspect and the touching perspective I wrote from.

But I've been told my gift is writing Humorously... (you mean Shallowly?)

Ok then. Reality. Christmas Magic. As it really happened.... kind of... here's a sarcastic snapshot into our lives on Sunday Morning, decorating our Christmas tree...

Dadman had a headache and diarrhea. Woke up to a crying child at 6:30 am. Coffee didn't even taste good. Fed the kids. Fed the dog. Fed the kids again a second time because they never like what I give them the first time...Mom sleeps peacefully with the door shut, with sugar plums dancing over her freaking blissful head.

Youngest child continues to cry and has green snots coming out of his nose.

Dadman watches Sportscenter to appear knowledgeable at work on Monday.

David eats a Bologna & Cheese Sandwich for breakfast.

We have all day... aaahhh... wouldn't it be great to decorate the tree "TONIGHT, Not right now? Wouldn't it, wouldn't it?" says a very lazy Dadman.

"Nobody is going to tell me what to do and when I can do it," says a defiant Dadman to a particularly uninterested boy staring blankly at a SpongeBob cartoon...

It appears a particular Mom can read a particular Dadman's thoughts, even in her sleep...

So Mom wakes up. We are NOT waiting until later to decorate the tree. Crying Child is sent back to bed. David changes into matching pajamas for the camera. Dadman empties the garage of the Christmas boxes and totes. A particular Dadman desperately wants a beer.

David begins to hang the bulbs.

It's like a WWF Headliner: "5-Year-Old-Curious-George-Pajama-Boy versus The Old OCD Parents!"

Screaming ensues. "Spread them out!" "No not There!" "More Silver Balls to the back!" "Higher!" "No, Lower!" "David, they are all grouped in one spot-what are you thinking?" "Are you even looking at what you are doing?" "No, let me hand them to you!" "David, come on now, you know that they don't bounce - go get a dust pan!" "Ruby, get away from there!" "David, get your father a beer!"

Mom stands in the kitchen, knowing she can't enter the ring. She never completes a directive: "David, Not ther...." "David, put it over th..." "David, there's an opening near th..." "Let your Father hel....." And then, "I can't take this anymore, how do you do this every year? I'd become a clock-tower sniper!" "This is why they invented Bloody Mary's!"

And then after about 13 beers (please know I am kidding), 14 broken bulbs (please know I am being sarcastic), and one partridge in a pear tree, (what the heck does that mean anyway?) Dadman realizes the need for pictures, which means a whole new line of screaming ensues, both at David to pose properly and at Mom to angle the pictures properly and then, OMG what were you thinking "making me look like that?"

This particular Dadman's face is bright red, blood pressure is hovering 198/140 and I just know the sleeping child is about to wake up, walk out and pull the decorated tree over on top of his head because David put all the pretty silver balls within his 19-month-old-reach...

The tree stand leaks... the Angel leans forward... Bulbs fall and shatter in the night....(please know that most of them really are unbreakable plastic and only roll under the couch out of our reach until January 13th, when we take the tree down)

But you know what?

Just before David caught himself from falling off the arm of the couch and into the tree trying to hang the very last ornament...he smiled and sincerely said "It's the best Christmas ever..."

That's the magic I'm talking about...

It's pretty sneaky stuff, that Christmas Magic, huh?

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Christmas Magic

Christmas Magic

It's sneaky.

It can't be December.

We don't want it to be December already.

Even the meaningful things in life feel so far away...like family...

...or a sufficient bank account balance...

It can't be December...

And yet...something happens.....

Something Magical happens....and you wish you could capture it on film, something that will last, just one picture, that takes you out of yourself and into the eyes of a child....

And then you realize...you are watching...already watching through the eyes of your own child.

...through the eyes of your own child...

I'm thinking the spirit of Christmas Magic, is the Christmas Magic.

..and how it sneaks up on you...

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Happy Thanksgiving

Dear God

Today we sit before you and give you thanks for your generosity and for the lives you've given us.

Thank You for your blessings and for this feast today. Thank You for our homes, our family and for our friends that have become family.

Thank You for our health, our work and our play.

Thank You too for the simple things, like the beach and our gardens and the warm sun; for being able to sit and read, or to sit and just watch our children.

Sometimes we forget you are there - Thank You for helping us even then - even if it means we make it just one more day with our heads above water and to still be with the ones we love.

Thank You for bringing our family and friends home safely from war.

As we sit here, blessed to have this meal before us and a roof over our heads, please send help to those who are hungry, alone, sick and suffering. Help open our hearts to your love, Lord; may we find ourselves better off in the year ahead, where even we can help those in need, like the many that helped us in our own trying times.

We humbly as for your continued blessings, through Christ your Son, Lord Jesus Christ.

Amen

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My Ruby Girl - Intro

I'm a Dog guy.

Not fond of cats, but if the cat struts like a dog, then that cat's okay. I'm a dog guy. Not a fish guy. Not a parakeet guy. Definitely not a snake and lizard kind of guy. I did have a guinea pig once, named Yazstremski, but even really cool guinea pigs can stink things up pretty good. I prefer dogs.

I don't like little dogs that yip and eat panties and prance. I don't like dogs that need to be tied to a tree and kept outside. I don't like dogs with different colored eyes that stare and growl. I am a frisbee guy, but I don't want a frisbee-dog. I prefer my discs without bite marks.

I am a big-brown-eyed-dog-kind-of-guy.

I've been lucky. I've had some great dogs.

Growing up, our family always had a dog. Belinda. Lucky. Nani. Good dogs. Well, wait - Nani, which means Pretty in Hawaiian, was a good dog, but not very well behaved. She was a German Shepard and if she got past you and the front door was open, she'd bolt. I didn't like that about her. Even as much as she felt like she was "my" dog, I hated roaming the neighborhood for her. But we had this routine each night, when she'd hear me say it was time for me to go to bed - I was in high school - she'd get up, head down the hall, check in on my brothers and sisters and then meet me in my room to go to sleep. She slept on my bed. My room smelled like Nani. Not particularly a good thing. But I loved Nani.

We also had a chicken - a big Rhode Island Red name Chickee-Poo, and she and Nani were like Best Buds. Chickee-Poo was way cool, and was almost dog-like, herself. I have a picture somewhere of Nani laying down and Chickee-Poo up on top of Nani scratching her fur like chickens do in a barnyard. But we were in a suburban neighborhood in a backyard in Sacramento.

My next dog was named Gitus. Gitus ate Chickee-Poo. Seriously. And, No, we are not going to go there.

Then came Shanda and Roselyn.

Shanda was a shepard mix and a true "Lady." Roselyn was a Lab/Irish Setter mix and a freak of nature. But in the best possible way. What an odd pair they made.

When I brought Roselyn home as a puppy, it was supposed to be a big surprise. But I think coming home late from work during an ice storm, covered in thirteen rather large piles of dog puke, was really the big surprise.

Shanda had been abused as a puppy and spent most of her puppy months under a porch until we got her. She became my Lady. She never hid under the deck with us, except when Scary Uncle Tom house-sat for us, but that's a whole 'nother story.

Shanda became the best dog I thought I could ever, ever have. She really was my Lady.

And then came Ruby....

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More to follow...

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San Diego

San Diego
The Beach Stylers
Ocean Beach, CA
Nov. 14-15, 2009

Wow.

Talk about amazing.

Thank You PK & Murf.

I also connected with BT from Connecticut, whom I haven't seen in at least 10 years. That was Huge.

What an amazingly fun weekend spent with Friends that feel like Family.

Big ZZZ's.

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San Diego

"Friends Don't Let Friends Drink & Dial"

About a month ago, my good friends Murf & PK were at the AZ States Frisbee Tournament. My phone rang, and forgetting the time difference between here and there, I answered.

Two hours later, my phone rings again. When I am asked if I prefer an aisle seat or a window seat, I am convinced I am going to San Diego.

Scared as hell, I wake my wife..."bring me back a Koozie..."is about all she said.

Wow. A month later, here it is. I leave tomorrow afternoon for a Frisbee Tournament on the beach in San Diego.

Friendship.

There is SO much I want to say...

Yet, I am completely at a loss for words.

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The Sea & Sky Spectacular

The Sea & Sky Spectacular
November 6-8, 2009
Jacksonville Beach
Featuring The Blue Angels

Murf was here. Happy Birthday PK. We love you Grandma Kenny. Dinners were awesome. The winds provided hein jams. The Margaritas and Guacamole were the best. The Boys had a blast.

Including this one. What an excellent weekend.

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Blogger Hibernation

I've been told for many many years, I should "write."

I've always loved the idea, felt I was an articulate writer and even though I didn't know all the past tense, present tense, sub-context yadda yadda yadda, I felt somehow I learned how to write in an organized, interesting-to-read sort of way.

But this blog taught me something.

"A writer writes," once said Mark Twain.

I don't write. I think about writing. I like thinking about writing. But truth be known, I feel like I have learned something here and maybe I am not a writer.

Do I have what it takes? I've asked myself that ever since I began The Dadman Diaries. I gave myself the chance; the benefit of the doubt.

Answer? I don't believe I do have what it takes. At least, not right now.

I won't simply delete this blog or close out this blog. I love the name, and I love the opportunity to share our family amongst family.

But I am thinking an answer might be that I am going into Winter Hibernation. No pressure to write about something that is something it is not. If I wrote about the regular everyday stuff - well, then you've already heard about it when you called.

I'll probably publish a post here and there, but without the pressure to do so on a regular basis - so feel free to get curious and check back every now and then.

Big Hugs. Huge Smile.

Happy Blog Retirement?

Nah - just Blogger Hibernation.

10/24/09

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The Eyes of a Five-Year-Old

The Eyes of a Five Year Old

So I found this card - it's pretty funny in a silly sister-of-mine-sort-of-way:

This cracked me up. This is SO my sister's sense of humor.

I bought the birthday card. I drove it around in my truck for a few weeks... It sat on our counter for days. A Garfield Calendar once said, "Never Put Off Until Tomorrow, What You Can Do The Day After."

(hey couldn't that SO be my Mission Statement?)

I've read this thing like 20 times and it cracks me up EVERY time. Michele has even read this card maybe...50 times...because I keep saying, "Here, Read this! This cracks me up everytime!"

(Especially when she's trying to cook supper, Matthew is crying, all tangled up in her feet; I'm on my third beer and we are all crowding her in our one-butt kitchen screaming, "Here, Read this! This cracks me up EVERY time!) She is never amused.

But this is October - my sister's birthday was in September - and oh hell no, I am not about to carry this card around with me for another 11 months...

(Because, if I did - I'd find it again a year and a half later on top of the refrigerator under the potato chip bowl... Note: Can't find a particular return address torn from an envelope? - this is where you need to look if you are at our house)

I contemplated cutting this card in two and sending the cover as a Postcard. A particular other sister of ours recycles Christmans cards this way as Thank You's. Very creative. I love the idea.

David grabs the card tonight and looks at it for the first time.

"AWWWW this is funny - look! They have BumBums just like us! Look at their BumBums!"

Michele and I stare blankly at each other.

Silly kid. Can't even read. How'd he get the whole "hiney bee" joke? And we send him off to bed.

Silly kid. Figures, you know our kid - he'd turn it into a poopie-butt thing...

About a half hour later I go to put it on top of the fridge, under the potato chip bowl... and "Oh wait a minute! Michele, LOOK!"

We are still laughing. We are SO mailing this card to my sister even if it is not her birthday.

Gotta love what a five-year-old sees - and (yikes!) What we don't!

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A Little Something About How Things Change

This morning, David is bringing toy cars out to the patio. Matthew is imitating him, but empty-handed. Following in his footsteps, jibbering away - like he is talking, but not making any sense whatsoever.


I'm drinking my coffee, book in hand, but it is SO unread as I watch the two boys, interacting, sharing, scolding and leaving to bring back more toys they thought of, but did not elaborate clearly enough for this adult to understand.....somehow they both knew....

I got thinking, if I ever do die before them, I'd want a chair set aside for me, because the BEST THING IN THE WHOLE WORLD is just sitting back, watching them be themselves. It is way cool. I do this most Saturday and Sunday mornings, and it is the BEST.

Today, Matthew stops halfway through his third or fourth trip and raises his arms. This is his signal to pick him up. Typically, Matthew is the restless type; a quick hug, armpit tickle and he's off to the next dead bug or to see what's been put in the garbage can in the last 10 minutes.

This time though, I pick him up and he puts his head back, against my shoulder and just rests. Let me say that again, Matthew just rests... he sits there, quietly. Looks at the trees, listens to the airplane overhead and points to the gecko on the fence...and just sits there....I can feel his heartbeat... and he just sits there...


Big deep breath.

Sometimes I feel a sense of loss, like I am looking for a renewed passion in life at my age to replace my previous passion. And selfishly I want the new passion to be even better than the previous passion because, well, because it just should and then my Life would be Complete and Happy, ya know? Selfish? Mid-life crisis?

Yet...something as simple as my son sitting with me, resting, his head back, all comfortable, and doing it long enough that I can feel like it will last forever, is something amazing. It is an amazingly cool feeling.

I am beginning to realize, as much as I want to fight it, that things change. Having kids is fulfilling; just watching them gives me a sense of completeness, a sense of fulfillment, but in a completely different, surprising way.

Is it fair to ask, as a Father and a Husband and a Man to let go of this question of Passion? Realizing that all the previous passion in Life was the path that got me to the state where I am now?

And I am actually now complete and fulfilled?

It is a hard question to answer. .. Sometimes I think the answer is a convertible Karmen Ghia and a bottle of Tequila. Wifeless. Kidless......

Most times though, I give up asking. This particular Dadman goes and buries his nose into his son's armpit until he laughs like he's crying, and then he goes inside, argues with the wife and just hopes that all that fulfillment and completeness crap is right around the corner....

Please tell me - Does any of this make sense? Does anyone else ever question all this stuff?

Will the Red Sox make it to the World Series?

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Dadman is a Goof 092809/8:47am

Ever get that pit in your stomach? That pit you can't quite figure? That pit in your stomach that tells you something isn't right, but you just can't put your finger on it?

Like you are driving to work and something doesn't seem right? Like maybe you left your coffee cup on the bumper? Or your cell phone on the counter? But you keep driving, because you are drinking your coffee and can see you haven't forgotten your cell phone?

Ever get halfway to work and that pit in your stomach is now screaming at you so loudly, that you actually de-cellerate and look in the rear-view mirror?

And you see your son in the back seat - that son you forgot to drop off at Daycare?

Oh boy...

Discovering One from the Way-Back Machine

Finding a Smile

Ever go through something scary and then discover "feces occurs" and You will go through something like this every so often in the years ahead? Ready or not?

I experienced something this week. At first, I thought I was having a stroke. Well, maybe not "at first" but by the end of the day, I secretly laughed out loud at my distorted face wondering what in the world was going on.... could it reeeeaaallly be a stroke? My face was broke. I could not spit.

I did not have a stroke.

Ever hear of Bells Palsy? I had not. Now I had.

It wasn't like a brush with death, but needless to say...

Later that night, in the silent of darkness, sitting at home, looking for meaning, my own meaning in life, I found some old pics and slideshows I thought were long lost. It's like finding a Smile. A really big Smile. And Meaning. Really Big Meaning.

I put in an old CD from 1977 and the teary smile was complete. I found Cecilio & Kapono's Night Music and I had it on the loud side. Nice memories.

I created this "movie" when David was almost two years old. This movie is all David. Matthew is almost 2 now. It is creepy how much they could be each other at this age. Matthew is not in this. Note to self: Label those pictures!

I feel beaten down. I wish some days for the ever-lovin'-take-me-now-heart attack and then I find things like this and I just want to crank the music and thank the Lord I did not die last Monday. Seriously and thankfully, this was not a stroke.

Amazing what the body can do under stress. .. . It seems silly actually. Whatever.

Here's a big ol' cheesy smile for my readership of 3 that smile when they think of me. Gotta love The Muppets. I actually have this CD in my truck right now, but I promise it is there for David, not me. Matthew even shakes his head side-to-side during the Ow-Ow-Ow song...just like David did - creepy, huh?

Yeah, I'd like to stick around.

Go hug your dog. Hug your kids. Wash your wife's dishes.

Give Nana a Big Hug. An extra long one. Nanas need Smiles too.

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Breaking Mommy's Back

Breaking Mommy's Back.

You've heard it before... "Step on a crack, break your Mommy's back..."

Being David's first year of big-boy-school, it is only fair to teach him to avoid the cracks in the sidewalk, otherwise his Mother is doubled-over in pain with a broken back.

It is like a Father-Son bonding time. It is the Best.

Each morning we walk into school, avoiding cracks, holding hands, laughing, oohing and aahhing over how close we come. "Poor Mommy," he yells when he misses and steps on a crack.

But on Tuesday this week, I laughed out loud. Goof!

After avoiding "Cracks That Break Mommy's Back" on the way INTO the school, I dropped David off at his classroom. .

Big Hug. Big Kiss. And then I began my walk back to my truck.

On my way OUT, I, me, yes ME, all by myself shuffle-stepped over a crack and jumped up and over another set of cracks in the sidewalk.

Please tell me nobody saw me do this?



Goof!
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Summer 2009 Reduced to a Random 10 Minute Slide Show

Here are a series of random shots taken this summer in no particular order. This summer really was a blur. We've been blessed to have both friends and family come visit the beach and yet this is such an incomplete slideshow. I wish I had SO much more to share!

I look back and I am so sorry I did not write more and keep up.

Summer is over. Over? Is it REALLY September already?!

I'd also like to apologize if it sounds like porno music to you by the band, Particle.

Big Hugs.

And be honest, did you REALLY sit through all 10 minutes?!

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Nana's Pico de Salsa

Nana's Pico de Salsa

Nana's Garden turned out some beautiful hot peppers. Everything else pretty much died. Excessive heat, excessive rain and an uncontrollable wave of tomato worms pretty much tore the garden apart. But the peppers were hot and plentiful. For this recipe, fresh from Nana's Garden, I did get to use about 20 hot peppers, 1 tomato, basil, and oregano.

Salsa anyone?

My sister's blog about canning kind of got me fired up. Of course I did not follow any instructions and just went with what felt right at the time.

Nicknamed, Nana's Pico de Salsa, I had some with lunch today. I'm still typing. I'm not perculating. That's a good thing.

Thank You KD for the inspiration, Thank You Nana for the high hopes of having a garden and ruining an hour of every evening of mine since May. kidding!

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Included in this recipe for Nana's Pico de Salsa: Habaneros, Fresh Tomatos, Fresh Cilantro, Fresh Basil, Fresh Oregano, Granulated Garlic, Grilled Red Onion, Grilled Red Pepper, Grilled Green Pepper, Grilled Corn on the Cob, Lime, Lemon, Balsamic Vinegar, Worchestire Sauce, Cumin, Chili Powder, Celery Salt, Corse Black Pepper, Sugar and Sea Salt.

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As well as one 18-month-old boy attached to my leg, one hungry Golden Retriever hoping I'd drop something other than a spicy vegetable, and a number of Yuengling Traditional Lagers to carry me through. Sister Hazel's new release aptly named "Release" kept me in the groove. This recipe, truly looked good, tasted good, smelled good and sounded good in the making.

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The Hands-On Museum for Children

David and I spent Saturday at the Hands-On Museum for Children. If you are keeping track from an earlier post, this is on David's wish list of things to do together.

He went to this place on a summertime daycare field trip and has been asking to come back since then. I've been a little unsure about him returning - I'm a signguy - and I swear to you, their sign says, and I'm sorry I do not have a picture, but I can find one, their sign actually says, and this is for real: Hands-On Children Museum.

I'm a little creeped out okay? But we go and I bring my camera for state's evidence if it is needed. It wasn't.


As much fun as David had, it did not take long to realize - this is not a museum. This is a rather large play area - an expanded indoor play facility; a themed play area; somewhat educational, and SO lacking a necessary bar for the parents.

The place is broken up into themed environments. Clean. Organized and through the eyes of a brand new 5-year-old, a really cool place to run crazy and play pretend. David really did have a blast. (Dad really did need a beer.)

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However...

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Watching David through the eyes of a 5-year-old's imagination was priceless. There is something amazing as a parent to watch their child be their own person - and this place did just that. There was no sensory overload. There was a nice mix of real-life stuff with indoor playground stuff. David had a great time. It accelerated conversation. It made him ask questions. He acted 2, he acted 10 and he loved acting 5. He made me laugh out loud and yet he, too, he surprised me with insightful questions or pretty smart thinking. Things like, as a fireman, he put cones out to stop the traffic so the firetrucks and the rescue trucks had a place to park. Pretty smart thinking for a 5-year-old holding a stuffed Dalmation.

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We had an excellent time together. He is a gift. I loved our conversations. I loved our laughs. I loved that he acted with respect and listened to adults. (Including ME, amazingly!) Seriously though, we really did have a great time. I know its only been a week of Kindergarten, but he LOVES to learn. It is amazing to witness. It was a day I did not, seriously, did not want to end.

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Today was a special smile.

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Happy Birthday Leonardodalulu

Today is my sister's birthday - the youngest one - the Holly Hobby, Strawberry Shortcake, Little House On The Prairie Sister.

KD is the sweetest. KD is the truest. KD is so amazing.

Everyday, a piece of me wishes, maybe envies, that I could bring more into my life that KD has everyday in hers. Its not easy for me. She does it all with such grace.

Character. Family. Integrity. Honesty. Love. Marriage. Trust. Selflessness. And a hidden sense of humor that can make me spray beer bubbles out my nose or make me cry at her insight. Sometimes even at the same time.

KD is a very special human being.

Character. KD is Genuine. Wholesome. The girl next door.

Family. Kids from college to toddler. Amazingly gifted, sweet kids.

Integrity. There is something about KD that as her brother, I measure myself against. Hard to explain.

Honesty. She may bite her lip, but if someone asked her if she ever told a lie, I would truly not be surprised if her answer was, "No." (But then she'd share a zillion hysterical "Little White Lies" that she says don't count)

Love. I so admire her love for her Family, and for her Husband. It's huge.

Marriage. I know you can't read a book by its cover, and sometimes there can be many things behind the scenes we may never know of - but when it comes to Marriage, there is a purity, you might say, about their marriage. Married out of high school, small town school, well rooted, never rich - she married a man I even hesitate to spend time with, because in my own insecurities, I feel inferior. Her husband is an amazing man, an amazing person, an amazing father and truly an amazing husband.

Trust. I sincerely feel that I can go to my sister anytime, tell her anything, about anybody, and even confide my own misgivings about any situation, and it stays with her. She may just be the only person I know I can truly trust like that. I fear my other family members may start to say," Hey - what about... - oh wait..." and then realize they probably feel the same way about her.

Selflessness. Something tells me she puts her husband, his job, her family all before herself. Although, God forbid she finds a pile of vintage fabrics and no money in bank ...

And the hidden sense of humor?

When she was twelve she mailed me a bunch of shredded cotton and said it was toe fuzz. She began to call me Leonardo. I have no idea why. Still don't, but she still calls me that. I mailed her back a scab off my knee. She was totally grossed out, but deep down, I think she kind of liked it and we've been trying to out-do each other ever since.

One time, my Grammy, God bless her, was climbing the stairs for the first time to the second floor in KD's old farmhouse which she and K just bought. Out of breath, in her 70's. This was big. KD calmly walks out of one of the bedrooms buck naked and just stands there at the top of the stairs like it’s nothing. I know, that story scares me too.

KD is my motivation to write.

KD is extremely talented in sharing her life in a humorous, touching way with such meaning. I inspire to write as gifted as she does. I'd probably use more descriptive words like poopie butt, explosive diarrhea and drooping boobies, than she normally would though. Not to say she's not capable.

We used to email a bunch back and forth between family. She would get so mad when I would take one of her emails, and re-write it, totally taking it out of context and sending it back to the family. I would laugh so hard I'd have such explosive diarrhea out of my poopie butt that my drooping man boobies would jiggle. (see - I say it - not that funny - KD says something like that and it is hysterical. I SO wish I could write like her)

So as any big brother would do...

She wrote a very nice list on her blog, commemorating her 37th Birthday. Very touching, humble and heartwarming. Of course, I have re-written it. In her honor, on her 37th Birthday, because I love my Leonardodalulu so much...

1. Today I turn 37
.2. My boobies don't feel different
3. though I found a few gray hairs on them recently.
4. This past year I have discovered many new growths on myself.
5. This could not be a good thing.
6. I feel more twisted and deranged than I ever have
7. Though I am very shy. Slut..
8. It’s okay to be gun shy--
9. I just learned this.
10. I like spots, I am not shy about peeing.
11. I like to play hard (and win). (I didn't re-write anything in this line. heehee)
12. My husband is deployed and I miss him every minute of the day.
13. Really I do. (OK - I especially didn't re-write lines 12 and 13, how could I?)
14. I like learning about my butt.
15. We had our first child when I was 12.
16. The oldest child is in Westview Retirement Community Hospital and the youngest age two.
17. If we eat out the waitress will ask, “are those reeeaaallly your boobies? they are just so divine! Just one check?”
18. and I want to say yeah duh, these are that way because of my kids.
19. But I don’t.
20. They are freckly
21. and need braces
22. I tivo Dr. Ruth everyday
23. Blue birds are shot at regularly with a BB gun on my property
24. so are Jehova's Witnesses
25. I have never had a black and bitter, like I like my women, cup of coffee
26. or a beer poured down my cat's teets and into my mouth at a kegger
27. but I like to think I might someday
28. I like to laugh at my brother's amazingly great and wickedly hilarious sense of humor every minute of every day
29. My sister can make me laugh until I feel like I will pass gas out of my tear duct
30. Once many years ago we were shopping and I sneezed/farted
31. It still makes us fart together in unison
32. I wish I lived on a sprawling ant farm with seahorses and sheep herders.
33. With a large old draft horse
34. and a vagina that smells musty when it rains
35. I worry too much about my brother saying vagina .
36. I count the days until K comes home
37. and we are all together again, living a life SO much better than what’s going on in my brother's sick, humorless head

I'm sure that anyone reading this has already read her blog - but if not, I hope she doesn't mind if I share freckledhen.blogspot.com with you.

Big Hugs, KD, Happy Birthday,

Leonardo

A Right Hand - Left Hand Test

A Simple Observational Skill To Tell if Your Son Will Be Left Handed or Right Handed

Hint: David is Right Handed

.

Happy Birthday Uncle J!

Today is my Uncle's Birthday

He is an Uncle that feels more like an older Brother.

yet

He is an Uncle that makes me feel like I am a Son he never had.


There is something about my Uncle J that makes me wish I was closer to his age, so I could be his friend, like an equal. Or maybe even younger, so maybe he'd spoil me like other Uncles who spoil their nephews.

But seriously, I really would opt for what we do have.

He loves photography. I love photography. But he is an amazing photographer - I will always try to take better pictures because of him. I critique every shot like he is over my shoulder.

photo by J. Fitts

He loves nature. I love nature. But he goes out and hikes far more often than me - I will always cherish even my slightest moments in nature so much more, because of him.

photo not by J. Fitts - but by this very Dadman

He loves kayaking. I love kayaking. But he kayaks so much more than me, in far more beautiful places than me - I will always view my surroundings and see the beauty so much more, because of him.

For some reason, I always finish a kayak trip with a dark beer. I got to share a couple of dark beers with him once after a paddle on the Cape - it was 10:30am when we finished and I still remember how nervous I was asking him if he wanted one. (Turns out, Uncles you look up to, can still make you feel like a little kid, especially when you ask if he wants a beer in the middle of the morning!)

He loves to read. I love to read. My favorite books are narratives about adventure or travel - we have exchanged many books and shared many titles. I might live 1400 miles away from him, but every book I read, still today, I wonder if it is a book he would enjoy.

He followed a dream. I am a dreamer. His dream led him to Cape Cod and it was not easy. He gave me hope that dreams can come true - but helped me realize that it may not be easy.

He has been married for God knows how long. I've been married for nine years and sometimes it feels like for God knows how long. Shortly after moving to the Cape, my Auntie J fell off the deck and broke a hip. She is bed-ridden for over a month. Nothing in life can prepare you or your marriage for something like that. My Uncle J and Auntie J are still married. Wow. I think about that a lot when I wish my own wife would fall off a deck, any deck, and break her neck - er I mean - hip.

I think about my Uncle J a lot more than he probably ever knows. As much as I felt like such a little kid around him years ago, the older I got, the closer I felt; like we could share more things in common.

As an adult, I've always thought of him as doing things 10 years younger than I feel, being 10 years older than I am and then learning tonight, yikes, that he's actually 20 years older than me! I feel worse about myself than when I did sitting down to write this!! I am SO not making fun of his age - I am respecting his youth!

Relatives never know their relatives like their own friends know them.

To me, our shared moments all these years, I've never has felt like "equals" - Uncle J is deserving of so much more - he is someone I look up to as a person, someone I respect and admire. (Sorry for the pressure - I hope that does not burden you) He is someone I hope my children will turn out to be like as adults. (Hey - didn't I tell you - we're dropping the kids off on Tuesday and picking them up next February?)

There is a quality within him, a likeable, respectable, "down-to-earthable" quality about my Uncle J that will remain through our generations - even though he and Auntie J never had children of their own. There is something special about him that all my brothers and sisters feel - no matter how much time passes between visits - the quality from within him shows and we can't wait to see him again.

OK OK He's a pretty special guy - we get it - Happy Birthday Uncle J!

In his honor: Go UConn! Go Red Sox! Go Pats! Hey! Keep my wife away from the edge of the deck! And what's the temperature outside? Are my Truck Nuts supposed to be Blue or Red?


Til our next paddle together, whenever and wherever that may be - I'll have 2 cold dark ones for us afterwards --


One Very Proud Nephew

...

Big Boy Goes to Big Boy School

The Big Boy Goes to Big Boy School

Checklist includes:

. One Really Bright Sun in My Eyes, Dad!

. Collared Shirt (Very Itchy)

. Flashy Incredible Hulk Backpack with Blinking Red Light

. New Shorts (Very Itchy)

. New Lunchbox with Really Cool Snacks

. Back-to-School Haircut

. Lunch Money (What? I don't get Baloney & Cheese Squares?!)

.

. (1) Cheesey Grin

. And (1) Attitude that says, "Dad, I'm a Big Boy Now, Gimme a Week, And I'll Have That Teacher of Mine Wrapped So Tightly Around My Finger...I'll Own This Place!"

.

Something tells me with those sweet baby brown's of his, he just might be right.

.

Welcome to Big Boy School, David!

...

A Humble Return

No Promises. Only Hope.

This summer has been a blur - I SO let it get away from me.

Trying to make a difference as a Dad, as a Husband and as a Son is way more difficult than I've imagined.

Some fathers have a gift. I'm not that lucky. My gifts are my children - it is not the other way around.

David is the king of seeing a toy on TV and screaming I Want That and reminding us everyday for months on end that it is on sale at KMart and we can get it for him because KMart is open 24 Hours in most of our State's Counties.

On Friday I picked him up from school, his first official week at Kindergarten, and it was not the TV List of Toys I heard, but a sincere Wish List I heard, in detail, that about broke my heart:

1. I want you to take me to the Hands-On-Museum For Children
2. I want you to take me to the beach and fly my Kite
3. I want you to teach me to ride my bike without the training wheels
4. I want you to play Baseball with me

Tonight we sat out back and I asked him, if I could build him any kind of fort, any kind of fort at all, like a rocket ship or a pirate ship or a castle, what would he want?

He wants a place that has lots of stuff to touch and learn about, like a museum, where he can feel like he is floating in space with the planets and where he can dig dirt and touch a dinasour bone.

Now that's a tall order!

I thought about the floating in space part and asked if he knew about gravity. He said yes - to my surprise.

What is gravity then, oh-so-smart-5-year-old-son?

And he hugged me. He fricken hugged me.

...

Family Vacation

We leave in the morning for a family vacation.

I've been on a lot of trips before, but I seriously dont think I have been on an actual "family vacation" until now. Nothing work related; no signmaking; no frisbee tournament, no nothing except a chance to relax and see friends and family.

I might return more exhausted than when I left!

Wow. It's the Middle of Summer Already?

I can't believe I have been so busy and so behind in my writing. The guilt is unbearable. Call me at 4am, I'm awake...

I invite you to go through my older posts - my thought might be to scroll back to my original posts and re-read your way forward.

We have a few more busy weeks ahead with company visiting and our trips away. More fuel to the writing fire I hope.

In the meantime, please feel free to check out a couple of websites:

www.jacksonville.com
This is the website for the Florida Times Union. Hit the Local News section and scroll through the pages until you find the story about Flying Discs. Sunday July 12. Be sure to check out the photo.

www.oceanactivemag.com
A new online magazine with great potential. Read the story about Paul Kenny and see pics and video that include a particular old and crusty frisbee Dadman. Also, check out the Humor section and the link to Contributors. I feel much younger until I see myself in the mirror.

Happy Summer!

Where Does the Time Go?

Sometimes it is hard to sit down and write. I started this blog, thinking, hoping, that one of the best results would be, that I'd hone in on my my writing skills and my discipline....except I think my writing got worse and my snapshots got better.

Another Round of Reasons Why I Haven't Written?

1. It's still 80 degrees and Sunny at 8pm. Even at 8:30 it is still pretty bright and warm.

That usually means we haven't eaten dinner yet and the kids are still awake. Then blame the NBA Finals, Baseball, Sportscenter, NASCAR, The French Open (who knew the time difference?) Plus the Red Sox have been on FL television, which means it is 11pm or later before I know it, and then I wake up at 3am with one of those info-mercials on TV about "extend-zing one's manhood," if you know what I mean...and I just hope and pray my wife doesn't walk out just then for a glass of water, just as I am waking up, thinking I've been awake this whole time and this is actually what I am watching at 3am, all alone on the couch in my jammies without any underwear on.... When you are worried about stuff like this, who has time to write?

Where does the time go?

2. David does not breath between sentences. Not being able to get a word in edgewise and every other word is still Poopie-Butt is actually exhausting. Where does the time go?

3. Matthew is walking. Matthew likes to go around the house and one item at a time, pick them up and bring them to me and say, "Thank You." You should see his smile. I pile them up and then do the same thing back to him. Where does the time go?

4 & 5. We have a garden. We have a garden that needs water...that needs Miracle Gro Tomato Food from milk jug number 1... that needs Miracle Grow Singles for Vegetables from milk jug number 2...that needs Organicide Bug Killer from milk jug number 3. Yet we have worms. Inchworms or tomato worms or whatever the hell you want to call them. The leaves look like swiss cheese. I pull off worms in the morning, I pull of worms in the evening, and then again before I go to bed. Where do they come from? How do I get rid of them? Poor Nana's Garden. I'm trying, I'm really trying. Where does the time go?

6. With Nana gone and two kids now in Daycare, it's like taking an Instant-Poverty-Pill. It is amazing how expensive daycare is, and I know you've probably heard it from me already, but as much as it costs, you'd think they are spending their days at the Playboy Mansion. We have friends in the same boat. What are the answers? We just don't know. Where does the Money go?

7. We all made a bet - with Matthew going back to Daycare, I said, "Two Weeks - Two weeks and Matthew is home with an ear infection..." I was scoffed at. I'm not actually sure what that means, but I heard a sound, and I thought, "That sounds like scoffing." Turns out, I lost that bet. Yup. Within ONE fricken week, the kid is put on anti-biotics for two infected ears. A week later, he's got Croup - that horse cough that originates deep within his chest cavity and forces one to miss another two days of expensive Playboy Mansion Tuition. Joy. His nose is still running to this day. I look over in the morning and he's blowing bubbles out his nose. Big ones. I 'm proud of him, but nonetheless. Who's the one making scoffing sounds now?!

8. I get home tired, Michele gets home tired... and the kids? Wired. Sometimes I hate words that rhyme. I haven't swung a golf club in over a year. Where does the time go?

9. Friends. The best reason to move to the beach is so all your friends will visit. My Gramp used to joke that you found out who your best friends were, when you bought a pick-up truck. But moving to the beach has been a blessing; having friends and family actually use us as an excuse to come see us is a great thing....oh wait a minute...is it really the beach? Not even a little bit us?

We love having friends come visit. JeffO is here for consecutive weekends with his family - they have two absolutely beautiful, precious girls - precious that is, until you hear them playing baseball in the front yard...heehee - It has been so much fun having them here. Looking ahead, almost every weekend has something planned from now til September. We don't mind that. We like that.

And then suddenly it becomes Monday morning again... Where does the time go?

So there it is - my futile excuse for not writing in a week.

On top of that, my book light is broken and now I can't even read at 3am when I am wide awake and tossing and turning and thinking about bills and those other bills and those upcoming bills and past bills...but...most importantly...tossing and turning and thinking about what should I blog about....??

sheesh...

...Notice I didn't even include any snapshots in this blog.

See?

Where does the time go?

.

Graduation Day

David graduated from VPK on Thursday. He is only four years old, cannot add 2+2, but evidently, this needed a ceremony and a cap and gown and cake and punch and parents needed to miss work.

David doesn't get it either...

Thursday was the "Last Day of School."

You mean, I don't go to school tomorrow?

Yes, You do. But it's not school anymore, they call it Summer Camp.

His eyes bug out big. I have to sleep there?

No. I'll drop you off and Mommy will pick you up.

Just like school?

Yes.

Will my teacher Miss Jennifer be there?

Yes.

Just like school?

Yes.

Will I learn things? And do art?

Yes.

Just like school?

Yes.

And play? And learn about spiders and tornadoes?

Yes.

Just like school?

Yes.

Um, Daddy?

I know, I know, go ask your Mother. I don't get it either.

I know I'll take some heat for this, and maybe this is harsh, but looking at the value of his education, this wasn't school, this was Daycare for heaven's sake!

.

His graduating Class of 2009 had six boys and two girls. He's been bitten by two of them, bit one of them himself and went potty with one of the girls and got in trouble for pulling his pants down in front of her. Seems it is a close-knit community here at the beach.

Oh well, at least he graduated.

----------------------------------------------------

I'll share a few pics from the over emotionally charged event of a lifetime:

There's our handsome boy! All grown up!

The graduating, handsome, all grown up boy even led the class in the Pledge of Allegiance, a particularly proud Dadman did notice. He got to hold the American Flag all by himself he told us later, like we weren't even there.

Deep down, sincerely, I am smiling and proud. OK?

Make that picture as small as you can, a particular Mom said to me.

David was lucky to have Miss Jennifer as his teacher. I think she had pretty high hopes at the beginning of the school year. David really likes her and says, "Miss Jennifer is nice to me."

When it was his time, David did a "Monster Walk" with stiff legs and arms outstretched when he went to get his Diploma...

---------------------------------------------------------

I am quite proud of him. He's a sweet kid, a silly kid, an inquisitive kid. He is a puzzle-freak. He is still shy, but loves an audience. He's handsome. It's really the first time I've seem him in front of all his classmates, aside from just playing on the playground. But yes, as a whole, - the girls are way smarter and more mature at this age!

I've said it before, but it keeps getting more apparent - Being Four is an amazing journey. May God continue to bless his little soul.

----------------------------------------------------------

Wait....

Yikes, oh boy, it appears it was my kid who spiked the punch...

.

The Pacifier Hunt

The Pacifier Hunt.

An unspoken reality among frantic parents at bedtime.

The Search for Matthew's Pacifier...



There are no two things more important in life.



It is not under the couch.



It is not under the loveseat.


At work when we lose something, we argue whether to pray to St. Ignatius or St. Anthony. I say it is St. Ignatius.



...We can't fricken find it under the fricken entertainment center.


...After about an hour and half, seriously, it is amost 10pm, still no luck.

Now it has become The Great American F*n Pacifier Hunt.

...We emptied this like three fricken times. We shook the crib out. We tore apart the playpen.

...No. It is not in the flowers with the police car and the geckos.



...And, Hell No, of course it can't happen to be in the ferns with the fricken Lego piece.



I hear Michele scream out for like the 10th time, "We have 17 fricken Pacifiers and we can't find ONE??!!"


Never answer a woman using that tone. "Sixteen," I yell back. I thought I was helping. "Nana found one in her purse when she went to Texas!" I swear I heard glass shatter.


DAVIDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What the h*ll is all this we found under your bed????????????????????



......I stare at the toilet. I've been in here at least 3 flippen times, looking through his tub toys. I glance back at the toilet... He must have. I cannot think of any other possibility. There is no hope. I am sure he's flushed it, and it is halfway to Miami by now.

I have emptied the garbage. I have emptied my truck. I have lifted every major appliance and every piece of heavy furniture within our entire household. I have screamed at my wife. I have screamed at the dog. Michele might even be on the roof, I just don't know.




Suddenly I realize there is an absence of noise. Silence. I hit my head from under our bed.

.

I hear an excited, taunting whisper..."Who's your Hero Now?!...."

.

Michele is my Hero.

.

But do I think it is time we hire a housekeeper....