Saturday Morning Robin

Saturday Morning Robin

Saturday Morning.
Yardwork. Mowing the lawn.
A Robin in the grass.
David runs over.
We dig up an earthworm.
David quietly puts the earthworm near the Robin.
David sits on my lap and waits.
The Robin sits on the fence and also waits.
A big Robin. Big white rings around his eyes. All alone.
It is quiet. Sunny. The smell of fresh cut grass.
Dirty hands.
David sits quietly. Anticipating. We whisper.
Maybe he is an old Robin?
The Robin hops down off the fence.
The Robin pecks. And picks.
And eats the earthworm.
We sit and watch.
The Robin goes back to the fence.
David moves slowly.
Another earthworm.
David sits on my lap and waits.
Quietly.
The Robin also waits.
Blue sky. The musky smell of compost. Fresh cut grass.
The Robin hops down off the fence.
Eats another earthworm.
We sit and watch.
The Robin goes back to the fence.
We sit. Quietly.
The Robin flies to a branch in the tree.
Up higher. Out of sight.
Must be full?
We sit. Quietly.
No more Robin. No more earthworms.
Yet we still sit.
Quietly.
The breeze in the leaves. Fresh cut grass. Dirty hands.
Blue sky.
Saturday Morning with my son.

I wonder, Saturday Morning with my Dad?

How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days

My sisters called me and made fun of my Valentine's Day blog. Jealous.
But got me thinking I might need to even the balance of sappy with the balance of reality...

I know - you two , um, now it might be three; three very special people in my life, read my blog and totally believe I live this totally romantic, rosey life of Dadmanhood. (insert snickering sound coming from my nostril)


I came home today, walked in the house, took a look around, turned right back around and grabbed a beer from the fridge in the garage. I took a deep breath and wondered if it was safe to return....

After sneaking the pics, I sat down at the computer. Behind me I heard repeatedly in this chalkboard-like screeching tone, "Hey, Supper's ready. Write THAT down in that stinking blog. NO BLOGGING BEFORE SUPPER. WRITE THAT. SUPPER'S READY."

Hell hath no fury...

It's a Multiple Choice Quiz:

A. Oh, how cute. We have kids. And hey, look, they still live here.

B. Holy Crap Batman, Was there an explosion? Where is your Mother and your Nana? Are they OK?

C. (...use your best Eyeore voice...) Sigh. See, THIS is why I drink...

I'd write more, but now I'm told I need to re-heat my supper.

Sunday Morning's Breakfast

This Sunday morning's breakfast is a Road, a Bridge and a long hard day at The Factory!

My Funny Valentine

My Funny Valentine

My Radiant Glow. BumBum. Furnace Butt. Sweeeeeety. My Little Heartless.




Holding your hand is like the most amazing thing to me. I love your hands. Your little pinky in particular. But your thumbs, your thumbs are the best - I love the shape of your thumbs - so shapely and elegant, yet strong. Early on, I hoped we would always be together because you have hands shaped like my Gram; there is a comfort, a love, a permanency when I think about the love that my Gram and my Grampy had - and I wanted that. Especially with You.



Ever care for somebody so deeply, you want everything to be perfect, all the time, and when it's not, it feels scary and dark and hollow? And when it is perfect, the greens and the yellows and the sunlight is so vibrant it is almost blinding?




Remember the days when we'd find a little tavern or a pub window and sit for hours, talking, dreaming and laughing? We'd make other people sick?

There is nobody I would rather take a road-trip with, than You.

Remember the night we got engaged? You cried? And then threw up? I watched Sportcenter while you slept in kitty-cat pajamas? Oh, the romance.



So many late nights when I couldn't sleep, I'd watch our wedding video and you looked like an Angel. Your smile made you float. You were so beautiful you were almost blurry. Why in the world did you fall for a goof like me?

Ten Minutes. Six Seconds. Being my Navigator. Being Sappy. Silly Poems. Crossing the Line.

Coming home to you is like going on Vacation. It still feels like we are Dating.



You are my Best Friend. You make amazingly beautiful children. You Warm me. You excite me. You are Beautiful and Radiant.

My Funny Valentine. I love You.

Real Quick

Just a real quick smile:

On Saturday, with the whole birthday party and bouncy house party thing all built up, Michele asks David, "Do you know what you get to do today??!!""

And David's eyes light up, all big and anticipating.. and he says, all excited and so sweetly and passionately,

"HOMEWORK??"

The Stories Our Fridge Must Tell

I opened the fridge a lot this weekend and I got thinking what if aliens invaded the earth and vaporized us? What could they learn about us if they walked in and stepped over our pile of vaporized ashes, deciphering all the clues on our refrigerator doors? (I'm not sure where all this alien thinking came from, but it may have been from stepping on something sharp and alienlike in David's room at 4am witha full bladder.)

Hhhmmmmm, "What kind of story does our fridge tell?"

So rather self-consciously, I took an in-depth look at our fridge. These are doors I open everyday, many times everyday, and I really have no clue about what this fridge tells others about our lives. We have people over pretty often - what kind of message is our fridge telling others?

Turns out our fridge was not only telling others, it was screaming .

• Clutter. Wow. We must love clutter.

• Anything deemed a choking hazard is above 32" from the floor. We must have a 10 month old.

• We like Milano's Pizza and Chan's Take-Out Chinese and according to the expiration date, we were interested in The Fondu Pot Restaurant in 2007.

• Somebody in this household has been to Aruba and Mount Washington and Bermuda and Coastal Veterinary Clinic and Beaches Pediatric and yikes, what, the Poison Control Center? Oh, wait, No, we just saved the phone number. And even though the hours for St. Paul's Catholic Church are handwritten and held by the letter C, I do not think anyone from this household has actually made it to a St. Paul's Mass, regardless of their sincere New's Year Resolutions. I'm guessing I might very well may be going to hell.

• For some reason, David's school picture is upside down; Michele looks pretty hot in a summertime pic with her blonde hair; and my sister's family looks real bored having their picture taken against a brick wall. There's even another picture of Michele and her big hair from the 80's that I just won't let her throw away. Oh yeah, baby.

• According to multiple coloring book pages, David cannot stay in the lines but he's way cute trying. David also drew some people and it's amazing how David's people look like what I imagined the aliens in that Orson Wells story to be.

• There's a cute pic of Josh with braces and an amazing picture of Josh catching a Gitis aka, "Dude, You Got Mad Hops." We have a bunch of family pics on the fridge and surprisingly, none of them are current.

• Very important: You need to stand sideways to call The Poison Control Center. And if you want to RSVP to Gage's Birthday Party this weekend, you will also need to stand sideways. (And hey, according to the number of invites - how is it that so many four-year-olds were born on a Saturday between 12 and 4??)

• Just how long do you ethically keep a 2008 magnetic Calendar?

• Matthew has a Doctor's appointment 3 months ago on the 15th. According to the Bright Pink Calendar with the Brown print, David will be "Searching For and Observing Bugs Outside" during school tomorrow. (Next week will be Indoors, I wonder?)

• By the styles of magnets, you might think that we like kitty-cats, dogs, hula dancers, Corona, palm trees, the color green and witty sayings about Sisters and a particular saying Nana finds witty about Sons. I looked for something meaningful about Frisbee or The Meaning of Life, and found nothing. (The Frisbee Shaped-Bottle Opener as it turns out, is on the fridge in the garage)

• Anything less than 32" from the floor is chewable and has already been sucked on, spit on, drooled on, chewed, run over by a walker and replaced. Anything not replaced is under the fridge and cannot be reached by a chop stick.

. It also appears we like to save the Winn-Dixie coupons, but never use them. We could've saved $110.00.

• But the biggest picture of all? The biggest picture, taking up the most room on the fridge? Screaming out to our friends and neighbors? It is a picture of David. A big ol' picture of David with a big ol' smile with a big ol' pair of Underwear on his Head. Just what image are we trying to send to our friends?

I am beginning to think that The Refrigerator is the Window to One's Soul.

I am beginning to think that scares me.




On a side note:
This is one of my favorite words: UFLATION

Definition: The act of opening the refrigerator door and standing there, staring, seeing what has materialized in the last twenty minutes.

A Typical Day-In-The-Life

So I get home, at a decent hour for a change I might add, and the house seems relatively calm. Supper is cooking, David is in his room, Matthew is in his high chair and seems content. TGIF.

I go into David's room and pick him up for a big hug.
Put me Down.
Huh?
I'm in time-out. You need to put me down.
Time-out? Mommy says she doesn't believe in time-outs.
I know. It's not fair. I was playing with Matthew and then suddenly I'm in time-out. I have no clue. Shoulders slumped. I try and put him down, but he doesn't even put his legs out, like he's not even allowed to stand. He must be in big trouble.
This is the most regular, almost adult-like conversation I've had with my son since he calmly discussed and pointed out where poop comes from.

Matthew begins to cry. Matthew has a wicked case of diaper rash. I don't use the word "wicked" that often, rarely out loud, but yes...Wicked diaper rash. Poor kid. Plus he's teething thank goodness. I only say Thank Goodness, because at first, only his top eye-teeth came in and he looked like a vampire. One of The Lost Boys. It scares me. Finally though, he's finally getting his other teeth in and I don't care about how much pain and discomfort he is experiencing - Michele's been sleeping in fear in a turtleneck for a few weeks now, and I miss the feel of her neck. But anyway, this diaper rash thing has him all raw and cranky.

I give him some Daddy time but all he ends up doing is grabbing my b-er,um, my beverage bottle and swings it around and sprays the walls, my jeans, my shirt and everything on the kitchen table. I break his hand away from the bottle (No, I did not break his hand...sheesh, people) and then he claps. Gosh I love it when he claps, but as a particular perplexed Dadman I don't know what to do. If I make a big smiley happy to-do about his clapping, then every future ice cold hoppy beverage may end up being licked up by a thirsty dog from my groin. (did that word cross the line?) If I freak over the spilled hops, then I risk him never clapping again. Oh the struggles of a hop-filled parenthood.

Got me thinking about a few months ago and thought I'd share what life was like when we brought Matthew home from the hospital.

A typical Day-In-The-Life-of-Matthew:

3am Feeding. That's Michele's turn.
5am Hand off to Dad and we watch Sportcenter on the couch.
6am Feeding and local Channel 4 News. He has a thing for Casey Black. Matthew does, Michele, not me.
7am Matthew sits quietly while I shower, feed Ruby, Feed David and pray David doesn't climb in the playpen and pull his arms out of their sockets.
8am Daycare
8am - 5pm God only knows. And God only knows how expensive daycare is. Ugh. You'd think the kids are at the Playboy Mansion.
5:15 Feeding. Somehow Michele singlehandedly feeds Matthew, feeds David, feeds Ruby, does laundry, makes supper, vacumes the house, knits an afghan and puts a beer in the freezer for me when I get home.
6pm Hand off to Dad in preparation of the "7pm Meltdown."
7pm All hell breaks loose. Gassy, rigid body. Loud crying. Doesn't want a bottle. Doesn't want to sit in the swing. Doesn't want to lay in the playpen. Doesn't want a margarita intravenously fed into his arm. (I knew we should have that pick-line!) Meanwhile, David goes on this caffeine-like spazz attack, his hearing shuts down and he flushes the toilet repeatedly, tossing in everything within reach, minus the shower curtain and Matthew's poopy daiper. Thank goodness..
7:30 David's in Time-Out. Matthew has succumbed to being wrapped tightly in his blanket and rocked against Dad's bosom (manboob) until he looks like an angel and is peacefully whispering, "Daddy is my favorite," in his sleep. I swear it sounds just like that.
8pm Dad is on his fourteenth beer and Michele comes out of her locked room with the Law and Order marathon on TV.
8:15 Daiper change
8:16 Dad wonders if it is spelled Daiper or Diaper.
9pm AHHHH Matthew is asleep. David is in bed. It's just Michele & me in peace. AHHH...
9:01 seconds Michele says good night and leaves Dad on the couch.

And then it starts all over again!

The Tuesday Belated Round-Up

Time has flown by. This is not so much a blog entry as much as a quick, random Hello. It's been tunnel vision - working, staying warm, eating, drinking and playing Dad, Husband and Son. Time flies when you are all three. Throw in a few good bottles of wine with friends, a few fun projects around the house and a few good games on TV (Go UConn! and, Wow! Whatta Super Bowl!) and the last couple weeks have flown by. The guilt is building though - a few stories are still in rough draft and have remained so.

So - just a random catch-up of random things, randomly listed in no particular order at all....?

Matthew. Matthew has not wanted to go to bed. It's getting later and later and he will not go to bed. He acts tired. He sounds tired. But he just will not give in and go to bed. Just when I think he needs his Daddy...he buries his face into my shoulder, and as I rock him side to side, he gently begins to fall asleep. Until he sees his shadow on the wall and he thinks it's funny to begin waving his arms and he begins to laugh and dance... His packsifier is then spit out, which of course bounces its way to 6 inches out of my ever-freakin reach under the bed, which, by the time it is retrieved is then covered in enough Ruby-dog-hair you could wig an entire small underdeveloped nation...which then makes Matthew begin to cough, which gets David up, who of course comes running into the room because he doesn't want to go to bed either and then sees our shadows "dancing" which he finds as the perfect opportunity to shake his poopie-butt and sing Shake Your Booty which makes Nana come out of her room to see what all the commotion is about at this late hour, who then needs a latenight snack and then eats the last piece of apple pie which I didn't hide and then Michele yells out we are making too much noise and she can't hear Law and Order....

David. Yesterday morning David brought 4 books with him into the truck for the ride to daycare. Yes, four books for our short little ride to daycare. It's not like we have a long commute and he has time to read even one book or even half a book, because, for one, he can't read; and for two, we live only about 11 blocks to daycare. "Daddy, I am bringing these books to read in the truck. I don't want you to drive fast, is than an idea?"

Michele. I feel bad. I think I came up short this weekend in the Loving Husband Category. We had company over for dinner Saturday night and Michele made the house sparkle. It was all cozy and amazingly clean. Her Spanish Rice was the best. And what do I do? Among other things, I think I made more of a big deal about how she didn't dust a shelf above 6' than I did about how nice everything looked and tasted. With everything going on (aka Life, Work and Errands), I feel like I haven't even seen her for a couple weeks. I miss her.

Nana. We have plants, we have flowers and we have paint. Bless this woman. We have a Nana to watch Matthew. We have dinner most nights to take the pressure off Michele. We have beer. We have a full fridge. Nana is a very giving person. We love her.

Work. Phew. Work is a roller coaster ride. We may have new owners. Yesterday, I believed we had new owners and I felt the most secure I have in months. Today, it turns out, it is not a done deal. Thankfully, I have a decent workload and have managed to get through each day with tunnel vision and have done my best not to worry. I save the worrying for when I am home - especially during the 3am - 5am time period. I could really use a piece of apple pie right about then.

Food. A highlight this weekend was a salad I read about in Real Simple Magazine. (How sad, I just called a salad a highlight in my life at 43 with a wife and three kids...) Just a description, no pictures or anything, but enough to get me salivating and crazy enough to try. We made a "Ruby Red Grapefruit, Avacado and Shrimp Salad with Tarragon and Dill, served with a Spring Herb Dijon Vinagarette Dressing" and it worked. It is SO fun to play in the kitchen - especially when you don't make your guests go home with the feeling of spiders crawling in their stomachs. We also turned a slow cooked Chuck Roast into Beef Tacos which is a pretty unique meal for us. I love food.

Friends. This weekend, we had friends stop by just to say Hello and we had Friends over for a nice dinner. We love that. We even had Friends call us to say they hadn't seen us in awhile and missed us. Feels good in a sappy sort of way.

Weather. More cold, raw weather is predicted for most of this week - but I know, I know, it is nothing compared to north of here. Nana has the plants inside - it's not quite the same as a fireplace, but it still ups it a few notches on the Interior Coziness On A Cold Day Scale.

Family. Big Hugs to my sister and family who are about to lose a horse to "fodder" (?) and a healthy Husband/Dad to deployment. Our Love SO goes out to them. Congrats to another sister that just got a new job. Big Wow to a Bro who flew an airplane for the first time and to his Brave Son who lived to walk the Earth again.

Nana. I knew I forgot something. Or maybe I'm just trying to block something out. You've heard the saying, "Thrown like a rag-doll?" Um, Hi Family....Yes, she's fine. On Saturday, she helped me load a couple of large rugs into the truck to take to the carpet store to get cut and bound to size. The rugs are large and didn't fit well into the back of the truck and it was taking some doing to get them secure. It's not like I was using the F-word or anything, but I was getting pretty frustrated and I stood up, trying to figure a better way to get the blasted things secure. And then, yes, one of these blasted things rolled off the truck and caught Nana, spun her around and threw her to the concrete. Like a rag-doll. I swear to you, she is fine, and I swear to you I never saw it coming. Amazingly scary. I am so glad she is okay. At least now I know what she can take, and now there will be no holding back when I've had it up to here with her sh** - - -oh wait does she read this?? Seriously - It was a pretty scary thing. I'm glad she's okay.

I just caught the clock - Deep Breath. This is a prime example why my blog has lacked in the last couple weeks. I worked 12 hours today and now it's almost midnight and here I am playing freakin-blog-editor...for what? The two people who actually read this?

One of whom is my very sensitive, and very special sister...(who writes and photographs much better than me!)

Big Hugs.