So today I was trying to set up an alternative Twitter account since the amount of sports related people I follow has gotten too cumbersome and complicated to link with my supposedly "professional" teacher account that I use to send out little updates for the 3 parents that follow me that don't really need to because, not coincidentally, they have very organized kids that keep up with their work.
So anywho Twitter has a spot where you can link your blog. So I googled up "Ramblings OF an Average Guy" so I could add the link. I found not one, but two blogs of that title. One guy even wrote a book of the same title available on Amazon. So I guess I truly am average. Average enough that two other dudes feel the same way that I do & also feel the need to take up precious internet space which should be devoted to curing cancer or solving the world financial crisis (shout out to Greece!). I guess from now on I'll just go to that other guy's site & cut & paste (the second site had no posts; I guess that dude had a great idea & forgot how to get back to his site or got hit by a bus or something).
So to all of my fans and followers out there (shout out to Heidi & Mindy - HOLLA!). Remember, it's Ramblings From an Average Guy, not OF. Y'all spread the word, the TV networks are bound to be knocking any day now.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
Rambling #6 - Don't Hit a Cow, Man!
So it's been awhile since I've dipped the ole' quill in the inkwell and composed my thoughts. The end of summer was, well, the end of summer. Nothing new happened. August brought the start of school, a return to a busy schedule, and no time for aimless ramblings. Not that anything too exciting happened anyway. My 7th grade classes are like they've always been; nice kids that talk a little too much.
Well the middle of Sept. brings the 2 things that excite me more than anything (other than my wonderful family, shout out to the wife & kids!), college football and hunting. The college football season has gone according to script so far: ranked teams beating up on directional schools. Tomorrow is the first real test of the year for my Ags so we'll see what mood I'm in after that. The hunting, on the other hand, has been outstanding. We've been blasting the lil' tealy birds every time out & they've been as fun to eat as they were to shoot.
That all changed this morning. Today was the opening day of dove season. For the last few years I've had a group of 7-12 guys that I've hooked up with an outfitter. We all meet bright and early on opening day to meet Mr. Dove Guide at whatever country gas station is near the field we'll be hunting that day. We get up at some ungodly hour, meet at Trini's house, pile into trucks, and drive out to the country only to stand around the Shell station parking lot for an hour with 100 other middle aged men dressed up like trees. Then we make the world's most boring parade of 30+ trucks, head to the field, and sit around for hours hoping that the "symbol of peace" will fly our way so we can blast it into oblivion. Most years there are plenty of birds & I get lunches for a week along with some good guy time fun.
Today was different. We hit a cow. No, literally, we hit a cow, at 50+ MPH, A black cow on a black road in the black of night at 4:30 am. It was a ninja cow. Sucker came out of nowhere. One second, empty road, next second Black Bessie on the grill. I was in the passenger seat which took the brunt of the impact. Apparently the back end of Bessie wrapped around the passenger side, took out the rearview mirror, shattered the window, & evacuated every ounce of last night's dinner before bouncing 20 feet into the ditch by the road. The airbags went off, the truck skidded to a halt, and we all counted our parts.
As I opened my eyes & saw the collapsed airbag I could feel a burning on the right side of my neck, wetness on my face & arm, and a sense of relief that I didn't have a cow sitting on my chest. I fully expected to have that sucker's hoof jutting through the now smashed windshield. It turns out the burning was from the airbag & the wetness was from the cowpie shower that came through the smashed window. Luckily a police officer was 20 away as he'd been spotlighting the other loose cows in the field on the other side of the road. An incident report was filed, wrecker called, cow poop wiped off, shirt changed, gear loaded into the trucks, and we made it to the Shell station in time to stand around the parking lot with 100 other middle aged men dressed like trees eagerly awaiting the opening of a new hunting season.
p.s. didn't shoot any doves but that's okay, I think I'll have burgers instead
Well the middle of Sept. brings the 2 things that excite me more than anything (other than my wonderful family, shout out to the wife & kids!), college football and hunting. The college football season has gone according to script so far: ranked teams beating up on directional schools. Tomorrow is the first real test of the year for my Ags so we'll see what mood I'm in after that. The hunting, on the other hand, has been outstanding. We've been blasting the lil' tealy birds every time out & they've been as fun to eat as they were to shoot.
That all changed this morning. Today was the opening day of dove season. For the last few years I've had a group of 7-12 guys that I've hooked up with an outfitter. We all meet bright and early on opening day to meet Mr. Dove Guide at whatever country gas station is near the field we'll be hunting that day. We get up at some ungodly hour, meet at Trini's house, pile into trucks, and drive out to the country only to stand around the Shell station parking lot for an hour with 100 other middle aged men dressed up like trees. Then we make the world's most boring parade of 30+ trucks, head to the field, and sit around for hours hoping that the "symbol of peace" will fly our way so we can blast it into oblivion. Most years there are plenty of birds & I get lunches for a week along with some good guy time fun.
Today was different. We hit a cow. No, literally, we hit a cow, at 50+ MPH, A black cow on a black road in the black of night at 4:30 am. It was a ninja cow. Sucker came out of nowhere. One second, empty road, next second Black Bessie on the grill. I was in the passenger seat which took the brunt of the impact. Apparently the back end of Bessie wrapped around the passenger side, took out the rearview mirror, shattered the window, & evacuated every ounce of last night's dinner before bouncing 20 feet into the ditch by the road. The airbags went off, the truck skidded to a halt, and we all counted our parts.
As I opened my eyes & saw the collapsed airbag I could feel a burning on the right side of my neck, wetness on my face & arm, and a sense of relief that I didn't have a cow sitting on my chest. I fully expected to have that sucker's hoof jutting through the now smashed windshield. It turns out the burning was from the airbag & the wetness was from the cowpie shower that came through the smashed window. Luckily a police officer was 20 away as he'd been spotlighting the other loose cows in the field on the other side of the road. An incident report was filed, wrecker called, cow poop wiped off, shirt changed, gear loaded into the trucks, and we made it to the Shell station in time to stand around the parking lot with 100 other middle aged men dressed like trees eagerly awaiting the opening of a new hunting season.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Rambling #5 - the lazy days of summer
Well I've got about 2 more weeks left of Daddy Day Care until the school year starts again so it's time to reflect back on what I've accomplished with so much free time.......(thinks for about 8 minutes). Well, that's depressing, all I can come up with is that I stained my deck and that took over a week instead of the usual 2 days. I do plan on switching insurance companies so when that happens it will be a major moment in my life but that's in the future. The issue has been these little people running around the house. They really demand A LOT of attention. And even though they are 3 3/4 now and can play independently for short spurts I still feel guilty if I'm not there for them. I think I created two little monsters at the beginning of the summer when I really put forth the effort to make it a productive summer. I think it was a Monday in the second week of the summer when this was my day: made bead necklaces, sand pictures, science lesson with magic sand, finger painted, swam, and I reorganized the playroom before going to work 4 hours at summer league basketball. I created too many expectations. I should've just started out by putting up a gate in the playroom, turning a Dora DVD on continuous loop & tossed in some Cheerios every few hours. Here's a more likely day at the end of the summer, microwave yesterday's cinammon roles, turn on a movie, hope the girl that comes for swim lessons takes a really long time, find another movie, and hope that the wife gets home early.
It's not really that lame, but sometimes I feel it is. The problem is that they've discovered dolls. Someone had the audacity to "donate" their entire collection of Barbie crap to us. Not just a few dolls & some disco outfits, no, I'm talking an entire Barbie hotel, a cruise ship, a 10 gallon storage bin of a thousand little plastic Barbie accessories that are all missing at least one piece and 3 naked Barbies. Yes, naked. Nana had to go buy clothes so my daughters wouldn't go through life feeling entirely inadequate from not having 44-18-32 measurements. Twin #2 has really taken to them. At least 6 times a day I hear, "DADDDDDY! Play Barbie with me." Now the first 74 times it was just darling. Stereotypical "AWWWW" moment when I happily plopped down in front of the plush pink Barbie hotel & merrily followed along with whatever little scenario played out in her creative little mind. Now....just the idea of having to pick up one of those plasicisized Jessica Simpson recreations brings on a daze to my brain like an overdose of Demerol. My method for doll play has become: lay a pillow on carpet, rest head, extend arm with doll & move around a bit while trying to catch a few minutes of stupor until I hear, "No Daddy, do this."
Problem is, the fact that I've come to disdain playing with dolls has filled me with terrible guilt. That's what they want to do, dangit, so I just suck it up & do it. I know that in 10 yrs. I'll be wishing they were asking me to play so I'm gonna take advantage when I can. Sometimes it's okay. Today they dolls learned to fly so that added some excitement. And if it wasn't 107 degrees every day this summer I'm sure that we would have done some amazing outdoor activities (I did put a tent in the back yard for 3 days but all that did was kill a nice patch of grass as it was actually 140 degrees inside the tent). So It's back to being on call for Barbie or dinosaurs or whatever other doll type toy they can come up with. Oh, gotta go - they want me to read a book!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Rambling #4 - Everything is broken
My house is 11 yrs. old. Apparently, that equals about 40 in human years because just as when I hit 40 and my body decided to systematically break down, my house and everything in it has decided to do the same. Before the summer started I thought, "Yay, no daycare payments so I can actually start to get ahead on some of this debt!" I guess I thought too loud because in a preemptive strike my 5 yr. old pool cleaner pump went out. Bam, $500. The main pump must've gotten jealous from all that attention so it died also. Bam, another $500. The fancy pool computer control board couldn't handle the shiny new pumps so it croaked for the third time in 5 yrs. Bam, $1000.
My house Air Conditioner unit sits right next to the pool equipment. It noticed the pool guy coming every other Tuesday and thought, "I'm a big, noisy, mechanical thingy that they can't live without and yet they haven't had any sweaty guys with name patches on their shirts come see me - time to gets me some o' that" PFFFT - evaporater coil bit the dust, or rust in this case as the genius that designed it didn't seem to understand the process of corrosion that occurs when two different metals are in contact. Since Al Gore has scared the HVAC industry into using new coolants that will melt the Polar ice cap at a slightly slower rate, we had to replace the whole shebang. Two sweaty guys with name patch shirts gave the ole' AC their full attention for an entire morning and one even fell down my attic steps to add to the excitement. Bam - $7000!
The pool stuff & AC are located over on the side of the house but I was stupid enough to roll the pressure washer by the shiny new pumps etc. so he could see them. He made it halfway through spraying one window before he quit. Cause and cost still undetermined as I believe I will hone up on my man skills & try to tackle this one before eventually taking it apart to the point that I don't know how to reassemble it and then have to take the parts to the lawn equipment repair shop. They know me there as I've taken in my lawn mower, er, pieces of my lawn mower, twice now. While I'm there I can get them to fix the fuel lines on my blower, almost forgot about that piece of busted equipment.
Not to be outdone, the grill thought - why should I be happily heating up his meals while everyone else is taking the summer off? So the brand new gas regulator went bad. My highly anticipated medium rare venison steaks grilled to perfection quickly became dried out pieces of pan fried shoe leather on the stove.
I almost forgot about the vehicles that decided that their belts were no longer in style and started squeaking to let me know they wanted new, more fashionable belts.My truck got tired of squeaking for months so it finally just decided to blow hot air instead of AC. When I still wouldn't pay it attention it just up and died in the middle of the road. At least I could coast into the entrance of my neighborhood. A 4 hour ordeal of taking out the battery, recharging it, reinstalling it, and restarting the car later I figured it was time to replace the serpentine belt and the broken AC compressor belt. After studying up on how to replace them on YouTube I thought I'd save myself a few hundred bucks. And I did, instead of the 5 minutes it took the guy on the video it took more like 5 hours, 3 trips to Autozone, and 1 to Home Depot, and about 50 cussing, tool throwing fits later both cars had new serpentine belts and tensioners and my truck had a new AC compressor belt. So I fired her up.....and the new $36 AC belt immediately melted into tiny little black smudges all over the seized up compressor pulley. I did manage to get it to the shop. Bam - $1100.
So whatever saving I thought I was gonna get from 2 months out from the strangulating tuition of Toddler Harvard were gone - and then some. Oh well, welcome to home ownership. Excuse me now as the dryer is calling me. It no longer dries. I wonder if I could just crack open the door & duct tape the hair dryer nozzle to hit the clothes as they tumble by.....?
My house Air Conditioner unit sits right next to the pool equipment. It noticed the pool guy coming every other Tuesday and thought, "I'm a big, noisy, mechanical thingy that they can't live without and yet they haven't had any sweaty guys with name patches on their shirts come see me - time to gets me some o' that" PFFFT - evaporater coil bit the dust, or rust in this case as the genius that designed it didn't seem to understand the process of corrosion that occurs when two different metals are in contact. Since Al Gore has scared the HVAC industry into using new coolants that will melt the Polar ice cap at a slightly slower rate, we had to replace the whole shebang. Two sweaty guys with name patch shirts gave the ole' AC their full attention for an entire morning and one even fell down my attic steps to add to the excitement. Bam - $7000!
The pool stuff & AC are located over on the side of the house but I was stupid enough to roll the pressure washer by the shiny new pumps etc. so he could see them. He made it halfway through spraying one window before he quit. Cause and cost still undetermined as I believe I will hone up on my man skills & try to tackle this one before eventually taking it apart to the point that I don't know how to reassemble it and then have to take the parts to the lawn equipment repair shop. They know me there as I've taken in my lawn mower, er, pieces of my lawn mower, twice now. While I'm there I can get them to fix the fuel lines on my blower, almost forgot about that piece of busted equipment.
Not to be outdone, the grill thought - why should I be happily heating up his meals while everyone else is taking the summer off? So the brand new gas regulator went bad. My highly anticipated medium rare venison steaks grilled to perfection quickly became dried out pieces of pan fried shoe leather on the stove.
I almost forgot about the vehicles that decided that their belts were no longer in style and started squeaking to let me know they wanted new, more fashionable belts.My truck got tired of squeaking for months so it finally just decided to blow hot air instead of AC. When I still wouldn't pay it attention it just up and died in the middle of the road. At least I could coast into the entrance of my neighborhood. A 4 hour ordeal of taking out the battery, recharging it, reinstalling it, and restarting the car later I figured it was time to replace the serpentine belt and the broken AC compressor belt. After studying up on how to replace them on YouTube I thought I'd save myself a few hundred bucks. And I did, instead of the 5 minutes it took the guy on the video it took more like 5 hours, 3 trips to Autozone, and 1 to Home Depot, and about 50 cussing, tool throwing fits later both cars had new serpentine belts and tensioners and my truck had a new AC compressor belt. So I fired her up.....and the new $36 AC belt immediately melted into tiny little black smudges all over the seized up compressor pulley. I did manage to get it to the shop. Bam - $1100.
So whatever saving I thought I was gonna get from 2 months out from the strangulating tuition of Toddler Harvard were gone - and then some. Oh well, welcome to home ownership. Excuse me now as the dryer is calling me. It no longer dries. I wonder if I could just crack open the door & duct tape the hair dryer nozzle to hit the clothes as they tumble by.....?
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Rambling #3 - Tale of the Big Deck
I've got a big deck. Other men envy my big deck and women want to sit on my big deck. But enough of the juvenile, yet still hilarious, innuendo. I really do have a big, wooden deck that I built 10 years ago. It runs about 16 by 32 ft. or about 3/4 of the length of the back of the house with a shade cover over about half of it. The reason I built a wood deck is that I'm buddies with a guy that used to do that for a job in the summer. If I was friends with a flagstone guy, I would've done a patio.
Well anyway, we've enjoyed the big deck over the years, grilling, socializing, etc. and when we put in a pool, we just left the deck there and butted the pool deck up to the wood. I love the natural look of the wood but it comes with a price. Each year it requires a bit of maintenance. Each summer I would strip off the old stain, clean it, and re-stain it. That is until the twins arrived and my summers filled up with diaper changing, spoon feedings, and general daddy daycare. So for the last few years I've just been rolling new stain on top of the old stain. Even worse, I've been using some discount, discontinued stain I picked up for cheap. It's gotten to the point that you can't even see the fine wood grain that gives my big deck such character.
So this year I thought that it was just hot enough to turn a two day job into a week long adventure. The wife was out of town, the kids were at Nana's - it was time to get a stripper! Not just one stripper, two, then three, then four. Oh the stripper was rolling all over that big deck. Up and back, left and right until I was sweating through my shirt. I'm telling you, hand rolling four gallons of paint stripper in 100 degree heat is a lot of work. But fortunately, the second part of the stain stripping process is to just hose it off. So I whipped out that big hose and got to spraying.....and it was quickly evident that the stain was laughing at my attempts to separate it from the wood. No problem, I've got a big, powerful man-toy made for just this situation: The Pressure Washer. Time to pull out the big guns. I pull out Ole' Squirty only to find it's got a wobbly wheel that's missing two bolts but it'll still shoot.
I crank 'er up & get to blasting that stubborn stain. Nothing can withstand the power of that Honda motor. Heck, I've written my name on the driveway with it, blasted the paint off of the pool filter, and nearly severed a toe one time. And most of that stain didn't stand a chance, most of that stain splashed all over the side of the house. This despite my efforts to hang shower curtains all around the work area to protect the house and pool. Oh well, nothing that the pressure washer can't handle after I'm done with this job. So I methodically go up and down every board for the next few hours only to find that 3 years of stain is more than a match for $100 worth of stripper and motorized hose.
Plan B - sand that sucker down! But what kind of sander? All I've got is a palm sander called "The Mouse". Obviously, no mouse is up to a job of this proportion. That opens up an opportunity to rent a big tool - a floor sander. Whoohoo - a chance to use a big tool. Christmas in July! One call to the rental center shot that down. Apparently floor sanders are designed for flat floors, not the curves and contours of a fine outdoor deck. Even better - a trip to the tool store is required. Birthday in July! A family trip to the mall with stops at the tool store, Coach purse store, home goods store, and carousel ride for the kids later, I've got my belt sander.
So on a sunny Sunday morning I gather my keys and inform the head female of the house that I need to get sandpaper belts for the sander. "Oh wait, I need to get a jewelry organizer and we need some paper towels also."Ok, I can probably get the belt at Wal-Mart. So we loaded up the 'Burb & headed off. 90 minutes and $80 later I had a new folding table, toilet paper, paper towels, and special skin lotion, but no sandpaper belts. Time to hit the man store on the way home where I finally got my belts...and some tomato plants and some wire vine climby thing since apparently, tomatoes have evolved to the point that they need constant human intervention to survive.
Finally it was time to tackle that damn deck. Belt installed, extension cord plugged in, switch on - vvvvrrrrrrmmmmmm! Awesome! This thing is stripping off stain like nobody's business! One board, two boards...seven boards and phhpptpttt. Broken belt. Oh well, it's time to play Barbie anyway.
Well anyway, we've enjoyed the big deck over the years, grilling, socializing, etc. and when we put in a pool, we just left the deck there and butted the pool deck up to the wood. I love the natural look of the wood but it comes with a price. Each year it requires a bit of maintenance. Each summer I would strip off the old stain, clean it, and re-stain it. That is until the twins arrived and my summers filled up with diaper changing, spoon feedings, and general daddy daycare. So for the last few years I've just been rolling new stain on top of the old stain. Even worse, I've been using some discount, discontinued stain I picked up for cheap. It's gotten to the point that you can't even see the fine wood grain that gives my big deck such character.
So this year I thought that it was just hot enough to turn a two day job into a week long adventure. The wife was out of town, the kids were at Nana's - it was time to get a stripper! Not just one stripper, two, then three, then four. Oh the stripper was rolling all over that big deck. Up and back, left and right until I was sweating through my shirt. I'm telling you, hand rolling four gallons of paint stripper in 100 degree heat is a lot of work. But fortunately, the second part of the stain stripping process is to just hose it off. So I whipped out that big hose and got to spraying.....and it was quickly evident that the stain was laughing at my attempts to separate it from the wood. No problem, I've got a big, powerful man-toy made for just this situation: The Pressure Washer. Time to pull out the big guns. I pull out Ole' Squirty only to find it's got a wobbly wheel that's missing two bolts but it'll still shoot.
I crank 'er up & get to blasting that stubborn stain. Nothing can withstand the power of that Honda motor. Heck, I've written my name on the driveway with it, blasted the paint off of the pool filter, and nearly severed a toe one time. And most of that stain didn't stand a chance, most of that stain splashed all over the side of the house. This despite my efforts to hang shower curtains all around the work area to protect the house and pool. Oh well, nothing that the pressure washer can't handle after I'm done with this job. So I methodically go up and down every board for the next few hours only to find that 3 years of stain is more than a match for $100 worth of stripper and motorized hose.
Plan B - sand that sucker down! But what kind of sander? All I've got is a palm sander called "The Mouse". Obviously, no mouse is up to a job of this proportion. That opens up an opportunity to rent a big tool - a floor sander. Whoohoo - a chance to use a big tool. Christmas in July! One call to the rental center shot that down. Apparently floor sanders are designed for flat floors, not the curves and contours of a fine outdoor deck. Even better - a trip to the tool store is required. Birthday in July! A family trip to the mall with stops at the tool store, Coach purse store, home goods store, and carousel ride for the kids later, I've got my belt sander.
So on a sunny Sunday morning I gather my keys and inform the head female of the house that I need to get sandpaper belts for the sander. "Oh wait, I need to get a jewelry organizer and we need some paper towels also."Ok, I can probably get the belt at Wal-Mart. So we loaded up the 'Burb & headed off. 90 minutes and $80 later I had a new folding table, toilet paper, paper towels, and special skin lotion, but no sandpaper belts. Time to hit the man store on the way home where I finally got my belts...and some tomato plants and some wire vine climby thing since apparently, tomatoes have evolved to the point that they need constant human intervention to survive.
Finally it was time to tackle that damn deck. Belt installed, extension cord plugged in, switch on - vvvvrrrrrrmmmmmm! Awesome! This thing is stripping off stain like nobody's business! One board, two boards...seven boards and phhpptpttt. Broken belt. Oh well, it's time to play Barbie anyway.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
ramling #2 - where did the naps go?
As I mentioned in the intro blog, I'm a teacher. Been doin' it for 18 yrs. now and have always enjoyed it. I mostly do it because I believe I was called to it, I love working with kids, especially middle schoolers that don't know whether they're kids or mini-adults yet. That being said, the holidays & summers have been awful nice. They don't quite make up for the pauper's salary but they make it bearable. That was until 3 yrs. ago....
That was the first year that I became a stay at home dad to my twin daughters. Ya see, my wife is a principal and she's busy all summer doing important principal things, like picking a theme for the new school year and decorating the lounge. But I jest, the couch isn't that comfortable. So anyhoo, the first few years went pretty well. When they were itty bitty babies most of the day was taken up changing diapers, spoon feeding every 15 minutes it seemed, general baby play on the floor, and naps. Oh the naps, naps all around, naps for daddy too. Luv me some naps. Those naps continued through years 2 and 3 and even got better. Last year, they would take a loooong nap in the afternoon. Heck, I could pay bills, clean the kitchen, watch a few shows, & change my oil during one of those naps. It got to the point where I was writing arias just because I had so much me time during those naps.
Then came this year. They're 3 1/2 yrs. old and apparently have decided that they no longer need sleep. They refuse to nap. I've tried to "put them down" (I always thought that sounded like people were euthanising horses instead of tucking their kids to sleep) but nothing's worked. I've tried to be nice, be mean, bribe, beg, cajole, threaten, go all Super Nanny on them to no avail. They pretty much just laugh at me under their breath & as soon as I walk down the hall they start some little twin version of a sorority girl sleepover. I hear the pitter patter of tiny feet, crossing back & forth between their rooms & squeaky little voices making up their own little make believe scenarios to live out.
In addition to the anti-nap campaign, they've decided that they don't need sleep at any time. They're 7:30 bedtime has crept later & later each week of the summer. The other night I was drooling into my pillow at 11 pm & I heard the tell tale sound of a kitty cat that sounded suspiciously like a 3 yr old still very much awake. One night after the Sun had been down for hours, they paraded through the den proclaiming, "Hoot, hoot". When questioned, the little twin informed us, "We're owls. We're nocturnal." I guess that's what I get for trying to turn them into toddler scientists.
So this is my summer now - at least they sleep late. I know that what I need to do is bite the bullet & just wake up their little tushies real early a few days in a row & that will break the cycle but man, it's awful nice to have a few minutes to watch at least one show that doesn't have a talking animal in it. I know that as soon as they're up it's time for Barbies, books, & making bead necklaces & I love every minute of it. More on that next time.
That was the first year that I became a stay at home dad to my twin daughters. Ya see, my wife is a principal and she's busy all summer doing important principal things, like picking a theme for the new school year and decorating the lounge. But I jest, the couch isn't that comfortable. So anyhoo, the first few years went pretty well. When they were itty bitty babies most of the day was taken up changing diapers, spoon feeding every 15 minutes it seemed, general baby play on the floor, and naps. Oh the naps, naps all around, naps for daddy too. Luv me some naps. Those naps continued through years 2 and 3 and even got better. Last year, they would take a loooong nap in the afternoon. Heck, I could pay bills, clean the kitchen, watch a few shows, & change my oil during one of those naps. It got to the point where I was writing arias just because I had so much me time during those naps.
Then came this year. They're 3 1/2 yrs. old and apparently have decided that they no longer need sleep. They refuse to nap. I've tried to "put them down" (I always thought that sounded like people were euthanising horses instead of tucking their kids to sleep) but nothing's worked. I've tried to be nice, be mean, bribe, beg, cajole, threaten, go all Super Nanny on them to no avail. They pretty much just laugh at me under their breath & as soon as I walk down the hall they start some little twin version of a sorority girl sleepover. I hear the pitter patter of tiny feet, crossing back & forth between their rooms & squeaky little voices making up their own little make believe scenarios to live out.
In addition to the anti-nap campaign, they've decided that they don't need sleep at any time. They're 7:30 bedtime has crept later & later each week of the summer. The other night I was drooling into my pillow at 11 pm & I heard the tell tale sound of a kitty cat that sounded suspiciously like a 3 yr old still very much awake. One night after the Sun had been down for hours, they paraded through the den proclaiming, "Hoot, hoot". When questioned, the little twin informed us, "We're owls. We're nocturnal." I guess that's what I get for trying to turn them into toddler scientists.
So this is my summer now - at least they sleep late. I know that what I need to do is bite the bullet & just wake up their little tushies real early a few days in a row & that will break the cycle but man, it's awful nice to have a few minutes to watch at least one show that doesn't have a talking animal in it. I know that as soon as they're up it's time for Barbies, books, & making bead necklaces & I love every minute of it. More on that next time.
Monday, June 20, 2011
rambling #1
Well it's about time that I joined the 21st century & posted every mundane thing in my life on the interweb for the world to see. I know that I don't get enough info about people's laundry, where they ate, or how they've checked in at the nail salon on FB so I'm throwing this out there for all of those information starved souls that need to know about how late some random dude slept, whether his yard is dying, or how often his 3 yr. old poops (more on the poop later).
So I guess I'll start off by introducing myself to anybody out there living in their parent's basement that is searching for the end of the internet (hint: just past the 847,000 porn sites & left of the LOL cats) that happens to come across this & becomes mesmerized by my sure to come soon Pulitzer prize winning prose. I am the average guy as defined by American television in the '50's: 43 yr. old white guy with 1 wife, 2 kids, house with 2 car garage, 2 dogs, regular job (teacher / coach), regular hobbies (huntin' & fishin"), and a basic knowledge of how to fix things around the house just up until the point where I take it apart enough to have to call a professional (see my truck that's been sitting in the driveway for a month). None of that modern day diverse America with IndoEuropeanEskimo heritage single dad with adopted Bulgarian triplets living in a studio loft while running his internet advertising business, dating supermodels, and volunteering at the animal shelter in his spare time. Nope, I'm Ward Cleaver for the new millenium....now June, where's my Martini?
What do I foresee this blog as? Basically a place that I can record for all eternity anything that I feel like (or at least until Skynet takes over & erases all evidence of human knowledge). I'm thinking that I'll post all the funny things my 3 yr. old twin girls do/say (be ready for lots o' poop stories!), stuff that happens at work - teaching 12 yr. olds is fertile ground for humor and/or frustration, things that break around the house like my AC, truck, and pool just in the last month, and of course the go to subject for any network TV sitcom writer - the complex yet often comical relations between family members in the average american household.
So I hope that you will enjoy reading the thought nuggets that come tumbling out of my noggin. Please be aware that most of them will be tongue in cheek, some of them will be slightly embellished, a few will be sure to offend old women & young children (sorry mom), but all of them will be purely original.
So I guess I'll start off by introducing myself to anybody out there living in their parent's basement that is searching for the end of the internet (hint: just past the 847,000 porn sites & left of the LOL cats) that happens to come across this & becomes mesmerized by my sure to come soon Pulitzer prize winning prose. I am the average guy as defined by American television in the '50's: 43 yr. old white guy with 1 wife, 2 kids, house with 2 car garage, 2 dogs, regular job (teacher / coach), regular hobbies (huntin' & fishin"), and a basic knowledge of how to fix things around the house just up until the point where I take it apart enough to have to call a professional (see my truck that's been sitting in the driveway for a month). None of that modern day diverse America with IndoEuropeanEskimo heritage single dad with adopted Bulgarian triplets living in a studio loft while running his internet advertising business, dating supermodels, and volunteering at the animal shelter in his spare time. Nope, I'm Ward Cleaver for the new millenium....now June, where's my Martini?
What do I foresee this blog as? Basically a place that I can record for all eternity anything that I feel like (or at least until Skynet takes over & erases all evidence of human knowledge). I'm thinking that I'll post all the funny things my 3 yr. old twin girls do/say (be ready for lots o' poop stories!), stuff that happens at work - teaching 12 yr. olds is fertile ground for humor and/or frustration, things that break around the house like my AC, truck, and pool just in the last month, and of course the go to subject for any network TV sitcom writer - the complex yet often comical relations between family members in the average american household.
So I hope that you will enjoy reading the thought nuggets that come tumbling out of my noggin. Please be aware that most of them will be tongue in cheek, some of them will be slightly embellished, a few will be sure to offend old women & young children (sorry mom), but all of them will be purely original.
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