A
We've been having one of those evenings where I sit down to the computer thinking finally there'll be a nap or at least a bit of down time, but what winds up here on the screen is the letter A and then I have to get up and attend to business, three hours go by and the A is still sitting there.
Mocking me, because I no longer remember what I was going to write after the A; however one of the interruptions was most pleasant, as a local person of some standing (and that's as specific as I'll get) actually took the time to come by the house and tell me in person how much he appreciated my radio work.
Good thing he didn't come by on one of those days spent doing housework in the nude. (KIDDING, he said in capital letters, knowing that there are some things that should not be envisioned let alone depicted in reality. Of course I don't do all that much housework.)
At any rate, my recollection of the encounter is available over at my sibling blog, Brian's Bag-Letter Bonanza.
Monday, November 10, 2008
I'D LIKE TO CHECK YOU FOR TICKS...
...although I wish it wasn't necessary after every simple walk in the woods.
November rules. At least when you get a nice day it does. The tourists are giving it a rest until after Thanksgiving, the nights make for comfortable sleeping, and I think the kids and I could have just have taken our afternoon naps out there in LeafPile 2.0, if it wasn't for the outside chance of a deer tick stopping in for a late-season nibble and a bit of the old Lyme-disease vectoring. Instead every trip out to jump in the leaves has to end with a thorough checking of little ears and scalps and rumps and such for ticks. And if we ever find one? Why, we'd extract it and eat it as if we were mommy and daddy baboons and Jim Fowler was watching us from a tree stand in Botswana.
And so here's wishing our area's deer hunters all the best this fall, especially at a time when a larger number of them really do rely on the venison to keep their larders full for the winter. I sure do wish the next administration in DC would repeal the hundred-year-old federal law banning market hunting, but even as is it's a win-win-win-win-win-win: it's free venison (or at least venison purchased with one's own sweat), it gets people outside, it's better for the deer population, and it preserves young trees and plants in the forest undergrowth for all the other animals that live in the forest. And of course fewer deer mean fewer deer ticks, although the little buggers can hitch a ride on other animals if need be.
And it's one less hundred-pound rat suddenly jumping out in front of my car.
Stupid Walt Disney and Bambi with that "MAN had entered the forest" crapola, raising a generation of boomers on the overweening cuteness of the forest world and how hunting was awful and scary and mean to the poor widdle deer. Obviously the Disney people of the day had never seen deer starve to death over the winter, or it's relative the moose, in rut, trying to make sweet love to a Volkswagen (safe for work). If I ever make a movie I'm going to be sure some melodramatic set of pipes intones "DEER had entered the southbound lane of Route 9-G" somewhere along the line.
November rules. At least when you get a nice day it does. The tourists are giving it a rest until after Thanksgiving, the nights make for comfortable sleeping, and I think the kids and I could have just have taken our afternoon naps out there in LeafPile 2.0, if it wasn't for the outside chance of a deer tick stopping in for a late-season nibble and a bit of the old Lyme-disease vectoring. Instead every trip out to jump in the leaves has to end with a thorough checking of little ears and scalps and rumps and such for ticks. And if we ever find one? Why, we'd extract it and eat it as if we were mommy and daddy baboons and Jim Fowler was watching us from a tree stand in Botswana.
And so here's wishing our area's deer hunters all the best this fall, especially at a time when a larger number of them really do rely on the venison to keep their larders full for the winter. I sure do wish the next administration in DC would repeal the hundred-year-old federal law banning market hunting, but even as is it's a win-win-win-win-win-win: it's free venison (or at least venison purchased with one's own sweat), it gets people outside, it's better for the deer population, and it preserves young trees and plants in the forest undergrowth for all the other animals that live in the forest. And of course fewer deer mean fewer deer ticks, although the little buggers can hitch a ride on other animals if need be.
And it's one less hundred-pound rat suddenly jumping out in front of my car.
Stupid Walt Disney and Bambi with that "MAN had entered the forest" crapola, raising a generation of boomers on the overweening cuteness of the forest world and how hunting was awful and scary and mean to the poor widdle deer. Obviously the Disney people of the day had never seen deer starve to death over the winter, or it's relative the moose, in rut, trying to make sweet love to a Volkswagen (safe for work). If I ever make a movie I'm going to be sure some melodramatic set of pipes intones "DEER had entered the southbound lane of Route 9-G" somewhere along the line.
THEY SLEPT ALL NIGHT
Both of them. On time.
Will wonders never cease?
Beast is usually no problem at all, being the low-maintenance relaxed Dude he is...wish he wasn't so relaxed about getting to the potty on time, though. Noodle, on the other hand, has a brain that operates on a whole 'nother level. No way is she sleeping when something interesting is happening in the house, even if it's just one of their hair-trigger toys switching on for no reason. This time she went right out without kvetching or stalling or anything. I tried motivating her by saying the only way she'd get to give mommy bye-bye kisses before she left for work was to go to sleep early, so we'll see if that works in about 33 minutes. There's also the second motivating factor of her Mémère coming over after lunch so I can take Her Awesomeness to the podiatrist. All that distance running has left my darling with an owie that requires expert attention, and because she may have to be off her feet tonight there is a possibility we will splurge and...order a pizza.
And that will be its own drama. Beast pulls the cheese off his pizza and then doesn't eat much of the remaining slice before demanding another, and Noodle likes hers cold. Weirdo.
29 minutes. We'll see what happens.
Will wonders never cease?
Beast is usually no problem at all, being the low-maintenance relaxed Dude he is...wish he wasn't so relaxed about getting to the potty on time, though. Noodle, on the other hand, has a brain that operates on a whole 'nother level. No way is she sleeping when something interesting is happening in the house, even if it's just one of their hair-trigger toys switching on for no reason. This time she went right out without kvetching or stalling or anything. I tried motivating her by saying the only way she'd get to give mommy bye-bye kisses before she left for work was to go to sleep early, so we'll see if that works in about 33 minutes. There's also the second motivating factor of her Mémère coming over after lunch so I can take Her Awesomeness to the podiatrist. All that distance running has left my darling with an owie that requires expert attention, and because she may have to be off her feet tonight there is a possibility we will splurge and...order a pizza.
And that will be its own drama. Beast pulls the cheese off his pizza and then doesn't eat much of the remaining slice before demanding another, and Noodle likes hers cold. Weirdo.
29 minutes. We'll see what happens.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
BEHOLD: THE LEAF PILE
Awww, yeah. There is nothing better on a Sunday afternoon in November:
And to make it sweeter still, for once My Gigantic Pasty White Bald SpotTM isn't in the picture. My dermatologist told me I'd better get something done about it before helicopters try to land on my head.
My head is not the sort that would be aesthetically pleasing without hair. I'm the anti-Ed Harris in that regard. First, it's huge, my head. A virtual planetoid. Asymmetrical, also. And then there's blotches and uneven bits and flat areas and a chickenpox scar shaped exactly like the Great Red Spot of Jupiter, only just a little smaller. Put me and my cranium over in the category "Put That Away, Would You? We're Trying To Eat" with Don Zimmer and Uncle Fester - and remember, at least Zim can wear a cap when he's on the job and Fester's supposed to be horrifying.
IT'S LIKE BAKLAVA, ONLY WITH MUD
No pics, but if the kids' Sunday morning play session needed a narrator, it would've been this guy:
If the name eludes you for the moment, maybe the voiceover guy on this video will help:
If the name eludes you for the moment, maybe the voiceover guy on this video will help:
In other words, the kids are fourth-quarter-at-Soldier-Field filthy. One layer of mud, one layer of driveway chalk, another layer of yard mud, one layer of last week's Halloween candy, one layer of puddle schmutz, a third layer of mud, topped off with a dash of stinkfoot.
Perhaps the village firehouse has enough water pressure to get them presentable for lunch.
GLARB? FARF NORGLE VOBBERPLOP
If it's seeming more incoherent than usual around here, that's because Noodle kept us up for a couple hours in the middle of the night with the full gamut of five-year-old stalling tricks: Potty. Water. Scared. Fan on. Fan off. Can't find one of the massive phalanx of stuffed pugs she sleeps with. And potty again. Lather, rinse, repeat, from 1:30 until 3:30 this morning.
Let's see what the National Sleep Foundation has to say:
Nice straddle, guys. Either it's stalling or it's a visit to another doctor? (eyeroll) Thanks. (/eyeroll)
Let's see what the National Sleep Foundation has to say:
Some children learn that saying they are afraid is an effective stalling tactic or a way to avoid bedtime. On the other hand, some children and adolescents with sleep issues really have an anxiety disorder...
Nice straddle, guys. Either it's stalling or it's a visit to another doctor? (eyeroll) Thanks. (/eyeroll)
Saturday, November 8, 2008
SATURDAY MORNING LOVE SONG
Neil Finn is a genius, and I am a big sap, but I defy you not to fall for the hook on Split Enz' "Message To My Girl".
Friday, November 7, 2008
SOOOOPER GENIUS
Not that I want to brag, but we just had our first teacher conference -slash- report-card review for Noodle, and saving for college is going to be tougher for us than we thought because we've got maybe six years tops between kindergarten and RPI/MIT/Caltech/Starfleet Academy.
Noodle does have her occasional attention-span issues -- those of you who know me or my mom are saying no, really? Do tell right about now -- but so far we couldn't be happier with her progress in the classroom and can't wait until next year when she she cures cancer, finds bin Laden and singlehandedly kills him with a Wuxi Finger Hold, whips Tiger Woods at Augusta, picks up Nobel Prizes for physics, chemistry, literature and bowling, solves the Kobayashi Maru scenario and wins the World Series for the Cubs.
Okay, yes -- with that last one we're seriously overreaching.
Noodle does have her occasional attention-span issues -- those of you who know me or my mom are saying no, really? Do tell right about now -- but so far we couldn't be happier with her progress in the classroom and can't wait until next year when she she cures cancer, finds bin Laden and singlehandedly kills him with a Wuxi Finger Hold, whips Tiger Woods at Augusta, picks up Nobel Prizes for physics, chemistry, literature and bowling, solves the Kobayashi Maru scenario and wins the World Series for the Cubs.
Okay, yes -- with that last one we're seriously overreaching.
MEANWHILE, LURKING BY A STONE IN THE MUD...YOU?
Any more followers out there? My fiendish plan to have every humanoid in this galactic sector reading this blog by Thanksgiving finds itself becalmed. Commenters are welcome as well, of course. Who doesn't enjoy a little dishing?
Both the wee ones are home today, and we've got Noodle's first teacher conference this afternoon. Our initial indications are that she's a complete angel at school and saves the hellionosity for mom and dad and little brother. Although right now she and Beast are quietly watching Monsters, Inc. after a remarkably sane breakfast.
Please don't let it rain all day. I really need to get the little varmints outside.
Both the wee ones are home today, and we've got Noodle's first teacher conference this afternoon. Our initial indications are that she's a complete angel at school and saves the hellionosity for mom and dad and little brother. Although right now she and Beast are quietly watching Monsters, Inc. after a remarkably sane breakfast.
Please don't let it rain all day. I really need to get the little varmints outside.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
VICTORY IS MINE
So the bus with Noodle on it is scheduled to arrive home at ~3:43. It's her first time riding the bus home instead of to the day care center to be picked up by mom, and I do NOT want to screw this up.
At 3:00, I set the kitchen timer for 33 minutes to allow myself enough time to get myself and Beast out the door to greet her with ten minutes to spare, and set about swiffering the kitchen and living room floors.
At 3:25 I notice out of the corner of my eye my neighbors walking back into the house. Thinking I'd gotten the time wrong and they'd just gotten their son off the bus himself, I metaphorically soil myself and run outside. HEY, DID I MISS THE BUS? And the flop sweat pours forth. I've gone and screwed up the simplest and most important thing to get right all day.
Then it was the sweet sweet scent of cleaning chemicals that must've (additionally) addled my brain. 3:33 comes, the beeper beeps, I gather in the Beast to take him outside to meet his big sister and
Between the cleaning fragrance, me shvitzing like Patrick Ewing, and now the fresh and copious wizzination, it's getting quite...piquant...in here. Run to his room, get fresh pants, forget fresh underwear, go back to his room, get the underwear, forget the wipes, go back to his room for the wipes, and ohlordohlordohlord why is he fighting me now?
His baseball. Back to his room yet again for the ball, throw open the front door to listen for the bus (and to get some fresh air in here), off with the moist, a flourishing of the wipe, a bit of the old how's-your-father for the undercarriage, on with the fresh underwear, the fresh pants, the fresh socks and shoes, and out the door we
Of course, since it was raining he didn't want his raincoat, oh no. Had to have the winter coat. On goes the coat, out the door and down the stairs to the driveway to go, here comes the bus and
Oh, so it's my son who's got that arm. Nice to know, what with the Yankees not picking up Pavano's option and all. So the rain stopped the moment we unfurled the Barbie umbrella, we got Noodle off the bus and into the house safe and sound, and
And nothing, finally. We crashed on the couch in front of some Yo Gabba Gabba and that was that.
At 3:00, I set the kitchen timer for 33 minutes to allow myself enough time to get myself and Beast out the door to greet her with ten minutes to spare, and set about swiffering the kitchen and living room floors.
At 3:25 I notice out of the corner of my eye my neighbors walking back into the house. Thinking I'd gotten the time wrong and they'd just gotten their son off the bus himself, I metaphorically soil myself and run outside. HEY, DID I MISS THE BUS? And the flop sweat pours forth. I've gone and screwed up the simplest and most important thing to get right all day.
From across the street: NO, EVERYTHING'S OKAY. JUST BE OUTSIDE AT 3:43.
Me: SO I'M JUST AN IDIOT, THEN.
WELL, YOUR WIFE DIDN'T USE THAT WORD, BUT CLOSE ENOUGH.
Then it was the sweet sweet scent of cleaning chemicals that must've (additionally) addled my brain. 3:33 comes, the beeper beeps, I gather in the Beast to take him outside to meet his big sister and
DADDY, I MADE PEE.
Between the cleaning fragrance, me shvitzing like Patrick Ewing, and now the fresh and copious wizzination, it's getting quite...piquant...in here. Run to his room, get fresh pants, forget fresh underwear, go back to his room, get the underwear, forget the wipes, go back to his room for the wipes, and ohlordohlordohlord why is he fighting me now?
(s0b) BAYBAW (s0b).
His baseball. Back to his room yet again for the ball, throw open the front door to listen for the bus (and to get some fresh air in here), off with the moist, a flourishing of the wipe, a bit of the old how's-your-father for the undercarriage, on with the fresh underwear, the fresh pants, the fresh socks and shoes, and out the door we
It's raining.
Of course, since it was raining he didn't want his raincoat, oh no. Had to have the winter coat. On goes the coat, out the door and down the stairs to the driveway to go, here comes the bus and
Why is there a baseball rolling out into the road? (Let it go, man, 'cause it's gone.)
Oh, so it's my son who's got that arm. Nice to know, what with the Yankees not picking up Pavano's option and all. So the rain stopped the moment we unfurled the Barbie umbrella, we got Noodle off the bus and into the house safe and sound, and
And nothing, finally. We crashed on the couch in front of some Yo Gabba Gabba and that was that.
THEY USED TO SHOOT RATS 'ROUND HERE, SON
I am totally bringing a camera with me next time I take Beast to the Rhinebeck dump.
Transfer station, sorry. Even after all these years I'm not used to bringing my garbage - recyclables, sorry - to someplace that's clean and dry and paved. I grew up on trips to the old town dump next door to the transfer station, where my dad would attempt to get the Ford Fairlane wagon down the rutted dirt one-lane road to the dump, where there'd be fascinatingly colossal piles of reeking garbage on one side, mountains of scrap metal on another, and maybe a small trash fire burning in the back. Everybody take a deeeeep breath now!
Nowadays it's a whole lot neater and cleaner. The regular garbage goes into special bags in one place, the cans and bottles go over yonder, the newspapers and coupons and flyers and such go into this bin...but it's the cardboard that Beast wants to see, because cardboard goes into
THE CRUSHER!
Wrong crusher, obviously, but a worthy excuse for some classic WB. This is the cardboard crusher we're talking about here. Beast helps me toss the cardboard in the collection box, the contents of the box go into the crusher, the man flips the switch and WHOA. WHOA DADDY WHOA WHOA WHOA THAT'S COOL DADDY! WHOA.
Obviously I'm going to have to find some massive construction site for this kid to visit.
Transfer station, sorry. Even after all these years I'm not used to bringing my garbage - recyclables, sorry - to someplace that's clean and dry and paved. I grew up on trips to the old town dump next door to the transfer station, where my dad would attempt to get the Ford Fairlane wagon down the rutted dirt one-lane road to the dump, where there'd be fascinatingly colossal piles of reeking garbage on one side, mountains of scrap metal on another, and maybe a small trash fire burning in the back. Everybody take a deeeeep breath now!
Nowadays it's a whole lot neater and cleaner. The regular garbage goes into special bags in one place, the cans and bottles go over yonder, the newspapers and coupons and flyers and such go into this bin...but it's the cardboard that Beast wants to see, because cardboard goes into
THE CRUSHER!
Wrong crusher, obviously, but a worthy excuse for some classic WB. This is the cardboard crusher we're talking about here. Beast helps me toss the cardboard in the collection box, the contents of the box go into the crusher, the man flips the switch and WHOA. WHOA DADDY WHOA WHOA WHOA THAT'S COOL DADDY! WHOA.
Obviously I'm going to have to find some massive construction site for this kid to visit.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
O MY
Congratulations to our next president, Barack Obama, and I hope I'm wrong about him and his party. We really need leadership in Washington to not suck right about now, but I look down to DC at the Rangels and Bachmanns and Murthas and Icebox Bill Jeffersons and think...
...we gave THEM the power too.
And as for here in New York, the Democrats will control both houses of the legislature as well as the governor's office. This is bound to work out wonderfully for all concerned.
Looks like we'll be flying into some turbulence shortly.
...we gave THEM the power too.
And as for here in New York, the Democrats will control both houses of the legislature as well as the governor's office. This is bound to work out wonderfully for all concerned.
Looks like we'll be flying into some turbulence shortly.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
THE MANLY ARTS, PASSED FROM FATHER TO SON
Herman's dietary routine, translated into pidgin BASIC, which I haven't used since 1982 so forgive the lapses:
1 REM V=the amount of semidigested cat food that'll be coming up Herman's esophagus if he keeps eating stuff that is obviously NOT a food any other cat on the planet would eat
2 REM B=our budget for nice things
5 LET V=0
7 LET B=50
10 INPUT "Has Herman eaten his insanely expensive veterinary cat food?", F$
20 IF F$="Y" THEN GOTO 40
30 IF F$="N" THEN GOTO 10
40 INPUT "What else has Herman eaten?", E$
50 IF E$="DEAD LEAF" THEN LET V=V+10
60 IF E$="KETCHUP" THEN LET V=V+15
70 IF E$="TOENAIL CLIPPING" THEN LET V=V+20
80 IF E$="SHOELACE" THEN LET V=V+35
90 IF V<20 THEN GOTO 40
100 PRINT "GAAAAAAAAACK"
110 LET B=B-10
120 GOTO 10
130 END
Next week I'll get to work on a subroutine to calculate the free time lost to cleaning up the copious by-products of Herman's reverse peristalsis. Which brings me to the meaning of the title of this post.
Like many three-year-olds, Beast is a most observant little tyke and is absorbing information every waking moment. Her Awesomeness and I are aware of this when it comes to things like obviously blue language and behave accordingly, but when it comes to descriptions of digestive matters we revert to collegiate form.
Result: Beast now knows several synonyms for "vomit", including gack, puke, hurl, barf, boof, and toss cookies. Which I maintain is as it should be for the lad, because a young fellow is not considered eligible for a Guy Card unless he knows at least 50 synonyms for praying to the porcelain god, and at six Beast is well on his way.
Heck, I just added "Cantar Oaxaca" to my extensive synonyms list this very evening.
1 REM V=the amount of semidigested cat food that'll be coming up Herman's esophagus if he keeps eating stuff that is obviously NOT a food any other cat on the planet would eat
2 REM B=our budget for nice things
5 LET V=0
7 LET B=50
10 INPUT "Has Herman eaten his insanely expensive veterinary cat food?", F$
20 IF F$="Y" THEN GOTO 40
30 IF F$="N" THEN GOTO 10
40 INPUT "What else has Herman eaten?", E$
50 IF E$="DEAD LEAF" THEN LET V=V+10
60 IF E$="KETCHUP" THEN LET V=V+15
70 IF E$="TOENAIL CLIPPING" THEN LET V=V+20
80 IF E$="SHOELACE" THEN LET V=V+35
90 IF V<20 THEN GOTO 40
100 PRINT "GAAAAAAAAACK"
110 LET B=B-10
120 GOTO 10
130 END
Next week I'll get to work on a subroutine to calculate the free time lost to cleaning up the copious by-products of Herman's reverse peristalsis. Which brings me to the meaning of the title of this post.
Like many three-year-olds, Beast is a most observant little tyke and is absorbing information every waking moment. Her Awesomeness and I are aware of this when it comes to things like obviously blue language and behave accordingly, but when it comes to descriptions of digestive matters we revert to collegiate form.
Result: Beast now knows several synonyms for "vomit", including gack, puke, hurl, barf, boof, and toss cookies. Which I maintain is as it should be for the lad, because a young fellow is not considered eligible for a Guy Card unless he knows at least 50 synonyms for praying to the porcelain god, and at six Beast is well on his way.
Heck, I just added "Cantar Oaxaca" to my extensive synonyms list this very evening.
FOLLOWERS DOUBLED AGAIN!
First one follower, then two, then four...thank you and welcome to "FlinchOnce" and "mbunt13".
I told you we were going to grow exponentially. Let's keep it up!
(This post brought to you by the Department of Exaggerated First-Down Celebration Dances On One's Own 14-Yard-Line With Twelve Minutes Left In The First Quarter.)
I told you we were going to grow exponentially. Let's keep it up!
(This post brought to you by the Department of Exaggerated First-Down Celebration Dances On One's Own 14-Yard-Line With Twelve Minutes Left In The First Quarter.)
Monday, November 3, 2008
NOODLE HATH A LOOTHE TOOF
Just got back from Albany Medical Center and heard mostly excellent news about Noodle's HSP. The blood pressure's just a hair high but there doesn't appear to be any sign of relapsing. Also, as expected we learned she's still way way tall for her age. 3' 11" at just a couple months past five years old. How's the weather up there, kid?
Also, as the hed alludes, one of her front teeth is wobbling about a bit. Just in time for a nice round or two of "All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth".
Tooth fairy's a bit skint this time 'round, luv.
Also, as the hed alludes, one of her front teeth is wobbling about a bit. Just in time for a nice round or two of "All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth".
Tooth fairy's a bit skint this time 'round, luv.
MR. BRIAN WILL SEE YOU NOW
So this morning it was time for my initiation into the tragicomic world of Daddy Tries Making His Daughter Presentable For School All By Himself. Not quite all by myself. Her Awesomeness and the girl-child wisely consulted the night before and got her clothing picked out in advance, so that's one hurdle jumped for me already. Degrees of difficulty for the rest of it, mainly hair care: 1) I'm a guy, 2) I've had pretty much the same low-maintenance haircut since I was four, and 3) never has their been anything placed in my hair as decoration other than sticks and mud, and that was also when I was four.
And nine.
And this one time in college when I inhaled.
Noodle's new schedule means she gets an extra hour or so of sleep, so there wasn't hardly as much not-a-morning-person hell-on-wheels behavior to muddle through as when she had to be awakened at six.
It went...fairly smoothly. We were all done more than half an hour before the school bus arrived, she didn't look a bit like an escapee from the mines, so there was even time to make myself presentable for the bus-stop crowd. I hadn't noticed this since these hours used to pass at the radio station, but since September the end of my driveway has become the new neighborhood hangout, where all the hoods and greasers go to be seen.
Off to Albany with Noodle after this is done, and then tomorrow comes the true test.
And nine.
And this one time in college when I inhaled.
Noodle's new schedule means she gets an extra hour or so of sleep, so there wasn't hardly as much not-a-morning-person hell-on-wheels behavior to muddle through as when she had to be awakened at six.
It went...fairly smoothly. We were all done more than half an hour before the school bus arrived, she didn't look a bit like an escapee from the mines, so there was even time to make myself presentable for the bus-stop crowd. I hadn't noticed this since these hours used to pass at the radio station, but since September the end of my driveway has become the new neighborhood hangout, where all the hoods and greasers go to be seen.
Off to Albany with Noodle after this is done, and then tomorrow comes the true test.
HOT DIGGITY - 2 FOLLOWERS!
I doubled my total, so at this rate I'll have the entire world reading my blogs by New Year's.
Thanks to new follower "e.f." for coming on board!
Thanks to new follower "e.f." for coming on board!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
OFF TO ALBANY TOMORROW
We are hoping that maybe this will be our last trip up to Albany Med for quite some time, seeing as Noodle's Henoch-Schönlein purpura appears to have been in remission for a good six to nine months now. We haven't seen any fresh weirdness in quite some time, but there are still questions we need to ask of her nephrologist.
You can find out more about HSP and related diseases at the Vasculitis Foundation.
You can find out more about HSP and related diseases at the Vasculitis Foundation.
HE'S RUN RINGS 'ROUND ME LOGICALLY
Me, some time in the distant past, to Beast and Noodle: "Food that has green in it is good for you!"
(Fast forward to the present.)
Beast: "I eating my booger, Daddy. It green, so it good for you. That what you said, Daddy."
Me: "But boogers don't count as food."
Beast: "But they taste good, Daddy!"
Me: "Can't you just gorge on Halloween candy like a normal kid?"
(Fast forward to the present.)
Beast: "I eating my booger, Daddy. It green, so it good for you. That what you said, Daddy."
Me: "But boogers don't count as food."
Beast: "But they taste good, Daddy!"
Me: "Can't you just gorge on Halloween candy like a normal kid?"
Saturday, November 1, 2008
WHEW, THIS IS DIFFICULT WORK.
Managing that one follower I have, that is.
Won't you look over to the right for a moment, click in the appropriate place, and join whoever it is in getting regular updates on whatever this is?
Won't you look over to the right for a moment, click in the appropriate place, and join whoever it is in getting regular updates on whatever this is?
PARENTING TRUISMS, VOLUME 1 - ON THE CAN
The more your child has to go to the bathroom, the farther you will be from a potty.
When on the road, your child's need to go potty varies inversely with the speed of the driver immediately in front of you.
When searching for the nearest public bathroom, the most direct route to the potty will be blocked either by a gaggle of teenagers or somebody on crutches.
The first public bathroom you find will be filthy.
The second public bathroom you find you will only be able to use once at best, because the sound of the flushing toilet will be audible in the next time zone and will so thoroughly freak out your child that the third, fourth, fifth and sixth public bathrooms you find will be deemed unacceptable if they look anything like the one with the big scary loud toilet.
If the big scary loud toilet in the next stall over flushes before your child has done their business, they will be freaked out and refuse to use the toilet they're at. Proceed directly to the seventh available toilet as alluded to above.
Auto-flush electric eye toilets will either be terrifying and unusable, or your child will delight in repeatedly setting off the sensor and completely forget the business at hand until such time as the toilet overflows.
If the toilet in the next stall over is being used by somebody whose most recent meal appears to have been burritos and Utica Club, again there will be a freaking out and a potty refusal.
If all else fails and you pull over to make a dash for the nearest tree, within one minute a police officer will arrive at the scene to investigate the situation. Meanwhile, seventeen meth dealers, half the Gambino family, and one recently-indicted member of the state legislature will insouciantly blaze by in the opposite direction.
When on the road, your child's need to go potty varies inversely with the speed of the driver immediately in front of you.
When searching for the nearest public bathroom, the most direct route to the potty will be blocked either by a gaggle of teenagers or somebody on crutches.
The first public bathroom you find will be filthy.
The second public bathroom you find you will only be able to use once at best, because the sound of the flushing toilet will be audible in the next time zone and will so thoroughly freak out your child that the third, fourth, fifth and sixth public bathrooms you find will be deemed unacceptable if they look anything like the one with the big scary loud toilet.
If the big scary loud toilet in the next stall over flushes before your child has done their business, they will be freaked out and refuse to use the toilet they're at. Proceed directly to the seventh available toilet as alluded to above.
Auto-flush electric eye toilets will either be terrifying and unusable, or your child will delight in repeatedly setting off the sensor and completely forget the business at hand until such time as the toilet overflows.
If the toilet in the next stall over is being used by somebody whose most recent meal appears to have been burritos and Utica Club, again there will be a freaking out and a potty refusal.
If all else fails and you pull over to make a dash for the nearest tree, within one minute a police officer will arrive at the scene to investigate the situation. Meanwhile, seventeen meth dealers, half the Gambino family, and one recently-indicted member of the state legislature will insouciantly blaze by in the opposite direction.
Friday, October 31, 2008
HALLOWEEN
Life ain't fair, kid. Beast got just one extra Halloween, yesterday, at the day care center he and Noodle attend, whereas the big sister gets a second extra Halloween today at her school - featuring a parade of extreme cuteness, and thanks to The ManTM Keeping Me Down A Little Early, I'll be able to watch and photograph the proceedings. The little diva has -two- different princess outfits - yesterday's was the standard E-Z-Tear getup from Walmart, today's is a whole 'nother level, purchased at Story Land in New Hampshire back on summer vacation when we had that kind of money.
This one's got the tasseled pointy hat, y'all.
But why do the princess shoes have to be so. damn. narrow? Did Cinderella's evil stepsisters get jobs in R&D for Amalgamated Plastic Princess Shoe of Shanghai?
Last night Noodle got out of bed and wasn't supposed to do that, but then the little lady told me she did it to get a picture of me off her dresser, to sleep with all night long.
Aww. There's something in daddy's eye.
The Beast will have to go quite a ways to top that kind of spontaneous adorableness, but he'll try his darndest when he wakes up. Any minute now.
This one's got the tasseled pointy hat, y'all.
But why do the princess shoes have to be so. damn. narrow? Did Cinderella's evil stepsisters get jobs in R&D for Amalgamated Plastic Princess Shoe of Shanghai?
Last night Noodle got out of bed and wasn't supposed to do that, but then the little lady told me she did it to get a picture of me off her dresser, to sleep with all night long.
Aww. There's something in daddy's eye.
The Beast will have to go quite a ways to top that kind of spontaneous adorableness, but he'll try his darndest when he wakes up. Any minute now.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
FOLLOW YOU, FOLLOW ME
Hey, take a gander over to the right and become a follower of this blog. It's new!
UPDATE: Sweet! I've got one.
UPDATE: Sweet! I've got one.
TELLING MOM
Well, whaddya know. She didn't have a conniption or anything. I was bracing for a meltdown, but she held it together nicely and began threatening to show those empty suits what for.
Down, Ma. Down. Easy now.
So it's back to getting the house ready for winter this afternoon, while the weather's still decent. I'll be on a ladder, which is always good for laughs.
Watch for a blog detailing my job search shortly, where you'll be able to share in my struggles and laugh at my failures.
Down, Ma. Down. Easy now.
So it's back to getting the house ready for winter this afternoon, while the weather's still decent. I'll be on a ladder, which is always good for laughs.
Watch for a blog detailing my job search shortly, where you'll be able to share in my struggles and laugh at my failures.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
THANKS FOR THE HITS - KEEP 'EM COMING!
And that means all thirty of you.
Look for lots more posting here in the days and weeks to come, and maybe there'll be enough material to spin off into a new blog - after all, I can no longer say things aren't interesting, and I can also dash off things that I hadn't in the past for fear of The Man slapping me down. (Moot points for $1000, Alex.)
In the meantime, I do appreciate your warm thoughts and support, whether this is the first you've read of me or whether you heard me stink out the joint on the air back in '89.
So. Who needs a guy whose marketable skills include running off at the mouth? Anybody?
Look for lots more posting here in the days and weeks to come, and maybe there'll be enough material to spin off into a new blog - after all, I can no longer say things aren't interesting, and I can also dash off things that I hadn't in the past for fear of The Man slapping me down. (Moot points for $1000, Alex.)
In the meantime, I do appreciate your warm thoughts and support, whether this is the first you've read of me or whether you heard me stink out the joint on the air back in '89.
So. Who needs a guy whose marketable skills include running off at the mouth? Anybody?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
MY WORK HERE IS FINISHED. MY WORK THERE AND THERE AND THERE HAS JUST BEGUN
Date: October 28, 2008
To: Everybody
Re: What I prefer to call my final vacation memo
CHRIST, NOT ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE BITTER AND MAUDLIN FAREWELL NOTES.
(Just thought I’d get what you might have been thinking out of the way.)
First of all, I want to thank everybody I’m going to forget to thank later on. It’s been just shy of 20 years, and also I’m senile, so forgive me in advance.
C’MON, BURN SOME BRIDGES. GIVE ‘EM WHAT FOR. TELL ‘EM WHO’S GOING TO BE FIRST AGAINST THE WALL WHEN THE REVOLUTION COMES. CRY HAVOC, AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR…
Not so much. Check this out:
• I get to leave the snow shovel in the garage until sunrise.
• I get to make something for dinner other than “whatever takes 5 minutes”.
• I get to sleep for seven whole hours. All at once.
• I get to completely ignore the idiots in Washington and Albany.
• I get to give my wife more kisses.
• I get to put my daughter on the school bus.
• I get to play in the leaves with my son.
That’s not a bad deal at all. More people should be so lucky.
BULLET POINTS? YOU USED BULLET POINTS? DORK.
Old habits, sorry.
Many thanks to everybody who has offered assistance and good wishes. I may just take you up on that one day, but I’m lucky enough to have Celeste by my side. (Hooray for jobs with tenure!) And offers of help go both ways – if there’s anything you need from me, I’ll lend a hand as best I can.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, on the table in front of me is a beer with my name on it. And if I can’t find my name on the first beer, it’s definitely on the second one.
To: Everybody
Re: What I prefer to call my final vacation memo
CHRIST, NOT ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE BITTER AND MAUDLIN FAREWELL NOTES.
(Just thought I’d get what you might have been thinking out of the way.)
First of all, I want to thank everybody I’m going to forget to thank later on. It’s been just shy of 20 years, and also I’m senile, so forgive me in advance.
C’MON, BURN SOME BRIDGES. GIVE ‘EM WHAT FOR. TELL ‘EM WHO’S GOING TO BE FIRST AGAINST THE WALL WHEN THE REVOLUTION COMES. CRY HAVOC, AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR…
Not so much. Check this out:
• I get to leave the snow shovel in the garage until sunrise.
• I get to make something for dinner other than “whatever takes 5 minutes”.
• I get to sleep for seven whole hours. All at once.
• I get to completely ignore the idiots in Washington and Albany.
• I get to give my wife more kisses.
• I get to put my daughter on the school bus.
• I get to play in the leaves with my son.
That’s not a bad deal at all. More people should be so lucky.
BULLET POINTS? YOU USED BULLET POINTS? DORK.
Old habits, sorry.
Many thanks to everybody who has offered assistance and good wishes. I may just take you up on that one day, but I’m lucky enough to have Celeste by my side. (Hooray for jobs with tenure!) And offers of help go both ways – if there’s anything you need from me, I’ll lend a hand as best I can.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, on the table in front of me is a beer with my name on it. And if I can’t find my name on the first beer, it’s definitely on the second one.
YET AGAIN, THINGS ONLY PARENTS SAY
You don't have to recycle boogers. Get a tissue.
Mommy made nice meatballs and you're chewing the tires on your brother's car instead?
I'll explain what "prairie dogging" is some other time.
I told you before, if you keep hitting the pumpkin with the mallet it's going to-- (sfx: mallet going through pumpkin, pumpkin goop gets on child's shoes, screaming ensues) See?
Mommy made nice meatballs and you're chewing the tires on your brother's car instead?
I'll explain what "prairie dogging" is some other time.
I told you before, if you keep hitting the pumpkin with the mallet it's going to-- (sfx: mallet going through pumpkin, pumpkin goop gets on child's shoes, screaming ensues) See?
Sunday, October 26, 2008
THE BIG BANG
4:45. House is spotless.
4:46. Children arrive home from birthday party.
4:48. House looks like a 300-pound pumpkin exploded inside a toy store.
4:46. Children arrive home from birthday party.
4:48. House looks like a 300-pound pumpkin exploded inside a toy store.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
ON THE KIDS' PLAYLIST
Beast:
Pinball Wizard - The Who
Sing A Simple Song - Sly and the Family Stone
Noodle:
Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive - Dr. John
Pinball Wizard - The Who
Sing A Simple Song - Sly and the Family Stone
Noodle:
Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive - Dr. John
Friday, October 24, 2008
FIFTEEN POUNDS OF CRAZY IN A FIVE-POUND SACK
My tiny little brain is still trying to re-absorb the week.
Noodle has been alternating between nightmares and needing the potty, Beast turned 3, the Nana had to be hospitalized for a bit of falling off the wagon, yours truly had to blow up his schedule for a three-hour congressional candidates' forum and then get said Nana off to the hospital, and Her Awesomeness has been lost somewhere in a cloud of flour as she attempted to bake Beast a birthday cake as well as a couple of banana breads for the big school bus driver's appreciation day today, plus it's over to Kingston for a lighting part that just came in so that I can fix the living room lights and then off to the Wal-Mart to return some insufficiently flattering Noodlewear. She's not being spoiled...it's just that she's 99th-percentile tall for her age and standard clothing sizes don't work all that often. Add that to Wal-Mart's superior quality control (/sarcasm) and it would have been less of a time-suck to buy the nicer stuff straight off, except that the bank account is approaching Bush-approval-rating levels.
Yeah, you caught that right, I'm doing electrical work. Red's hot, black's not, why is my hair sticking straight up and what's that burnt-flesh odor I'm smelling?
Noodle has been alternating between nightmares and needing the potty, Beast turned 3, the Nana had to be hospitalized for a bit of falling off the wagon, yours truly had to blow up his schedule for a three-hour congressional candidates' forum and then get said Nana off to the hospital, and Her Awesomeness has been lost somewhere in a cloud of flour as she attempted to bake Beast a birthday cake as well as a couple of banana breads for the big school bus driver's appreciation day today, plus it's over to Kingston for a lighting part that just came in so that I can fix the living room lights and then off to the Wal-Mart to return some insufficiently flattering Noodlewear. She's not being spoiled...it's just that she's 99th-percentile tall for her age and standard clothing sizes don't work all that often. Add that to Wal-Mart's superior quality control (/sarcasm) and it would have been less of a time-suck to buy the nicer stuff straight off, except that the bank account is approaching Bush-approval-rating levels.
Yeah, you caught that right, I'm doing electrical work. Red's hot, black's not, why is my hair sticking straight up and what's that burnt-flesh odor I'm smelling?
Saturday, October 18, 2008
OW
Note to self (and all other dads out there):
When giving your child a ride on your shoulders, do not give them a sippy cup or they will experiment with gravity and fluid dynamics using your scalp as a target. This is especially troublesome if, like me, you have a bald spot and if, like me, the beverage in question is cocoa.
Thanks a whole bunch for the spillage and sticky hair, son, but be aware that if you weren't so damn cute it would be on right now, ya little punk.
When giving your child a ride on your shoulders, do not give them a sippy cup or they will experiment with gravity and fluid dynamics using your scalp as a target. This is especially troublesome if, like me, you have a bald spot and if, like me, the beverage in question is cocoa.
Thanks a whole bunch for the spillage and sticky hair, son, but be aware that if you weren't so damn cute it would be on right now, ya little punk.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
WHAT, NO PONY?
Here are some little girls with some pretty cool grandparents. This is their playhouse:
Holy moly!
Lorraine was meticulous about every detail. The two-story dwelling was built just like a house, with real siding, windows and a roof. The exterior includes a front porch, a gazebo, a second-story deck and an attached garage to house the girls' electric toy cars, as well as gorgeous landscaping that includes flowers and plants.
450 square feet. That's bigger than our old apartment in Hyde Park. But I dunno...the Code of Building Stuff For The Kids dictates that all playhouses be built strictly of scrap lumber and other materials found lying around out behind the house, and there's a minimum number of protruding rusty nails required for that always-exciting possibility of a trip to the hospital for tetanus shots.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
ON THE KIDS' PLAYLIST
Beast: Yesterday I Had The Blues - Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes.
It goes something like this:
Awww, yeah.
It goes something like this:
Awww, yeah.
AVE ATQUE VALE, FAIR HOOVER
The faithful reconditioned Hoover Windtunnel that compliantly snarfed up eleven years' worth of stuff to which no self-respecting vacuum cleaner should be exposed has finally bought the farm. Our replacing the carpeting with laminate may have been the final insult to its dignity, but hey - the kids have allergies and the last tenant's dog dander was still in there someplace.
Hail and farewell.
Hail and farewell.
600 GREENLIGHTS
I'll be doggoned. The fine folks at Fark have seen fit to greenlight some more of my headline submissions, to the point where I have reached the magic 600 mark - and since most of what I submit over there has little if anything to do with raising young'uns, I am pondering an additional blog in which I might deposit whatever's not worthy for Boogerland.
In the meantime, not a day goes by where Noodle and/or Beast doesn't blurt out some new word you'd expect from somebody with a far more advanced vocabulary. Noodle for one is nailing the context, so she's not just parroting what Word Girl's saying. Brag brag braggity brag brag brag.
In the meantime, not a day goes by where Noodle and/or Beast doesn't blurt out some new word you'd expect from somebody with a far more advanced vocabulary. Noodle for one is nailing the context, so she's not just parroting what Word Girl's saying. Brag brag braggity brag brag brag.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
ON THE KIDS PLAYLIST
...is a Steely Dan album cut whose name eludes me because I put the mix CD together at random and it's out in the car and I'm too tired to go get it right now.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
THE $22,800 BABY MONITOR
Holy moly:
So not quite everybody is having trouble out there, seeing as they have 23 G's around to drop on a baby monitor.
So not quite everybody is having trouble out there, seeing as they have 23 G's around to drop on a baby monitor.Sunday, October 5, 2008
MOMMY AND DADDY: THE SCREENPLAY
Eat your heart out, David Mamet:
ME, cuddled with the kids:
Aww, honey. Look what I got.
WIFE:
How come Beast's not squirming like he usually does?
ME:
Because he's concentrating on eating his boogers.
WIFE:
Long as we don't waste any food...
You should hear some of the conversations that start with Her Awesomness saying "Brian, come here and look at your son." Usually it means he's butt naked and something from the condiment shelf is smeared all over his body.
Friday, October 3, 2008
WHY, THOSE ROTTEN GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SPOILED BRAT KI-- HEY, WAIT
AWESOME job, guys:
Themselves.
"It was our choice. Mom said we could have a little (regular) party or a big blowout party that donates," Matthew said. To the shock of their friends, they chose to donate. Now the boys have invited both their classes from Highland Elementary School, along with a few other friends and family, to their home Oct. 12.
The whole thing, you read it.
And for anybody in New York reading this, here's the links to many of the county-level groups who provide this kind of help.
They have most things kids their age want, the boys said. "We decided we want to give rather than get way too much," said Matthew, the older of the identical twins by 2 minutes. Last week, Mom and the boys were at Lloyd Town Hall and wondered why there was a line of people outside the building across Church Street. The people were waiting to get into the Highland food pantry of Ulster County Community Action. "So many people in this town are so poor," Andrew said. The boys didn't look the other way; they went across the street and inside. They looked at the half-bare shelves and saw a solution.
Themselves.
"It was our choice. Mom said we could have a little (regular) party or a big blowout party that donates," Matthew said. To the shock of their friends, they chose to donate. Now the boys have invited both their classes from Highland Elementary School, along with a few other friends and family, to their home Oct. 12.
The whole thing, you read it.
And for anybody in New York reading this, here's the links to many of the county-level groups who provide this kind of help.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
THE WISE HEADS OF THE SENATE PREVAIL FOR OUR CHILDREN
Hey, great. The Senate passed their version of the bailout bill, just tweaked a teensy bit from the original so that it's no longer a measly 3 pages, but 451.
Here's the full, gruesome PDF. Skip ahead to page 300 for the good stuff, to wit:
And so, parents of America, the answer to all our problems from the learned men and women of the Senate: yes, you WILL still be able to warn your kids that they'll put their eyes out playing with that stuff.
Here's the full, gruesome PDF. Skip ahead to page 300 for the good stuff, to wit:
Subparagraph (A) shall not apply to any shaft consisting of all natural wood with no laminations or artificial means of enhancing the spine of such shaft (whether sold separately or incorporated as part of a finished or unfinished product) of a type used in the manufacture of any arrow which after its assembly-
"(i) measures 5⁄16 of an inch or less in diameter, and "(ii) is not suitable for use with a bow described in paragraph (1)(A).''.
"(b) EFFECTIVE DATE.-The amendments made by this section shall apply to shafts first sold after the date of enactment of this Act.
And so, parents of America, the answer to all our problems from the learned men and women of the Senate: yes, you WILL still be able to warn your kids that they'll put their eyes out playing with that stuff.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
MESSING ABOUT ON FACEBOOK
You can go look me up on Facebook now and find (so far) a few pictures of the beastlings and a couple of me from the days when my mom thought I'd look good in lederhosen.
NOBODY looks good in lederhosen.
NOBODY looks good in lederhosen.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
MORE THINGS ONLY PARENTS SAY
"You can pee on the jellyfish, but you can't poo on the jellyfish."
See, Beast has a couple of toy jellyfish that he uses as targets to...oh, never mind.
See, Beast has a couple of toy jellyfish that he uses as targets to...oh, never mind.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
FLYING SOLO
Her Awesomeness was booked at her school's open house, and that meant me getting to show off my culinary skills for Beast and Noodle, who are generally skeptical if I so much as pick up a fork even though I've fancied myself at least competent in the kitchen.
In other words, yay for Lunchables and pizza delivery.
But the meal and the bathtime and bedtime went off with a minimum of drama and squawking, something I figure can be repeated on a regular basis so long as "once every six months" counts as regular.
In other words, yay for Lunchables and pizza delivery.
But the meal and the bathtime and bedtime went off with a minimum of drama and squawking, something I figure can be repeated on a regular basis so long as "once every six months" counts as regular.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
ON THE KIDS PLAYLIST
Beast:
Black Coffee In Bed - Squeeze
Cheap Sunglasses - ZZ Top
Noodle:
The Pigtown Fair - Tom Paxton
Dear Mr. Fantasy - Traffic
Said track I now have to track down for a new riding-home-from-school-with-Mom CD, since Dave Mason (once upon a time with Traffic) played a free concert in our town this evening and she and Beast were diggin' it.
Black Coffee In Bed - Squeeze
Cheap Sunglasses - ZZ Top
Noodle:
The Pigtown Fair - Tom Paxton
Dear Mr. Fantasy - Traffic
Said track I now have to track down for a new riding-home-from-school-with-Mom CD, since Dave Mason (once upon a time with Traffic) played a free concert in our town this evening and she and Beast were diggin' it.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
AND APPARENTLY I'M OKAY
Noodle and Beast were fascinated by the wires and electrodes and whatnot coming off the Holter monitor I was wearing yesterday. 24 hours of that attached to me was what I got for mentioning offhandedly to the doctor that every three or four weeks I have heart palpitations just as I'm drifting off to sleep. No biggy, sez he, but he had me wear the device as a precaution nonetheless. Which means that YOWCH the nurse OWWWW yesterday ARGHH pulled off YEOWWW seven AIYAYAYAYAAAGH electrodes from my MOMMY chest hair KELLYCLARKSON.
And supposedly I'm fine, though I could stand losing two or three stone. Hard to do what with me being married to a culinary genius whose family hails from the land that invented Molson and poutine.
And supposedly I'm fine, though I could stand losing two or three stone. Hard to do what with me being married to a culinary genius whose family hails from the land that invented Molson and poutine.
FOR NOW, THE SARLACC IS SATED
Five waffles the Beast ate tonight, plus a couple of eggs and half a cantaloupe. A growth spurt he is having, yes.
Om nom nom nom nom.
Om nom nom nom nom.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
I'M NOT DEAD...I THINK I'LL GO FOR A WALK...I FEEL HAPPY
Here's a change of pace: I'm taking me to the doctor's today. Overdue for a physical is what I am. Yeah, count me as another one of the geniuses who snapped out of it and called their doctors after Tim Russert dropped dead right there in the newsroom. And seeing as I spend much of my working life (like right now) in the newsroom I'd rather not go out Tim's way, and am hoping for something more along the lines of "shot by a jealous boyfriend at the age of 124."
Besides, as George Burns said, I can't die - I'm booked. It's my responsibility to repeatedly tell my daughter she's the most beautiful creature ever to walk the earth (well, she is) and make megaloud fart noises on my son's tummy.
Besides, as George Burns said, I can't die - I'm booked. It's my responsibility to repeatedly tell my daughter she's the most beautiful creature ever to walk the earth (well, she is) and make megaloud fart noises on my son's tummy.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
HER REMISSION, YOUR MISSION
Great news for Noodle: her Henoch-Schonlein purpura is finally officially in remission after two and a half years of treatments and medication, and her kidney function is back to normal, and we can take her off the blood-pressure medicine.
Her whothewhat? is in remission?
Don't worry; it's what we said too after the doctors told us that she didn't have leukemia, but she did have this disease that, to the eye, presents almost exactly like leukemia, but is so obscure it needs a name in German and Latin. It ain't fun. To oversimplify, your kid gets a cold, and then a week or so after it's over their immune system for unknown reasons is still looking for something to do, like it's got a case of the Reggie Hammonds: Let's see...what we can (mess) with next. And goes after the small blood vessels in the knees, ankles, elbows, intestines...and kidneys. It gets ugly on the inside and the outside (warning: graphic).
Flashback to spring '06. Most cases of HSP go away on their own in four to six weeks. No sweat, said Noodle's doctors. The kidneys are only affected in one out of ten cases.
Her kidneys were affected.
Still, not to worry - the kidneys only fail in one out of a hundred cases.
Um, yeah. Great. Bartender? Double scotch, straight. And a hug.
Those abdominal pains could be intussusception. Better get her up here.
We're in the spelling bee from hell now, too. Intussusception is when the intestine tries to fold in on itself. Potentially fatal if things get jammed up and infected. And "up here" was the emergency room up at Albany Medical Center, the closest place equipped to deal with Noodle's situation. It's a super place on a Friday night. Only one gunshot wound that evening. In the end, it was just some nasty inflammation down there so we got to go back home.
But we got real familiar with Albany Med over the next couple of years. Kidney biopsy (CHRIST, THAT'S A HUGE NEEDLE), blood tests, urine tests, yummy barium-schmutz drinks, x-rays, weekends of infusion therapy with massive steroid doses, delightful hospital cuisine, and our little girl was a champ through the whole thing. We almost forget that she was just two when all this started, and now...fingers crossed, everybody...it may just really, truly, be over and done with, maybe, we hope.
At any rate, if you're somebody like us who gets to 9/11 and gets the impression they should be doing something useful to the rest of society on the day but damned if they know what, you could do worse than to drop a little something in the bucket over at the Vasculitis Foundation, which does research on HSP and a passel of related diseases in the charming vasculitis family. If that doesn't strike your fancy, try www.mygooddeed.org, which can point you to local charities who could always use a spot of help.
Her whothewhat? is in remission?
Don't worry; it's what we said too after the doctors told us that she didn't have leukemia, but she did have this disease that, to the eye, presents almost exactly like leukemia, but is so obscure it needs a name in German and Latin. It ain't fun. To oversimplify, your kid gets a cold, and then a week or so after it's over their immune system for unknown reasons is still looking for something to do, like it's got a case of the Reggie Hammonds: Let's see...what we can (mess) with next. And goes after the small blood vessels in the knees, ankles, elbows, intestines...and kidneys. It gets ugly on the inside and the outside (warning: graphic).
Flashback to spring '06. Most cases of HSP go away on their own in four to six weeks. No sweat, said Noodle's doctors. The kidneys are only affected in one out of ten cases.
Her kidneys were affected.
Still, not to worry - the kidneys only fail in one out of a hundred cases.
Um, yeah. Great. Bartender? Double scotch, straight. And a hug.
Those abdominal pains could be intussusception. Better get her up here.
We're in the spelling bee from hell now, too. Intussusception is when the intestine tries to fold in on itself. Potentially fatal if things get jammed up and infected. And "up here" was the emergency room up at Albany Medical Center, the closest place equipped to deal with Noodle's situation. It's a super place on a Friday night. Only one gunshot wound that evening. In the end, it was just some nasty inflammation down there so we got to go back home.
But we got real familiar with Albany Med over the next couple of years. Kidney biopsy (CHRIST, THAT'S A HUGE NEEDLE), blood tests, urine tests, yummy barium-schmutz drinks, x-rays, weekends of infusion therapy with massive steroid doses, delightful hospital cuisine, and our little girl was a champ through the whole thing. We almost forget that she was just two when all this started, and now...fingers crossed, everybody...it may just really, truly, be over and done with, maybe, we hope.
At any rate, if you're somebody like us who gets to 9/11 and gets the impression they should be doing something useful to the rest of society on the day but damned if they know what, you could do worse than to drop a little something in the bucket over at the Vasculitis Foundation, which does research on HSP and a passel of related diseases in the charming vasculitis family. If that doesn't strike your fancy, try www.mygooddeed.org, which can point you to local charities who could always use a spot of help.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
RESISTANCE...GROWING...WEAKER
Gaaaah, my day job is eyeing my recreational bloggage and saying "how YOU doin', baby?"
I promise to you thatif when I give in to these base impulses I'll put the political stuff and other ranty things off on some other blog entirely, lest I destroy the goodwill built up with you and among my vast cadre of readers, who now number so many that they could easily fill a minivan.
I promise to you that
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
DAY ONE
There goes our little Noodle, off to dazzle the rest of the world with her intellect.
And in the open space on the bottom goes "To not kick my baby brother even if he did wear my princess hat."That was orientation day, only 90 minutes. The real first day was the next day. And away we go:
Here's Noodle on the bus. Not in the back with the hoods and greasers, not in the front with the goody two-shoeses. Just right:
I thought there was going to be drama and blubbering the first day, but nope. It's a lot different than when I headed off to kindergarten with a swat on the behind and a "See you when you're 17". Now there's an orientation assembly with parents and kids the first day, and us nervous parents can ask the teachers and principals whatever silly questions pop into our addled heads. I, for one, learned that there was nothing to the rumor that Padma Lakshmi was going to be the school's lunchlady this year. (Drat, said the dads.)
Sunday, September 7, 2008
ONE OTHER THING ONLY PARENTS SAY
Well, Beast asked, so we had to answer:
No, you can't be a "peenie" for Halloween.
Only barely did we keep straight faces.
No, you can't be a "peenie" for Halloween.
Only barely did we keep straight faces.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
MORE THINGS ONLY PARENTS SAY
"You peed on me - you owe me bigtime."
"Master Shifu was a panda so it was okay for him to not wear pants."
"Daddy is not going to explain his boogers to you."
"Awww...my little boy mooned Fenway Park."
(Well, he did. From our 12th floor room at the Cambridge Marriott last month. Fat lot of good it did the Yankees.)
"Master Shifu was a panda so it was okay for him to not wear pants."
"Daddy is not going to explain his boogers to you."
"Awww...my little boy mooned Fenway Park."
(Well, he did. From our 12th floor room at the Cambridge Marriott last month. Fat lot of good it did the Yankees.)
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
OH, THERE YOU ARE
Been swamped since last week - a couple weeks ago I banged my noggin on the five-foot-high door of our cheesy aluminum storage shed for the 187th time and said to Her Awesomeness never again. And so we bought a proper shed with human-sized doors and everything. Plus the new bookcase for the bedroom, and the new attic door to replace the old one that sounded like it was going to come crashing down at any moment, plus the new playset for the kids so we don't have to drop everything and go to the playground when they want to play outside, plus tomorrow is Noodle's first day of kindergarten, plus a cold has laid me out flat.
It all adds up to a shameful decline in posting quantity and quality. Now that school's back in session, I shall endeavor to improve.
Oh - here's something new. Mildly amusing T-shirts from my mildly amusing morning show:
make custom gifts at Zazzle
(...and if the Flash thingy ain't workin' right, go on over to Zazzle and search for "Obama parody" and it should come right up.)
It all adds up to a shameful decline in posting quantity and quality. Now that school's back in session, I shall endeavor to improve.
Oh - here's something new. Mildly amusing T-shirts from my mildly amusing morning show:
make custom gifts at Zazzle
(...and if the Flash thingy ain't workin' right, go on over to Zazzle and search for "Obama parody" and it should come right up.)
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
ON THE KIDS' PLAYLIST (ALPHABET SOUP EDITION)
I burned a whole bunch of new random mix CDs, and from this mess the little ones have chosen thus far:
Noodle: When Smokey Sings - ABC
Beast: Stand! - REM
Noodle: When Smokey Sings - ABC
Beast: Stand! - REM
THE NOODLE WENT DOWN TO GEORGIA
My little sweetie, she wants violin lessons.
"You stick the black thing under your chin, and then you take the bow and you go RROW RROW ZIZZ ZIZZ ZIZZ" is apparently how it works. So easy. Who knew? Itzhak Perlman, watch your back.
"You stick the black thing under your chin, and then you take the bow and you go RROW RROW ZIZZ ZIZZ ZIZZ" is apparently how it works. So easy. Who knew? Itzhak Perlman, watch your back.
Monday, August 25, 2008
5
Happy birthday, sweet Noodle:
And still the best birthday present I ever got. (Yes, way better than new golf clubs.)
And still the best birthday present I ever got. (Yes, way better than new golf clubs.)
Thursday, August 21, 2008
IN WHICH I MAKE AN EMBARRASSING DISCOVERY
While searching for the spool of line for the weedwhacker today, I found an ancient mixtape from a woman who may have wanted to be my girifriend many many years ago - and who then came to her senses and ran all the way back home to Wisconsin just to be on the safe side, because the 30-year-old me wasn't the amazing specimen of Compleat Manhood you see before you today.
Having seen the site "Cassettes from my Ex" a while back, I thought I'd write its story as best as I could recall.
Suffice to say I'm going to do my damndest to teach my little Beast not to make the same mistakes I made back then, because if there's one regret I have in my life it's that I didn't have it together enough to meet Her Awesomeness when I was younger, so that we'd have had that much more time together now.
I also wish I had it together enough to remember where the hell I put that spool.
Having seen the site "Cassettes from my Ex" a while back, I thought I'd write its story as best as I could recall.
Suffice to say I'm going to do my damndest to teach my little Beast not to make the same mistakes I made back then, because if there's one regret I have in my life it's that I didn't have it together enough to meet Her Awesomeness when I was younger, so that we'd have had that much more time together now.
I also wish I had it together enough to remember where the hell I put that spool.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
DULY NOTED
Home economics tips from the Times of London:
"When taking clingfilm from the dispenser to the dish, hold it flat over your bosom"Will do, chief.
Monday, August 18, 2008
WOOHOO - I'VE GOT A FAMOUS SPORTS INJURY!
This year, myself and Papi both have damage to the ulnar collateral ligament sections of our wrists - and that's where the similiarities end. He's getting $13 million and is beloved by all of Red Sox Nation whether or not he's on the DL, and I'm getting considerably less than that to strap on a splint and play hurt no matter what. I, however, am beloved by wife and children and teeming throngs (okay, dozens) of listeners to my radio station.
Message: when on a grocery errand, don't try to see how many bags you can fit in one hand, and when hoisting children do so one at a time. Failure to observe these precautions will come back to bite you. I'm anticipating needing a cortisone shot to knock the swelling down, and my wife the fitness goddess is smirking.
It's gonna hurt! Oh, yes it will...I couldn't even drive after I got mine, but I did anyway. And then I trained for the marathon.
Super. Just super. My wife's a freakin' warrior, my daughter sailed right through over two years of infusion treatments for a kidney condition with barely a whimper, my son had tubes surgically installed in his ears and shamelessly flirted with the nurses as soon as the anesthetic wore off...and I'm the little nancypants who's gone DEFCON 2 over a needle in the wrist. Well, I'll show them who's
(edited to allow author chance to regain consciousness and maybe even dignity, perhaps)
Message: when on a grocery errand, don't try to see how many bags you can fit in one hand, and when hoisting children do so one at a time. Failure to observe these precautions will come back to bite you. I'm anticipating needing a cortisone shot to knock the swelling down, and my wife the fitness goddess is smirking.
It's gonna hurt! Oh, yes it will...I couldn't even drive after I got mine, but I did anyway. And then I trained for the marathon.
Super. Just super. My wife's a freakin' warrior, my daughter sailed right through over two years of infusion treatments for a kidney condition with barely a whimper, my son had tubes surgically installed in his ears and shamelessly flirted with the nurses as soon as the anesthetic wore off...and I'm the little nancypants who's gone DEFCON 2 over a needle in the wrist. Well, I'll show them who's
(edited to allow author chance to regain consciousness and maybe even dignity, perhaps)
Sunday, August 17, 2008
ON THE KIDS' PLAYLIST
Noodle:
My Maria - B.W. Stevenson
Don't Let It Bring You Down - Neil Young
Beast:
It Doesn't Have To Be That Way - Blow Monkeys (but not the parts with the blatty 80's sax)
My Maria - B.W. Stevenson
Don't Let It Bring You Down - Neil Young
Beast:
It Doesn't Have To Be That Way - Blow Monkeys (but not the parts with the blatty 80's sax)
Friday, August 15, 2008
MORE THINGS ONLY PARENTS SAY
"DON'T try to put the donut on your peenie."
"Once again, a toot does not require an announcement. Only an 'excuse me'."
"Pull up your underwear and you won't faceplant in the bathroom."
"Just because Daddy likes to watch the crazy people at Wal-Mart doesn't mean it's polite to stare."
"I told the llamas in your dreams not to spit. Not even on your baby brother."
"Once again, a toot does not require an announcement. Only an 'excuse me'."
"Pull up your underwear and you won't faceplant in the bathroom."
"Just because Daddy likes to watch the crazy people at Wal-Mart doesn't mean it's polite to stare."
"I told the llamas in your dreams not to spit. Not even on your baby brother."
Thursday, August 14, 2008
JUST WHAT THE NOODLE ORDERED
So useful if you've got a little one venturing forth into kindergartenland: How To Tie Your Shoe (s). (Found on Parent Hacks)
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
FOR YOU ROMANTICS
During our trip we noticed that the garden at the Notchland has grown in amazingly well. If it's just the two of you getting away for that weekend in New England...kick it, Barry...the missus and I can hugely, enormously recommend it. Heck, the innkeeper doubles as a justice of the peace...in a town with a population of 42 that kind of thing happens...and will marry you two crazy kids like he did me and the missus. If you're roadtripping, it's almost exactly halfway between Boston and Montreal.
NOW MORE NOSHABLE THAN EVER
I've spent much of the evening improving the blog's list of Hudson Valley local and road-trip restaurants we've favored over the years. Most of them are reasonably kid-friendly and won't beat the living daylights out of your wallet unless you're ordering a big-ticket item. Noodle, for instance, has taken a liking to lobster. Since she's not normally the adventurous sort at the table, we sprang for the stuffed lobster at the Barking Crab during our vacation in Boston.
She liked it. Uh-oh.
Well, at least we've got another out if she wants a pony.
She liked it. Uh-oh.
Well, at least we've got another out if she wants a pony.
YE GODS, I'M BEING PRESURFED!
Welcome to Boogerland, and profuse thanks to The Presurfer for floating a plug my way. Come and set a spell; I hope you'll find it comfy. Allow me to introduce ourselves. First, that's me in the lederhosen up top. Ach du lieber, are those some sexy legs or what? Next come my amazing wife (Her Awesomeness) and the spawnlings:
That's my charming son (Beast a/k/a Li'l Sarlacc a/k/a The Ravenous Maw), fresh and clean from the tub and attempting to jam his bath crayon up my wife's nose.
The best birthday present I ever got: my sweet Noodle.Captured herein are the tales of our adventures, along with whatever catches my fancy when my attention inevitably wanders. Once again, welcome.
ADDENDUM: And in the spirit of what the Presurfer did for me, you can drop me an email if you'd like a blogplug. It's not like throngs hang on my every utterance, but what the hey.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
EIGHT DAYS THAT SHOOK - WELL, OUR BANK ACCOUNT
a/k/a the family vacation, from which we are now recovering - and in my own case we are literally recovering, because somewhere in the midst of repeated hoistings of Noodle and Beast into and out of cars, trains and theme-park rides, an occasional mild pain in my left wrist became a screaming needle of agony any time I picked up something heftier than the Sunday papers, and so I wait to see the doctor(s) while wearing a drugstore wrist brace that makes me feel like Earl Anthony. (Holy crow, that's a silly shirt Ernie Schlegel's wearing, even for 1981. I digress...)
New Hampshire is great for traveling with kids, and it'll get better once our little ones are more adept in the woods. The heavy rains kept us off the trails, but the mountains and waterfalls along 302 through Crawford Notch will keep the little ones plenty fascinated. And if you're sans kids or traveling with considerably older kids, right on 302 in the middle of the mountains in Hart's Location (population 40, tops) is the inn where Her Awesomeness and I got married, and it's a tremendously lovely and secluded place.
In New Hampshire there are still small-scale theme parks geared toward smaller children that are making a good go of it, from all appearances. We took in Santa's Village in Jefferson and Story Land in Glen, near our base in North Conway. Both will take up your full day quite nicely, and unlike more massive theme parks there's shade. From actual trees, even! Nothing like a 70-degree day in the mountains, even with drizzle, when you know your friends and co-workers back home are shvitzing through 85 and swampy.
The rain also washed out our planned trip to the beach, but the alternative was plenty good for kids: Boston. A great option is the Marriott in Cambridge across from MIT, which can be pricey as heck but often offers tremendous summertime deals, which we pounced on. The floor-to-ceiling windows could be a bit nervous-making at first, especially when Beast ran up to the window full-tilt before abruptly stopping. (Yeah, keep messing with mom and dad, kid.) With the T stop right across the street from the hotel, even at 22 bucks a day it's cheaper to leave the car in the garage for the duration. Get yourselves some CharlieCards from the MBTA and you're good to go. Most T stops have...get this, New York subway riders...actual working elevators! Amazing. Yes, some of them reek of urine, but still. It's a straight shot down the Red line to South Station, from which you can walk to the Children's Museum. The Red line also stops at Boston Common, and outbound it stops at Harvard in case you're doing college trips real early. Two train changes from the Red will get you to the New England Aquarium, and one will take you to Fenway Park.
Which my darling son mooned from the 12th-floor window. I'm so proud of him.
Photos and more info to follow...
New Hampshire is great for traveling with kids, and it'll get better once our little ones are more adept in the woods. The heavy rains kept us off the trails, but the mountains and waterfalls along 302 through Crawford Notch will keep the little ones plenty fascinated. And if you're sans kids or traveling with considerably older kids, right on 302 in the middle of the mountains in Hart's Location (population 40, tops) is the inn where Her Awesomeness and I got married, and it's a tremendously lovely and secluded place.
In New Hampshire there are still small-scale theme parks geared toward smaller children that are making a good go of it, from all appearances. We took in Santa's Village in Jefferson and Story Land in Glen, near our base in North Conway. Both will take up your full day quite nicely, and unlike more massive theme parks there's shade. From actual trees, even! Nothing like a 70-degree day in the mountains, even with drizzle, when you know your friends and co-workers back home are shvitzing through 85 and swampy.
The rain also washed out our planned trip to the beach, but the alternative was plenty good for kids: Boston. A great option is the Marriott in Cambridge across from MIT, which can be pricey as heck but often offers tremendous summertime deals, which we pounced on. The floor-to-ceiling windows could be a bit nervous-making at first, especially when Beast ran up to the window full-tilt before abruptly stopping. (Yeah, keep messing with mom and dad, kid.) With the T stop right across the street from the hotel, even at 22 bucks a day it's cheaper to leave the car in the garage for the duration. Get yourselves some CharlieCards from the MBTA and you're good to go. Most T stops have...get this, New York subway riders...actual working elevators! Amazing. Yes, some of them reek of urine, but still. It's a straight shot down the Red line to South Station, from which you can walk to the Children's Museum. The Red line also stops at Boston Common, and outbound it stops at Harvard in case you're doing college trips real early. Two train changes from the Red will get you to the New England Aquarium, and one will take you to Fenway Park.
Which my darling son mooned from the 12th-floor window. I'm so proud of him.
Photos and more info to follow...
Sunday, August 10, 2008
THANKS, YOU KIDS PARTYING IN THE PARK
Making an unholy racket at 2:45 in the morning today was actually helpful, seeing as I'm back to work at the station tomorrow and that's the schedule I need to be on.
I hope you had a pleasant encounter with the county sheriff's deputy who paid you a visit, also.
Next time, be more mellow and I won't have to call The Man to come hassle you. (That phrasing ought to work with the kids, long as it's 1972.) Pack out your empties and don't drive, and a swell time shall be had by all.
This shall be official Boogerland policy until such time as my daughter reaches her teenage years, at which point all yoots partying in said park will be greeted with a smile by Heinz and Klaus, our twin dobermans.
I hope you had a pleasant encounter with the county sheriff's deputy who paid you a visit, also.
Next time, be more mellow and I won't have to call The Man to come hassle you. (That phrasing ought to work with the kids, long as it's 1972.) Pack out your empties and don't drive, and a swell time shall be had by all.
This shall be official Boogerland policy until such time as my daughter reaches her teenage years, at which point all yoots partying in said park will be greeted with a smile by Heinz and Klaus, our twin dobermans.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
SO FAR, SO GOOD
We've been holding it to one meltdown a day, and that's not so bad. Today, however, is rainy in the White Mountains...and that means outlet shopping for fall necessities (yeah, that's the ticket, necessities) instead of the usual itinerary. Could work out well, could be a nightmare, will definitely eat a hole in the wallet.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
SERVICE ADVISORY
The clan is headed out on a weeklong road trip, so posting will be light (if any). See ya!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
SIGNS MY WIFE HASN'T HAD ENOUGH SLEEP
She just told me "I think I'll hit Wal-Mart with the kids tomorrow."
My wife hates Wal-Mart with the intensity of a thousand suns. Not for any political or labor-relations reasons, but just because it's a freak show. Me, I like freak shows because they're a fount of material for the radio show, but the kids really don't need to see the 250-pound tattooed woman in gold tights telling her troglodytic husband/boyfriend/rutting partner "Now this here aisle is the one I was in the last time I got kicked out."
How far off the bell curve of acceptable behavior do you have to be to get kicked out of a Wal-Mart?
And yet my wife is talking about going there tomorrow - with the kids, on a Friday, before a summer's weekend.
She will need a glass of wine tomorrow night. And a foot massage. I shall provide.
My wife hates Wal-Mart with the intensity of a thousand suns. Not for any political or labor-relations reasons, but just because it's a freak show. Me, I like freak shows because they're a fount of material for the radio show, but the kids really don't need to see the 250-pound tattooed woman in gold tights telling her troglodytic husband/boyfriend/rutting partner "Now this here aisle is the one I was in the last time I got kicked out."
How far off the bell curve of acceptable behavior do you have to be to get kicked out of a Wal-Mart?
And yet my wife is talking about going there tomorrow - with the kids, on a Friday, before a summer's weekend.
She will need a glass of wine tomorrow night. And a foot massage. I shall provide.
Monday, July 21, 2008
RAVE REVIEW: THE CATSKILL MOUNTAIN RAILROAD
They don't know me from Casey Jones, but they did right by the kids and my wife this past weekend up there in Phoenicia. Kept the Noodle and Beast entertained, absolutely buried them with arcane trainy details whose importance won't emerge in Beast's world for another year or three when he will explain to me the specs of the typical E2 Class 0-6-0T locomotive. It was 90something down here in the valley, but up there in the mountains under the trees, rolling down the tracks, sitting...
Sitting was what made my darling wife the happiest. Just to take a load off and enjoy the scenery for once.
Anyway, up in the Catskills it wasn't the shvitzfest it was down here where the Pepere and I got about two-thirds of the way through installing a new floor for the master bedchamber. I am the Pergo freakin' king, man. And by the way I'm digressing all over creation with this post, being cooped up in the bedroom with a bunch of flooring planks has made me (more) hinky. Back to the train, now.
www.catskillmtrailroad.com is where they're at. It's a straight shot out 28 from Thruway exit 19. Just keep going, and you'll know you're close when the tracks cross the road. A more peaceful 90 minutes with kids you will not find while awake.
14 bucks for the grown-ups, eight for kids 4-11 (but they let Noodle slide even though she's almost 5), free for the wee ones like Beast. That is one tremendous deal.
Sitting was what made my darling wife the happiest. Just to take a load off and enjoy the scenery for once.
Anyway, up in the Catskills it wasn't the shvitzfest it was down here where the Pepere and I got about two-thirds of the way through installing a new floor for the master bedchamber. I am the Pergo freakin' king, man. And by the way I'm digressing all over creation with this post, being cooped up in the bedroom with a bunch of flooring planks has made me (more) hinky. Back to the train, now.
www.catskillmtrailroad.com is where they're at. It's a straight shot out 28 from Thruway exit 19. Just keep going, and you'll know you're close when the tracks cross the road. A more peaceful 90 minutes with kids you will not find while awake.
14 bucks for the grown-ups, eight for kids 4-11 (but they let Noodle slide even though she's almost 5), free for the wee ones like Beast. That is one tremendous deal.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
ON THE LAMENESS OF RESTAURANT HIGH CHAIR STRAPS
Beast is beyond high-chair age now, but when we take the wee beasties to a restaurant we still have a look at their high chairs by way of divining how well they take care of kids and their general attention to detail. And if the high-chair straps suck eggs...we're outta there.
Heck yes it does. That's a piece from San Francisco, but with so many Culinary grads sticking around our region I'm hoping our local restaurants get on the ball and stay there.
Restaurant owners and operators: if a high chair is broken, fix or get rid of it. Or at least get it off the floor and away from staff and customers, who will try again and again to use it. I know restaurant work can be fast paced and hectic, but it seems like high chairs get the shaft, if my numerous outings are telling. That missing seat belt is a real bummer, since the high chair is unsafe to use without one. A wiggly kid could squirm, fall or otherwise risk injury. Bussers or managers should regularly check that the chair has all parts, isn't wobbly, and that the belt fastens and stays locked in position. When high chairs are presented as dirty, sticky, and/or missing a seat belt, it sends a message.
Heck yes it does. That's a piece from San Francisco, but with so many Culinary grads sticking around our region I'm hoping our local restaurants get on the ball and stay there.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
MORE THINGS ONLY PARENTS SAY (BEDTIME STORY EDITION)
"Yes, the Big Bad Wolf needed lotion on his butt after that."
"Sleeping Beauty was probably too old for night-time Pull-UpsTM."
"Prince Charming always shaved. Not like Daddy."
"They're fairies, so they can still fly okay even if they're a little chubby."
"Sleeping Beauty was probably too old for night-time Pull-UpsTM."
"Prince Charming always shaved. Not like Daddy."
"They're fairies, so they can still fly okay even if they're a little chubby."
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
IN WHICH I EXCORIATE THE ICE CREAM MAN
Diamond Dave says you roll at 11 in the morning. Not 8 at night when we're trying to put the kids to bed. You and your endless loop of Music Box Dancer and your bomb pops, you know where you can go, yes? Fie on thee.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
SPARKLEPOOP
The nearest Club Libby Lu to Boogerland is an hour away.
The nuances are obvious to you, the casual observer, but not to me, the guy who's schlepping the paint. And the flooring. And moving the armoire, and hauling the nasty old rug off to the dump, and I do believe I have the vapors just pondering the task.
This, we found today, is a tremendously good thing, for the Noodle was invited to a birthday party today at the Club, during which there was two solid hours of ear-splitting girlish squealing with occasional intervals of cake, pizza and commerce. Me and Little Mr. Creosote temporarily decamped to the nearby Chuck E. Fargin's for a few laps with the stationary Bob the Builder bulldozer before returning to collect our better halves. So yeah, that was me at the Galleria this afternoon with the giant Libby Lu bag. Inside the giant bag were various containers of beauty products, all of them redundant in my mind's eye since sending Noodle in for beauty treatments is like adding blue to the ocean. And as if to prove she's still daddy's little girl, she ate a goodly quantity of the body glitter while attempting to use it as lipstick - thus the title of this post, in anticipation of things yet to emerge. For emasculating myself so by hauling all this Libby Lu stuff about, Her Awesomeness has granted me a moment or two with you before returning to our latest home-improvement project: namely, re-painting the bedroom, because clearly this shade of blue:
is inferior to this shade of blue:
The nuances are obvious to you, the casual observer, but not to me, the guy who's schlepping the paint. And the flooring. And moving the armoire, and hauling the nasty old rug off to the dump, and I do believe I have the vapors just pondering the task. Wait, no, that's just the primer fumes.
Why is there a blue kitten in the scoop of the Bob the Builder ride's bulldozer? Is it some Tiananmen hommage or something, or does Bob have it in for the cat?
Thursday, July 10, 2008
ON DASHER, ON DANCER, ON ALAN DERSHOWITZ...
It would not be good for the kids to see the Santas in a rumble:
So warm and fuzzy.
The Amalgamated Santas, one of the nation's largest Santa groups, are dealing with a schism in their ranks. The rift has left burly bearded men accusing one another of bylaw violations, profiteering and behaving in un-Santa-like ways. Some Santas have filed complaints of wrongdoing against others in Kentucky and Pennsylvania.
(snip)
The Amalgamated Santas will be on high alert at their Kansas City convention, which starts Friday. The schedule is lighthearted: Events include a "Santa, Baseball and Me" charity night at the Kansas City Royals stadium. But at least one of the splinter Santas has let it be known he plans to drop by.
And Mr. Trolli says his family has been threatened by breakaway Santas, who deny it. "My children have been instructed that, if anyone looks like Santa, to run," Mr. Trolli says.
So warm and fuzzy.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
ONE NIGHT AWAY AND IT'S ALL SHOT
We finally had Noodle getting to sleep by herself, but last weekend she slept with Mommy for one night while we were away at the great-grandfather's big 90th birthday celebration. And now she's back howling at night and can't get to sleep without one of us there, or until she's completely fried from 90 minutes of bawling. So we're trying the pick-her-up don't-say-anything put-her-back-in-bed routine, and so far we have some very sore backs to show for it, but little in the way of success.
Beast, meanwhile, sleeps through all of this drama. We hope.
Beast, meanwhile, sleeps through all of this drama. We hope.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
HYPERMILING UPDATE (WEEKEND ROAD TRIP EDITION)
22.6, but that incorporates most of last weekend's trip to see the kids' great-grandfather in Massachusetts, during which we discovered what a speed table is while driving through lovely West Hartford.
A-ha, said my butt.
Because my speed table curiosity was still not sated and maybe yours isn't either, I found this here (PDF):
Deep stuff, this. I don't know of any speed tables in New York, but I've come across the odd hump here and there.
Oh, stop snickering.
Me: "Hon? That sign says 'speed table'. What's a speed table?"
Her Awesomeness: "Beats me, but YOU TWO STOP POKING AT EACH OTHER RIGHT NOW. NO POKE. NO POKE."
Me: "Hey, thanks. That cleared everything right up for me about those speed ta--"
WHOMP.
A-ha, said my butt.
Because my speed table curiosity was still not sated and maybe yours isn't either, I found this here (PDF):
Speed humps and speed tables are both raised areas on the surface of roadways that are usually 3.7 to 4.3 meters (12 to 14 feet) long (measured along the travel direction of the street) and 7.6 to 10.2 centimeters (3-4 inches) high. (There are also much shorter humps, typically referred to as bumps, used at grocery stores and other locations where very low speeds are desired.) Usually they are installed in a series about 100-200 meters (300-600 feet) apart. The main differences between humps and speed tables are:
• The speed hump has a rounded top while the speed table is flat-topped.
• The speed hump is slightly shorter than the speed table.
• Tables frequently have two 1.8-meter (6-foot) ramps on each side. (Typical length of a speed table is 6.7 meters (22 feet) with a 3.0-meter (10-feet) flat section.)
Deep stuff, this. I don't know of any speed tables in New York, but I've come across the odd hump here and there.
Oh, stop snickering.
Monday, June 30, 2008
ALL THE COOL STUFF HAPPENS WHEN WE'RE OUT OF TOWN
Bigfoot's here!
And now you know what the plural of "bigfoot" is. Don't say you never learned nothin' from me.
But this I don't get. Tool House Road runs just about parallel to the Thruway...
View Larger Map
And yet nobody on the Thruway saw it? I know people are pretty much on autopilot zooming up the Thruway, but lots of people are traveling with kids this week and you'd think one of them would pipe up with a DADDEE DADDEE DADDEEDADDEEDADDEE BIGFOOOT or something.
TOM Biscardi, founder and chief executive officer of Searching for Bigfoot Inc., said he assembled an eight-member team to investigate reports from a local resident who said she and her family saw creatures believed to be bigfoots on their Tool House Road property.
And now you know what the plural of "bigfoot" is. Don't say you never learned nothin' from me.
But this I don't get. Tool House Road runs just about parallel to the Thruway...
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And yet nobody on the Thruway saw it? I know people are pretty much on autopilot zooming up the Thruway, but lots of people are traveling with kids this week and you'd think one of them would pipe up with a DADDEE DADDEE DADDEEDADDEEDADDEE BIGFOOOT or something.
Friday, June 27, 2008
STAGGERING TO 200 (POSTS, THAT IS)
Staggering to the end of the school year as well - and that's only with Noodle and the Ravenous Maw in nursery school. Once the K-12 years begin, oy. On top of it, coming up we've got an overnight weekend trip to Woonsocket (from the ancient Wampanoag term for "place to plug in your woon") for the great-grandfather's 90th birthday celebration. Noodle is named after his late wife, which is what we like to think has helped keep him chugging along. The guy's got more hair on top of his head than I do, and can still pull off the white sport coat / yellow shirt / plaid pants look. Chicks dig him.
So we drag out the air mattress for our son, and amazingly the cheap Chinese electric pump, she no work. He's still a little small for sleeping on the big bed with me, so it's either lots of laboring over the foot pump on a hot summer's evening after a six-hour drive or a trip to the sporting-goods purveyors today for another pump.
Yeah, that's what I thought too.
So we drag out the air mattress for our son, and amazingly the cheap Chinese electric pump, she no work. He's still a little small for sleeping on the big bed with me, so it's either lots of laboring over the foot pump on a hot summer's evening after a six-hour drive or a trip to the sporting-goods purveyors today for another pump.
Yeah, that's what I thought too.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
GRADUATION SEASON CONTINUES
Noodle has a ceremony at her nursery school later today - which means that by this afternoon she'll have more academic credentials than I do.
SERVICE ADVISORY: We are considering changing Beast's name to the more specifically accurate Ravenous Maw, or possibly The Sarlacc for added nerd value. The boy can eat. Dante or Star Wars...decisions, decisions.
SERVICE ADVISORY: We are considering changing Beast's name to the more specifically accurate Ravenous Maw, or possibly The Sarlacc for added nerd value. The boy can eat. Dante or Star Wars...decisions, decisions.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
THANKS A BUNCH, JOHNNY DAMON
Cashed in my Father's Day treat a week late and went to the Reds-Yankees game at the Stadium this afternoon with my sister's family, and no sooner had I settled into my seat than...
...say, that foul ball could be headed this way. Right this way, in fact. Maybe I'd better try to OW OW OW OW OW MY LEG MY LEG MY LEG SON OF A better calm down my seven-year-old niece is right behind me and cursing shan't be done.
I may be the only person in the 85-year history of the Stadium to take a foul ball off the shin while sitting in the front row. Nice shot, Johnny. Bet you a week's pay you can't do it again.
And there I was hoping for a moment that I'd have a souvenir for the kids and a story to tell. If that welt gets any bigger I'll at least have the story part. My sister springs for the 12-dollar beer and I'm using it as a cold pack, and meanwhile the fat schlub next to me is showing off the ball like he was Mattingly scooping it backhanded out of the dirt. Oh, give it a rest.
Reds 6, Yanks 0 by the way. The Yanks sure are lucky Cincinnati only comes to town every 30 years or so.
...say, that foul ball could be headed this way. Right this way, in fact. Maybe I'd better try to OW OW OW OW OW MY LEG MY LEG MY LEG SON OF A better calm down my seven-year-old niece is right behind me and cursing shan't be done.
I may be the only person in the 85-year history of the Stadium to take a foul ball off the shin while sitting in the front row. Nice shot, Johnny. Bet you a week's pay you can't do it again.
And there I was hoping for a moment that I'd have a souvenir for the kids and a story to tell. If that welt gets any bigger I'll at least have the story part. My sister springs for the 12-dollar beer and I'm using it as a cold pack, and meanwhile the fat schlub next to me is showing off the ball like he was Mattingly scooping it backhanded out of the dirt. Oh, give it a rest.
Reds 6, Yanks 0 by the way. The Yanks sure are lucky Cincinnati only comes to town every 30 years or so.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
THIS OUGHTA BE GOOD
Last summer Noodle lost her favorite ladybug backpack and stuffed chihuahua at the New England Aquarium in Boston.
Or so we thought.
Turns out it was stashed away in the garage for almost a year, and only now did we find it. Her Awesomeness has just put them in the bed where Noodle now sleeps.
It ought to be a fun morning.
Or so we thought.
Turns out it was stashed away in the garage for almost a year, and only now did we find it. Her Awesomeness has just put them in the bed where Noodle now sleeps.
It ought to be a fun morning.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
PIGEONS ARE AS SMART AS 3-YEAR-OLDS
This much I suspected...
Well, heck - they fly around enough art museums, you'd think they'd pick it up sooner or later.
At least my kids don't leave fifty tons of sh*t on the Foreign Office roof.
Japanese scientists from Keio University have found that pigeons have self-cognitive abilities higher than 3-year-old humans. They have 'trained pigeons to discriminate real-time self-image using mirrors as well as videotaped self-image, and proved that pigeons can recognize video images that reflect their movements as self-image.' Until recently, it was widely admitted that only humans and primates such as chimpanzees could recognize images of themselves. Now, researchers have found that dolphins or elephants also could do it. But these Japanese scientists have proven that pigeons also were able to do it -- and even discriminate paintings of Van Gogh from Chagall.
Well, heck - they fly around enough art museums, you'd think they'd pick it up sooner or later.
At least my kids don't leave fifty tons of sh*t on the Foreign Office roof.
HYPERMILING UPDATES
21.8 - pretty good considering there was lots of random driving around with sleeping kids in the car, plus that hellacious heat wave which meant lots of cranked A/C.
Gassed up again today and got a 21.2.
Gassed up again today and got a 21.2.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
PLUMB WORN OUT
Give it up, first of all, for the good people at the Mohonk Preserve for the Father's Day hike they organized. They do all sorts of guided hikes and such for all skill/endurance levels, and this one was perfect for a two-year-old, a four-year-old, and their fat dad. (As for Her Awesomeness, when we were finished with the hike she was ready for a rock scramble while I was shvitzing like Patrick Ewing.)
Ach! Look at the time. And me, not done with my show-prep for Monday. Recaps and catching-up and such...later.
Ach! Look at the time. And me, not done with my show-prep for Monday. Recaps and catching-up and such...later.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Sunday, June 8, 2008
IN WHICH BEAST MARKS HIS TERRITORY
The little guy peed standing up in the potty for the first time today!
He also peed standing up in the kitchen, in the living room (twice), and in aisle C47 at Target.
He also peed standing up in the kitchen, in the living room (twice), and in aisle C47 at Target.
HYPERMILING UPDATE
22.6 - a new high! Took the Boogermobile in this week for some regular service and a touch of wheel alignment; maybe that's what did the trick.
ON THE KIDS' PLAYLIST
Beast:
I Got You - Split Enz
Black Coffee In Bed - Squeeze
Noodle:
Ants on a Log - Randy Travis
I Got You - Split Enz
Black Coffee In Bed - Squeeze
Noodle:
Ants on a Log - Randy Travis
Thursday, June 5, 2008
BEDTIME WIG-OUT II: LI'L KRAKATOA
Oy, Noodle was at it again this evening. Wonderful 'til bedtime and then came the eruption, this time with twitching and bucking and say, do you think Father T would mind doing an exorcism before he retires? Is Max von Sydow still alive? (At press time, yes.)
THE OTHER SHOE
The kids came home and were wonderfully sweet at dinner. Even washed their hands without needing to be asked. Didn't get picky about their food and Beast didn't use his cup of chocolate milk as a fingerbowl...much. Got through bath time without a hitch even though I had to zoom out for an hour for a radio station event that coincided with their baths. Got them in their jammies without fighting, cuddled and read them their stories, got them to the potty, and then...from out of nowhere...
An hour of squalling from Beast and 90 minutes of it from Noodle. What. The. Heck?
An hour of squalling from Beast and 90 minutes of it from Noodle. What. The. Heck?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
HYPERMILING UPDATE
Down to 20.4, mainly because Her Awesomeness had to deal with the Route 9 stop-n-go grind for a couple days. Note to the DOT: the timing of the lights on Route 9 through Poughkeepsie and Wappingers is dreadful. Snap out of it already. (/tilting at windmills)
Also, there was considerable idling at The Nana's place as we waited for her to get ready for a trip.
Also, there was considerable idling at The Nana's place as we waited for her to get ready for a trip.
Monday, June 2, 2008
INTRODUCING EARL THE BABY MONSTER
Earl is Noodle's imaginary friend, whose family left him behind in the bathroom while on vacation. I will attempt to get Noodle to expound more on her relationship with Earl (gray, furry, two eyes, no antennae, funnel-shaped ears, little tiny tail) in the not too distant future.
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