Speed round

Remember when you were a kid and you had that one older cousin who would throw a baseball at you when you least expected and say "think fast!"? I have now worked my way up to a rank similar to that of older cousin, but, don't worry, I will give you a quick heads up before the baseball comes whipping toward your nose. Think fast.

Our fireplace finally has some competition for Zach's attention. The fish tank has become his new favorite place of pilgrimage and he actually enjoys being in his high chair now where he can see all of the fish eye to eye. Goldie, which is the one fish in the tank in possession of a name who also appears to be the most sickly (in accordance with Murphy's law) is usually swimming in little circles and barrel rolls (I'm not a vet or anything but I'm pretty sure that's not a good sign) over near Zach's side of the tank keeping him entertained for the time it takes me to get lunch ready. Hang on Goldie, Goldie hang on.

Yesterday evening, Elijah and I went on a bike ride up to my favorite coffee shop to get a couple pounds of beans. As we rode along the sidewalk through our neighborhood, I saw up ahead a dip with a small concrete curb ramp on the other side. Since I still have some residual adrenaline coursing through my veins from watching Evel Knievel as a kid, I decided to pull up the handlebars and jump it. Boy, was it fun. A few seconds later I heard Elijah's voice pipe up from behind me, "Dad, you're not setting a very good example." His point was reluctantly taken.

I'm pleased to say that we are somewhat back on track with Amelia's potty training. Today was the first time in about five months that she went pee on her potty. Of course, the lid was closed and she was standing on it, but at least she made the connection of being at the right place at the right time. We'll work out the details later.

Did you catch it?

kluvuby

Just for laughs

Hi, honey. How's Boston?

A big congrats to the Boston Celtics on the ending of their 22 year title-less drought yesterday evening. It was a powerful performance to end the season and, on top of that, a few NBA records set to boot. Great job, guys, and not just the Boston three party.

We have been in soccer camp the last couple of days, well, at least Elijah has. Amelia, Zach and I have been along for the ride to cheer big brother on. Being on the sidelines has brought on the most challenging task ever posed to toddlers; how to remain a non-participating spectator. Elijah and all his teammates make soccer look like so much fun that it's hard for Zach and Amelia to not to want to join in. Amelia immediately grabs a ball and runs out on the field to join them with Zach crawling close behind (although Zach usually stops before he gets there to pick a clover blossom and try to eat it). To keep them on our picnic blanket, I employ the only method I can think of to divert their attention away from the big kids playing, which is, of course, snacks. As long as they stay hungry, they will stay close by their biter biscuits, wagon wheels, and veggie crisps. When they get filled up and tired of watching other kids have fun, I load them into the double jogger and explorer the neighborhood until camp lets out. It is these times, consequently, for which I am thankful to no longer be a Florida resident.

Help Wanted

I know that this blog was set up with the expressed purposed of posting über-cute pics of our wee lads and lasses but, every once in a while, you will notice that something will get posted breaking the mold of what one usually expects to find. It's always been a part of my nature to poke my head out of the box to have a peek at what’s outside the allegorical platonic cave, so if you want to stay along for the ride, you will occasionally need to take these pit stops with me. It's all part of what makes life interesting.

With that preparatory introduction, I will now share with you an amusing story of what happened to me on my father’s day when we went to get some fish to put in Elijah's new aquarium. Right now, my wife Nadine is reading this, shaking her head and saying aloud, "oh, no he isn't!" It is my sad duty to inform her that in fact; yes, I am.

Elijah and I have been busy the last few days turning his new aquarium into a homey habitat suitable for submarine specimens. The tank was a present from our dear friend Kevin, whom which we will think of and thank every time we gaze upon this beautiful addition to our dining room. To make a long story short, (since it is a sunny day and the kids don't tend to nap quite as long) yesterday was the day we finally had the tank ready for the fish.

I pulled the car into a parking space one row over from the pet shop and we all climbed out. As we were walking across the lane I noticed that there was a black pick up truck stopped there waiting for a space to become open. The moment we stepped behind the truck, the reverse lights came on and it started backing. "Whoa there", I said to the driver as any instinctual parent will do when they are walking with their six year old son and carrying their one year old daughter. A young woman with light blond hair in the passenger seat leaned out of her window and shouted, "We weren't going to hit you!! What the heck does it look like, we're hecking blind?!!!" Except the word heck had an extra "p" at the beginning and an extra "u" somewhere in the middle.

Somewhat shocked and dumbstruck by this young woman's remark, I just calmly said back to her, "Happy father's day." She didn't quite get that I was subtly asking her to kindly censor her vocabulary in the interest of little pitchers with big ears and she screamed at the top of her lungs, "Heck you, you hecking apple." (This is a day care blog, gosh darn it, and it's going to stay that way). Eloquence was not one of her finer points.

As Nadine and I reached the store we both looked at each other and shook our heads in disbelief at the exchange which had just transpired; then carried on with our original mission of acquiring some fishy friends.

A couple of minutes later, a young woman that looked quite similar to the one I had encountered in the parking lot walked into the store. The man she was walking with had the same curly brown hair as the one who was driving the truck, also. Hmm, I thought, I wonder if those are our new best buddies? But didn’t really give it much more thought. Soon after, though, Elijah and I were scanning the tanks for critters that might fit our budget and, out of the corner of my ear, I swore I heard the girl say to the young man, "I don't think he recognizes us". The clues were starting fit into place.

We received assistance from a very helpful young woman who advised us on some fish breeds that were particularly hardy and not all that expensive; so we picked out three of the feistiest ones we could find and walked back to the cash registers with our fish bag. In a bizarre coincidence, the blond woman I saw earlier was standing behind our cashier on another register ringing up some personal items she herself was purchasing.
"Does she work here?" I inquired to the woman assisting us.
"Uh huh." She replied.
The young woman at the other register shifted her head to the side to listen in on our conversation and I could see that her face was beginning to turn bright red.
"Does her boyfriend drive a black pick up truck that's kind of beat up?" I continued.
"Yes, he does." she answered as her smile took on a more concerned expression.
"Could I get the information for your district manager and the associate’s name standing behind you?"
"Yes, of course."
I explained the story to our clerk, who happened to also be the assistant manager, and she very cooperatively gave all the information I needed. We packed up and left the store to go introduce our new pets to their new home.

I was in the process of fastening Amelia's seat belt when the couple walked out of the aquarium shop toward the parking lot. As they walked to their truck the young man shouted, "see you later" and gave me this strange backward peace sign with the pointer finger curiously unextended.

To his farewell remarks I simply replied, "Good luck" and waved.

This morning I had a nice conversation with the district manager to explain what had happened in the parking lot of one of his stores and that the guilty party was actually an off duty employee who was there getting pet supplies. I gave him my name and phone number and asked him to give me a call when the situation was addressed.

He gave me a call back in less than an hour to advise me the employee in question had been terminated. He apologized wholeheartedly and said that he hoped we would continue to do business with his company. I replied to him, "We will never buy fish from a store other than yours." He really was a great guy.

All day I keep thinking of a quote from the movie "Friday" where Chris Tucker asks Ice Cube, "Now, how the heck do you go and get fired on your day off?"

Schools out for ever

In case I forgot to tell you, which I have, school is out for the summer. This means there are now three youngsters in the house, one of those having a share on computer time making it even more difficult to rap at you nap time. Speaking of which, he is right now leaning over my shoulder asking, "Are you done yet? Are you done yet? Are you done yet?"

Yes, Elijah. I'm done.

Pac Zach

Life just got easier. Whereas in past attempts at laying Zach down for nap-time, he would often cry as if he were at the start of a 6 to 10 year stint at Sing Sing, these days he retires without word one of arguement. He just snuggles up with his blanket, tucks his knees under his belly and closes his eyes as soon as I lay him down. Even though I knew when his cries were forced (The second syllable of his fake cry always starts with the letter "h"), it still is not easy to listen to it even when you know it's just because he's too tired to fall asleep; so, we're both just a tad happier as a result of this development.

Amelia is in the process of distinguishing herself from the rest of the animal world by learning to use eating utensils. I'm still trying to figure out which foods are more conducive to this learning curve mainly by whether or not the food will hold to the spoon when the concave side becomes convex. So far, mashed potatoes and thick banana oatmeal are the favorites. For lunch yesterday, I had given Amelia a bowl of orzo, which, by the way, does not stick to the spoon but does stick to clothing. By the time she had "finished" with lunch she looked like an off-white fish covered in little mushy almond shaped scales. As I walked her over to the sink to get her cleaned off, the orzo dropped to the floor creating a dotted line all the way from her high chair to the kitchen. Since Zach is still in full foraging mode with his little particle pinchers, I figured I should pick up all the orzo before he transformed into Pac Man and started chomping his way down the trail of dots. Wakka wakka wakka.

Forever in cool genes

I feel bad for women. It must be absolutely exhausting for them to sustain this ever present facade of not possessing the same dork genes that men have. Whereas a man will typically just blurt out every thought like soda side effects, women will carefully sift each and every idea through a series of perception filters forming a canvas by which she paints herself for the world to see. Even if she does decide to consciously allow something out of character to leak through past her portal of judgment, it will still sound 80% less dorky than if said by a man based only on womankind's established reputation of prudence. It is ultimately the man's role to say and do geeky thing things while it is the woman's tireless duty to roll her eyes and look away not giving in to that witty comeback she has sitting right on the tip of her tongue lest she give dignity to possibly the dumbest thing she will hear all day. I just want to say, ladies, I feel your pain.
And for those too cool-for-skool frat guys who claim to speak nothing but pure rico suave; news flash, to be a spectator of a professional sport is kind of a nerdy thing, too. Don't get me wrong, I love sports and wholeheartedly encourage participation and teamwork as a means to establish positive foundational roles for children to strive for, but the concept of sports spectatorship is the Saturday morning cartoon equivalent of the runt dog on Bugs Bunny who hops around his bulldog friend trying to convince him to pick fights with cats. You, too, are not immune to dorkdom.

Go Celtics.

Want to help with our garage sale in 2012?

To be the first grandchild on both mom's and dad's side affords some privileges not privy to most other kids except perhaps for their younger siblings. One of such spoils is receiving all the pent up toy purchases that grandparents had been itching to make for the last eighteen years. Elijah is one such of these lucky fellows and has accumulated a plethora of toys over the years, most of which we held onto foreseeing possible future baby/ies in the picture. Even with our living room full of the most recent birthday offerings, we haven't even yet broken into the bins in our basement filled with enough Little People toys to create an actual life size replica of Los Angeles. It can be overwhelming at times, when trying to figure out which are within the range of being age appropriate, fun, or the least weapon-like; and when to rotate them out. Furthermore,trying to find out which ones have the coveted rechargeable batteries when a new toy enters the home is like searching for a beetle in a Sleestak. To Zach and Amelia's joy,though, they always have plenty of things to explore and occupy themselves throughout the day, no matter which ones we need to make disappear.

So, which toy is their favorite of the bunch? That's easy...which ever toy the other one is playing with right now.