Good ideas that go bad

Ever have one of those good ideas that just doesn't work out like you envisioned it?

Monday was Kirsten's birthday. I got the bright idea to have the kids make her a card and inside we would paste to pictures with the kids in the shape of numbers that depicted her age. So I decided to take two pictures with the lying kids on the floor in the shape of a 3 (Kirsten is 30 something). As you can see, the youngest child was less then thrilled with the idea. I thought that she would be all right since her siblings were laying down there also.

Needless to say, the second number in Kirsten's age only had two of her children in it.

Goal Completed

This post is mostly about me. Which is to say, that even thought this my achievement, it couldn't have been done with out support of the family.

Anyway, on Saturday I got my Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do. It took me three years and a lot of trials, both physical and mental. Due to some injuries (not from Tae Kwon Do), I almost quit a couple of times and it wasn't easy on the family for me to be gone two evenings a week. Still, I reached me goal and am very proud of it.

I realize that I have my family to thank for it.

My son is an actor

Yesterday, I went to pick up my son from his last dress rehearsal. Tonight is opening night. I got there a little early, so I went into the dressing area to wait. There were several people in there, including Patrick. A couple were reading books. A few others were chatting. Patrick was laying back in a chair with his eyes half-closed

In the corner is a television that is hooked up to display what is happening on stage. No one was even watching it however.

I asked Patrick, "Aren't you in this scene?"

"Yes."

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"Henry still has to get through the rocking horse speech."

"Oh," I said, hoping that he really knows what is going on.

About four minutes later, as if on cue, every single person there (except me) stood up simultaneously and marched up stairs. They were calm and relaxed and showed up just in time to walk out on stage, in character, to do there stuff. Patrick was right in there among them. It seemed impressive to me.

I am one proud papa.

Don't go in the house

Yesterday afternoon I got an interesting call from my son. It went something like this:

"Hi, Dad," (shaky voice)

"Patrick, what's wrong?" (worried voice)

"I tried to call Mom three times, but I couldn't get through." (Great, second fiddle to Mom again)

"Well, she will be home soon to get you. Just be patient."

"OK, but I when I got home the front and back doors were both wide open."

"WHAT?! Where are you now?"

"I am in the house."

"WHAT?!"

"Don't worry, I checked the whole house and there isn't anyone here."

"WHAT?!?!?! You go outside, in the front, on the street and wait for you Mother there."

"It's OK, I took the dog with me."

Yea, our dog is a major wimp. Once, I woke up and saw her backing into our bedroom with her hackles up. I thought there was an intruder, but it turned out to be one of our own cats that she was afraid of.

Needless to say I am trying to come up with a new phrase for this emergency situation. Something like "Stranger Danger", but I can't think of anything cute. The best I have is "Front Door Open? BAD, go to the neighbors!"

Blank Spots

On Saturday night Kirsten gave me my semi-annual haircut. This is a fairly quick procedure using a set of electric clippers with a number eight attachment. She hacks off about three inches of hair and I am good for the next six months. It takes about ten minutes for the haircut and half an hour for me to vacuum all the hair up in the bathroom.

Anyway, I have been developing a nice receding hair line over the last decade or so and these types of haircuts really bring that out. I don't really mind, I am not that much to look at anyway and a stylish haircut won't make that much difference. Still, I was a bit surprised the next morning when the first thing out of Emily's mouth were, "Daddy, I can see your blank spots!"

How do they sleep like that?

It never ceases to amaze me how children can sleep in some of the oddest positions. This is followed closely by amazement at how they can flop around during the night. If I were to go and check on my girls several times during the night, they will never be in the same position. Here is an example of how we found Kaitlyn during one of her naps.

Friday is Tomorrow

Emily, our three-year old, is learning the days of the week. Well, sort of. OK, OK, so she only knows Friday. Actually, what she knows is that on Fridays, she gets a treat as she leaves daycare.

Yesterday (Thursday), she didn't want to go to daycare, so Kirsten said, "It's Thursday and tomorrow it will be Friday and you will get a Friday Treat." Yay, everything is good, Emily is distracted and off to daycare. However, when I picked her up yesterday afternoon, she wants her Friday Treat. It turns out that she doesn't have a good grasp of 'tomorrow' and when that happens. It was Thursday this morning, isn't it Friday by the afternoon. How long does Thursday last anyway.

I can tell you how long Thursday lasts. Forever. Especially when you have a broken hearted girl in the back seat crying her eyes out, because she truly thought she was getting a Friday Treat.

Later that night, Emily comes up to me and asks if it was Friday yet. I think that I finally got through to her that 'tomorrow' doesn't occur until you wake up in the morning.

Crazy is, as Crazy does

Call me crazy (my wife does), but I am going to be joining the 40 and over Men's Baseball team again this year. I can't help it. As anyone who knows me can attest, I am a baseball fan. I wouldn't say that I am a fanatic. I don't watch a ton of baseball on TV, heck I only watch my favorite team (Go Mariner's) once or twice a week. I don't own season tickets to the local 'Single A' Team, even though they are only 4 miles from my home (I make it to two or three games a year). I only have one piece of autographed baseball paraphernalia, a Nolan Ryan baseball given to me by my sister (right here on my desk).

So, I am not a fanatic, but I am fan. There is just something about the game. Maybe its the sights and sounds, the smell of the outfield grass, the blue of the sky, the warmth of the sun, the crack of the bat, the pop of the ball into your glove. Maybe its the difference of the game, the only one (in the US) where the defense has the ball, there isn't a time limit, the rules allow for cheating (stolen bases). Maybe it is the personal nostalgia, memories like playing catch with Grandpa, my first extra base hit, making the game winning catch, waving back to my dad watching on the sidelines.

So, I am going to join a baseball team again this year. Why is that crazy? Well, first lets recap the definition of crazy. One definition of crazy is "Repeating the same actions again and again, while expecting different results." OK, keeping that in mind, lets examine the last three times I played organized baseball or softball.

- 2000 - joined a softball team. Twisted my ankle so badly at the FIRST PRACTICE that I was out for the entire summer.
- 2001 and 2002 - intelligently refrained from joining any teams
- 2003 - joined a softball team. Twisted my ankle and sprained my knee sliding in to second base during the FIRST GAME. Was able to heal enough to hobble out for the last three games of the season.
- 2004 - intelligently refrained from joining any teams
- 2005 - joined a baseball team. Tore a muscle in my right quad sprinting to second during the FIRST GAME. Tried playing the second game, but ended up out for the season. Now I have an irreparable injury. After an MRI and CAT Scan, the doctor determined that one of the four muscles in my right quad is completely torn and cannot be fixed. I now have only three muscles in my right quad.
- 2006 - joined a baseball team again!!!!! Haven't started yet, so the season still looks pretty bright.

I am an optimist!

Play Rehearsal Gets Hellish

Those of you reading this blog have heard about the amount of time required of Patrick for the play that he is in. Well, it has gone to truly insane levels. It is nothing out of the ordinary, but a lot more than we ever expected.

Sunday was Tech Day. This is the day where they get all of the lighting setup. Spotlights, fade-ins, fade-outs, etc. There is really no rehearsing. The actors just move from one position to the next and stand there while they get the lighting figured out and programmed. It is extremely boring for and 11-year old boy. Especially when it starts at 10:00 AM and doesn't end until 7:00 PM. They did break for a potluck meal at 4:00 PM for 30 minutes or so. Actually it didn't even end at 7:00 PM, but Patrick wasn't needed anymore for that and so was allowed to leave.

We dropped Patrick off at 10:00 AM and then Kirsten returned at 3:30 PM, so she only had to wait around for a little over 4 hours. It wasn't all boredom for her however, she got to fill in for one of the actresses that was unable to be there.

Doctor heal thy ... own family

Last Wednesday Patrick fell down in the kitchen. The combination of linoleum, his feet in socks and his excellent coordination (not) did him in. He was attempting to kick one of his sisters toys out of his way. Well, when he fell he injured his left wrist. We iced it for a while that evening before his play rehearsal and gave him some pain medication before bed.

The next day it was still a little swollen. We sent him to school with a note to get him out of PE if it was hurting too bad. When he got home, both Kirsten and I called from work to see how he was doing. We figured if it was still bad, he needed to see a doctor. Anyway, he told us that his arm was OK and that he had participated in PE also. OK, cool, no problem.

After work, I picked up the girls from daycare and called to ask him to open a couple cans of ravioli and a can of corn to heat for the kids dinner. We only have 20 minutes for dinner before we have to leave for his play rehearsal. So I get home to find my son sitting on the floor trying to hold the can with his feet and open it with one hand while tears are streaming down his face. It turns out the his arm is OK as long as he doesn't move it. Also, PE was badmitton which only requires the use of one arm.

OK, so we made an appointment for him to see a doctor the next day. This was a bit of an adventure, seeing as how our insurance has just changed. You have to figure out who is one of the "providers" for you insurance, then determine which of them are excepting new patients, then determine if they have any openings. We finally settled on a single doctor practice next door to our girls daycare. The front staff seemed very nice, he seemed have all the proper credentials and they worked with us to try and get Patrick in at a good time.

Well, the doctor is really nice and very laid back. He likes to be called Ron and not doctor. He told Kirsten that he could save her some money if she would X-Ray Patrick's arm at her Vet Clinic, then she could bring that back and he would interpret them for us. He seemed somewhat surprised that she had not done this already. It seemed a little weird to us, but that is what we did. We are not even sure if it is completely legal!

Anyway, after all of that, it turns out the Patrick has a "Buckle Fracture" in the larger of the two bones in his left forearm, close to his wrist. He only needs to wear his splint for two weeks to keep his wrist immobile and everything should be fine. Also, he take it off for the play.

Talking with your teen (or preteen)

I consider myself a decent parent. We try and do everything we can for our kids. Things like taking Patrick to his theatre rehearsal four nights a week from 6:30 to 9:30. It is a community theatre play, not a school play, thus the long rehearsal hours. Also, we try and talk with him about his school days. What happens? How is it? What homework do you have? You can guess the pat answers that are returned.

Oh, he tells us quite a bit. We know a lot about his current girlfriend and his old girlfriend. We just have to wait until he is ready to talk about it. The trick is getting him to talk about it with out asking any direct questions. There is an art to getting info out of your kids and if it isn't really important to them, you are not going to get it at all.

Last night Kirsten and I were helping him get his backpack already to go back to school, now that spring break is over. Anyway, I go through some papers and find several things that he was supposed to give us but didn't. For instance, last night we learned that he needs 1/2 yard of material for a home economics class, by today. The paper had been stuffed down in his backpack for about three weeks. I guess I need to snoop through his stuff a little bit more.

Of course, he made sure to give us the note about his upcoming sex ed class on the day he got it. I guess we know where his priorities lie. Should I be worried?

Sleeping in on weekends ... NOT

Why is it that our two girls don't ever sleep in on weekends. Our schedule is such that we need to leave the house by 7:15 AM on workdays. To achieve this, we need to get up at 5:30 and 6:00 AM. The girls have to be up by 6:30 AM so that we can get them fed and ready for the day.

So why is it that we have to go wake them up so many times during the week, but that they get up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM on weekends. Shoot, if we could sleep until 6:30 AM (like they day so many times during the week), we would be happy, but know, they have to get us up even earlier than in the week.

I realize that there are some people out there (my sister) who would be very pleased to have all children sleep through the night. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for what I have, I just can't figure out how they know when it is a weekend day. :-)

Wow, this blog gets around

I am a bit overwhelmed at the number of people that have been reading this blog. Apparently, everyone at my wife's office really enjoyed the falling story. I suspect that I will not be showing my face around there for a while.