RIP Aloe

Let's bow our heads to remember Aloe, our beloved Betta fish. Aloe was a good fish, a part of our family, who entertained us for so...Ok, screw that. Who am I kidding? That stupid little asshole fish finally went to the great sashimi in the sky.

For those who hadn't read it, or who just don't recall, I blogged about this problematic fish before. He was all well and good for awhile, but then he started floating on his side. Rather than re-hash it here, just look at my blog from January 12, 2008. Better yet, follow this link: http://ctsahd.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html

Well anyway, we had a bunch of Ian's classmates over Friday after school. One of the parents commented that she thought our fish was dead, but I explained the whole story and assured her (and the other parents) that it was typical behavior and he was fine.

Well, let me tell you! We woke up this morning and as we were eating breakfast Ian says "Hey! Where's Aloe? I can't see him in the bowl." I go over and find Aloe completely vertical with his head down in the rocks. I gave a good tap on the side and he flinched...a little. Poor little guy as either that was his last breath or just his fishy muscles finishing up spasming because there wasn't any more movement out of him.

Of course I get the whole barrage of questions/comments: Is Aloe sick? What makes fish feel better? What kind of doctors see fish? Can they take medicine? What will happen if he doesn't go back up to the top of the water so he can eat his food? And on and on and on and on. And on and on and on and on...you get the picture.

We left it at the conclusion that Aloe was very sick and didn't feel like eating and should probably rest for awhile. And off we went with our day.

Well, fast forward to this afternoon. I walked by Aloe's fishbowl and wouldn't you know it, he was in the very same position! Face squished against the rocks of his watery grave. Ian wasn't around, so I didn't say anything...and I just left him there in suspended animation as I wasn't quite sure how to handle it with Ian.

He is beginning to get a grip on the whole 'death' thing, but I wasn't quite sure if we should have a little ceremony for Aloe to give Ian closure, or if he'd want to help me bury him in the yard or give him to Ian and allow him to huck him into the woods...I don't know.

But tonight while Allison was reading a bedtime book to the kids I went into the kitchen to get a drink. I happened to look over and saw that cloudy-eyed fish just floating there in his bowl. I decided enough was enough and made an executive decision: Down the toilet he went. I then re-joined my family in Ian's room and listened to the end of the story and then tucked Ian into bed.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little like the gangsters you see in the movies who do some awful things (kill someone & dispense of their bodies) and then carry on with their families moments later like nothing ever happened. It was actually quite liberating & I think I may have found a new career for me once the kids are in school full-time.

I haven't yet decided what to do with Aloe's bowl. I could leave it out on the counter to let Ian find it and use it as a natural 'intro' into the talk involving Aloe, his demise and the whole life cycle thing. I could also just clean out the fish bowl and put it away and see how long it takes Ian to realize he isn't there. Since he's been thinking about it, it probably won't be long...but knowing his track record with Dupree, we could be talking months here. Anyone wanna place bets?

So adieu Aloe. May you find a happier, less bloated place wherever you end up beyond our home (and septic tank).
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Oh c'mon. You didn't think I'd let this end without pictures, did you? Yeah, that's right: I took pictures! In my defense, it was solely for this blog. I really hope Ian doesn't stumble across this when he's old enough to poke around the internet.


Rigor mortis:




Open Casket Ceremony



Gone, but not forgotten

From the mouths of babes

Said by Leah, as I'm changing her diaper (while she's playing with a pair of kids' binoculars):

"Maybe I can use the binoculars to see my poop! hee hee! That's funny, dad!"

Potty humor rocks!

Ian's Letter to Santa

Dear Santa:

My name is Ian and I have been a good boy this year. I help my sister walk up and down stairs all the time, I help her out of her crib and I play nice with other kids like C.J. and Kevin.

For Christmas I would like:
*Wall-E
*Star Wars movie to keep
*Bat Cave and all the stuff
*Bakugans
*Transformer that Derek has (the big Megatron that he got for staying in bed)
*The big Transformer I saw in Toys R Us - the one with the little transformer.

I like you Santa, you're the best.

Love,

Ian

Today is the day!

Ian's cast comes off this afternoon! That is, assuming the x-ray shows that his leg has healed.

Rest easy that I will be at the ready with my cell phone to capture the look of his scaly, gnarly, stinky, atrophied leg...and rest even more assured that I will most definitely post a picture of it here!

Oh, I forgot to update you that I figured out and remedied the problem with our ceiling fan. I'm not as incompetent as I thought I was!

Home unimprovements

I have had exactly one home improvement project go smoothly, as planned, without any goof ups. And that was the installation of a new toilet in the bathroom of our finished basement. This streak goes back to as far as us owning homes (we bought our first house a little over 8 years ago)...Hell, I'm sure I even goofed up projects in our apartments before then.

Well, the latest project that allowed me to show my incompetence was to troubleshoot why the ceiling fan in our dining room wasn't working. I installed the fixture probably over a year ago and shortly afterwards the fan stopped working (first exhibit of incompetence). The lights in the fixture worked fine, so there really was no rush to get around to fixing it.

Well, since wood-burning season is upon us I decided now was the time to have at it. My reasoning is if you operate the fan in reverse it'll help draw up the warm air from downstairs (where the wood stove insert is) and help heat upstairs. Yesterday was my mother-in-law's day to take the kids from me, so I decided to dedicate part of the day to troubleshooting the problem with the fan.

I disassemble the unit (after shutting off the breaker, of course!) and take a look. Lo and behold I figure out the problem right away. Apparently the wires were hanging down and were rubbing against the spinny thing that turns the paddles (can you tell the level of my knowledge of all things mechanical? That would be 2nd exhibit of incompetence).

The insulation on a couple of the wires were worn down and the wires themselves were exposed. This apparently shorted out the system. I wasn't sure if this was enough to fry the motor, so I decided to cut the affected wires short (I lopped off from the exposed part up to the tip), and re-connect them (using the wire nut, of course).

After I reconnected the wires I stuffed them all up above the bracket into the housing unit in the ceiling and put the housing back on the unit. Before re-attaching the paddles, I turned on the breaker and tested out the spinny thing. Hey, it worked!!! Woo hoo! I was even impressed with myself for thinking to test it before I put it all back together (hey, baby steps).

So I put the whole contraption back together, including the light covers and bulbs. I turn on the fan to admire my work, voila! I then flip the switch for the lights so I can clean up with an abundence of light shining over me. Annnnnnnd whattayaknow, lights aren't working. Damn it! So now I've tried every combonation of light chain pulling and dimmer switch position...those puppies just aren't working.

So let that be a warning to my friends: Never have me take the lead on any of your home improvement projects. I'll gladly help out, I love doing this stuff and learning...I just don't have the mental capacity for installing anything more advanced than an electric can opener. And between you and me, I've fucked up one of those too.

But as far as my current problem/project goes, if it didn't bug me so much to eat in the dark, I'd wait another year or so to get back around to it....but it does, so I won't. So fret not Allison, we'll have light in the dining room soon enough. Maybe next week. But until then, at least we'll be warm while eating in darkness.

Soggy Homes & Broken Bones

Imagine the suckiest weekend you've ever had. Got it? Yeah, this last weekend ranks up there with yours. In fact, if we had a weekend 'suck-off' I'm not sure who would win. Wait. That just sounds so wrong and not the way I meant it to. I think it's best if we just move on.....

So Friday evening after dinner we were upstairs playing with the kids and for some reason I can't recall I went down to the basement (which is finished) and heard a dripping sound. I opened up the door that separates the boiler room from the rest of the finished basement and lo and behold there is standing water covering the floor. I just stood there for a second, mumbled an obscenity, shut the door and went upstairs as I just had no desire to deal with it at that exact moment.

Obviously I wasn't going to put it off, but the kids' bedtime was quickly approaching and it would be smarter to take care of it after they were asleep than to deal with the two rugrats wanting to help and splash the water all over our 8 week old rug (which by the way was already wet the first 12" past the door and wall).

We cleared out the room, sucked up the water with the wet/dry vac and called our oil company. The service guy was there in less than 45min and showed me the problem. He said he really couldn't do anything to fix it, as it could very well just make the problem worse. Allison and I had a little pow-wow and decided that we should just shut down the boiler and drain it out.

Well, that's not entirely true. There was no little pow-wow. As the guy was showing me what valves to turn, buttons to push and gauge limits to keep an eye on in case the drip worsened, Allison yelled from across the room to just shut it down and drain it out. Yep, she made the executive decision all by her lonesome. She knows better than to trust me to keep a watchful eye on valves, gauges and buttons! Our (Allison's) rationale was that since the weather was forcasted to be really warm, we'd be able to get by without heat or hot water so we (she) decided to just quit while we were ahead and turn it off.

So the service guy did that and all was well & good. So it was our intention to stay in the house until a new boiler was put in, but as you'll learn in the next part, that was not to be the case. But as far as the rest of the story that pertains to the boiler goes: I met the owner of the company at our house late Monday morning and he gave us an estimate to put in a new one, which they did on Tuesday.

We didn't want to go top of the line as we're intending to sell the house, but we didn't want to get something inappropriate for the house in case we're here longer than anticipated. Besides, it just wouldn't be right. So we are the proud owners of a 3 section cast-iron tankless boiler with an efficiency rating of 86.2%. Booyah.

We were considering a trip back to Disney either the end of November or beginning of December but dropping close to five large on this thing was the nail in that coffin. Good thing we didn't tell the kids our plans. Imagine their disappointment if we had told them, and then trying to get away with taking souvenier photos of them on top of the boiler and pretending it's the Dumbo ride. I think even Leah is old enough to know she was getting conned.

Probably the best part of this is that so far it doesn't look like we'll have to replace the rug in the basement. Only time will tell, but I think we're in the clear.

So that is Part A of the beginning of that Sucktober weekend.

Part B begins Saturday afternoon at a birthday party for one of Ian's friends. The party started at 1pm and Allison had some errands to run, so I took the kids to the party and she was to meet us there later.

As we pull up Ian spies the bounce house in the back yard. He gets all giddy and wants to unbuckle his seatbelt before we even stop the car. We go into the back yard and he makes a beeline for the bounce house, running by the birthday girl and her mom just kicking his shoes off and leaving a trail of shoes, socks & a sweatshirt.

Ian was in there pretty much the whole first two hours. I got him to come out for about 5 minutes for lunch, but he showed no interest in eating (his M.O. lately). He wanted to do whatever the bigger/older boys were doing and that usually meant jumping around in the bounce house.

Around 3:00 I left to take Leah home for a late, but much needed nap. Well, Allison called me around 4:30 and immediately I could hear Ian screaming. She told me that she said that he got hurt and was going directly to the local H-O-S-P-I-T-A-L, spelling it out so Ian didn't understand her. Yeah, that plan didn't work because he did and it freaked him out even more than he already was. (He said he didn't want to go, and wanted to go directly home, but of course Allison knew that something major was wrong).

I woke Leah up and met them at the hospital. When I got there, they were just wheeling Ian out of the triage room and he wasn't crying at the time but it looked like he had been....alot. And he began crying as soon as he saw me and asked for hugs.

We all went to the waiting room to wait to be called for x-rays and Ian zoned out in front of the TV before finally falling asleep. Here he is, after his body just shut down on him. Poor little guy, look how puffy his eyes are!:




After a little while Ian woke up and we were finally called in for x-rays. I recognized some of the ER nurses from bringing in patients on the ambulance so a few of them went out of their way to help out in the x ray room maneuvering Ian into position and helping to try to keep him as calm as possible. He still was crying, but it was more out of nervousness of being hurt further rather than pain from the movements. Every time he started crying I asked if it was because he was hurt or because he was scared, and more often than not he was scared.

At some point it was like a switch was flipped. He calmed down completely and got his 'personality' back. We moved him onto the stretcher, after the x-ray techs saw the break in Ian's bone, thinking it would be more comfortable than the wheelchair. Ian didn't object, because he looked mighty comfy once he finally layed down.

He was wheeled into a room in the ER and we began our wait for the orthopedist, who was on-call but not in the hospital. Allison's sister, Melissa, came and got Leah and brought her back to their parent's house which was nice. Now we could focus on Ian and not deal with Leah's antics. Yes, Leah does have antics.

After awhile Ian was able to really calm down and settle in and eventually he fell asleep. When the orthopedist (a PA in this case) finally came in, we tried to wake Ian up, but no dice. He told us that Ian fractured his tibia high up, right below the head of the bone. He said it didn't affect the growth plate (which is great, obviously), and that he'll be in a cast for 6-8 weeks (which is not so great, obviously).

Since the ER was so busy, and Ian was sacked out cold, the PA asked for Allison and my help in wrapping up Ian in a full leg cast. Oh, good job, Honey! No one can hold toes like you! The PA said that it was the first time a patient had been asleep the entire time. He has had people fall asleep, but not be asleep when he got there and asleep when he left. Yeah, waking up at 5am and being in a bounce house for several hours and then crying for another hour plus will do that to ya.

Here is Ian after his cast hardened, right before we left the hospital.


So we left the hospital and went right to Allison's parents house and stayed there the night. Since we had no heat or hot water, and they have a big house AND heat & hot water we decided to stay there for awhile.

We were told to keep Ian off his feet (duh!), and just let him relax on the sofa. Uh, have you MET Ian? If there is one thing Ian doesn't do is relax. As a matter of fact, I've seen Ian TRY to relax and it is painful watching him because he looks so uncomfortable. So anyway over the next few days he got lots of TV time, which he loved.

On Tuesday we went to the pediatric hospital and had the experts take a look at his leg. The prognosis is that he'll be in his cast for 4 weeks (not the 6-8 as previously reported) and at which point more xrays will be taken to see how the bone has healed. The next course of action obviously depends on that.

I've been trying to keep Ian busy with crafts and stuff, but he hates that shit. We had fun putting together a little model Star Wars spaceship and a little birdhouse but you can tell he is just barely tolerating it. He's a tough kid, but I think he's going to die of boredom! We've been holding off on getting him any electronic gaming thing (like a gameboy), as we feel once he has that he won't want to do anything else...but I think he'll have one before the cast comes off. Although I still want to hold out for as long as possible.

As far as transportation goes, I've been lugging him around in our wagon, as my only other option has been to carry him. That seems to work, but it gets a little hectic while in parking lots and such where I also have to worry about Leah (she won't fit in the wagon with his club leg) especially if I need to carry any kind of bags or something.

The doctor said he could try to get around on his own, he just couldn't run or climb anything. Well, the way his leg is positioned, he definitely isn't doing any running. He hadn't wanted to attempt any movement on his own (and was content with me carrying him everywhere) until yesterday. He hobbled around a little (with assistance) and this morning he got out of bed, butt-scooted down the hallway and made it all the way downstairs without waking anyone up. So I'm glad to see he is figuring out alternate modes of transportation.

He is back at school and while he's bummed about not being able to run around with his classmates, he likes the attention that the cast brings. On Wednesday afterschool he just sat in his wagon while a few of his classmates had at his cast with some permanent markers:





So we're getting along okay, and hopefully these next 3.5 or so weeks pass by rather quickly. I wanted to go out the past two days, but Ian has been complaining of pain in his leg (which he hadn't done before yesterday) so we've been pretty much stuck in the house.

I called the doctor yesterday and they said that as long as his prescribed pain meds were helping to alleviate the pain then it isn't a problem. We're not giving him the medicine (Tylenol w/Codeine) unless he's in pain or at night, to help ensure a good night's rest.

Well, I think that about sums up the weekend. Sorry if this has been so disjointed. I've been working on it over a few nights so I couldn't get into my 'groove'. There is other stuff to tell, but it's getting late and I'm beat.

Cheers.

Karma gonna git cha!!

I was talking to a neighbor of ours yesterday and SHE was talking to a neighbor of hers earlier in the day and said that SHE heard something horrible happened on our block. Yeah, I was all ears too!

She said that someone on the adjoining street tied up her little dog to the front stoop and took out her trash the last trash day. She brought her trash to the curb, turned around and saw a coyote attack her dog, going right for the throat. The coyote grabbed the pipsqueak and headed off into the woods with it.

Oh man, I am giddy with joy here!! If you don't know why, see my blog from June 13, 2007. I was about to recap it, but I figured I'd let those who don't know 'the backstory' do a little leg work. I don't know for sure if it's one of HER dogs, but I'm praying like mad that it is. How great would that be if that stupid fuck knuckle saw her dog get ripped apart by a coyote??? That would be some serious Karma in action. I need to dig a little into this and get confirmation, but know that I'll be going to bed a little happier tonight just thinking that she'll play that sight over and over in her mind for the rest of her miserable life.

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BTW, I was just going to blog about the status update of the whole house situation, but it was getting very lengthy and boring, so I stopped. Hopefully Allison will make it sound more interesting in her blog (gee, no pressure, huh Allison?). The short, short version is: we put an offer on a house, but we got bumped. Go ahead Babs, fill in the gaps.

11 Weeks

That's how long it took Ian to realize that Dupree isn't around.

He finally asked about her this morning, and I kind of deflected it because he had school in a little bit so I didn't want to get into the whole thing. I just said "I don't know, I haven't seen her" and then brought up something else.

Ian asked Allison where Dupree was, then Allison gave me the look as in "well, he finally asked" and then went into how she ran away. You could see Ian's eyes begin to redden and well up and his lip started quivering. He was really upset about it, which was sad to see of course.

He was sad because Dupree was all alone, or dead. He was sad because she wants to be out in the woods (either alone or with other cats) rather than in the house with us. And he was sad because she may be with another family, when she belongs to us.

He really misses her and he desperately wants me to take him in the woods behind our house to look for her. Does he want to do it conventionally like any normal 4 year old? Oh no.

He doesn't want to go back there shouting her name and looking for her. He wants us to go back there, find her tracks and follow them to where she is. Oh dude, how the hell am I gonna pull this off? Hopefully we'll come quickly upon a pile of furry coyote shit and have closure right then and there.

So anyway Ian said on the way to school that he was going to tell his friends and his teachers all about it. I already pictured picking him up after school and seeing 12 4yr olds crying over an elderly cat with a poor sense of direction. I was able to forewarn Ian's teacher and she appreciated it since she is often told stories by the kids and she doesn't have the foggiest as to what they're talking about.

When I went to pick Ian up, he was in a great mood which was a good sign. There was also no evidence of other kids crying or any candlelight vigils that might have taken place in the past 2.5hrs.

One funny thing that I noticed was that apparently they have a 'class news' segment in school. Every kid has an opportunity to tell what's going on with them and the teacher writes it down on a big notepad for the class. (Why they do that, I don't know since the kids can't read...but whatever). But I noticed that for Ian it said

Ian: Ian's cat, Dupree ran away into the woods. Ian can also burp his ABC's.

Well okay, then.

RIP Uncle Walt

RIP Uncle Walt, the man who taught me to play pool, darts and who was instrumental in me coming to terms with my mom's death when she passed away when I was 17.

A Letter to my Wife

Happy Anniversary, Dear!

It has been 8 wonderful years being married to you. Sure we've had our ups and downs, but our love has produced 2 wonderful kids, which we cherish every day. I love you with all my heart and am looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you.

So what do you say we put the aforementioned children to bed early and get freaky tonight?

PENIS POWER!

I had a really cool father/son adventure on Tuesday.

We went to Allison's uncle's lake house for dinner. It was thunder & lightning when we got there but then it cleared up, so Ian and Leah got their bathing suits on and splashed around in the water for a little bit. Then Ian wanted to "really" go swimming, so I got my bathing suit on, we strapped a life vest on Ian and the two of us swam out to an island about a quarter mile out.

He was so excited to be swimming in the lake! He just absolutely loved the idea that we were swimming somewhere other than a pool and that we were not near the edge of the lake. He just kept talking the whole way out there. He was talking about everything and everything. That's how you know he's really excited. Once we got to the island, we just sat on the rocks for a bit and talked about what we had just done.

About a minute after we got there, everyone on the deck at the house yelled in unison "Good job, Ian!". He LOVED it. I mean he was in all his glory. From that point onward he just kept talking about everyone yelling about him. We explored the island for a few minutes until I saw there were broken beer bottles out in the major area of the island. Since we didn't have water shoes, I steered him back to the edge where we chilled for a bit more and then started the swim back to the house.

He was just as chatty on the way back as he was on the way out. You could tell he was getting tired though. He was swimming at a MUCH slower rate and I had to 'pull' him along several times. We got back to the house, dried off and ate dinner. He fell asleep not 3 minutes after leaving the house, because he was so wiped out!

It really was one of the best father/son adventures we've had, in a LONG time...maybe ever. I know some pics were taken, so I can't wait to see them. But until those surface, here is a zoomed in picture of the island I took from my cell phone. The view from the deck is much nicer, but I wanted to get the rocks up which we scrambled (in the middle):

You would think that the title of the blog would relate to the above story, how the father and son had a great adventure and that they were unstoppable: "GO PENIS POWER!" Believe it or not, that is not the case. There is a story behind that emphatic title.

On Sunday we went over to Allison's parents for dinner, as we do most Sundays. Well, we were hanging around the kitchen table when Ian and Leah decided to run amok outside on the back deck. Before we knew it, Ian had stripped off all his clothes and was pretending to be a super hero.

The funniest part was him standing proudly, stark naked, with hands on hips shouting at the top of his lungs "PENIS POWER!" and then running full tilt across the deck.

I take that back. The funniest part was Leah mimicing him, yelling PENIS POWER and then HER running full tilt across the deck in all her glory.

And, no, you will not see any pictures of that!

Garage Door:1 Mouse: 0

Threw up in my mouth a little...okay, a LOT.

Yesterday we took the kids on an impromptu trip to Lake Compounce, which is an area amusement park/water park. My initial reaction when Allison suggested going there was that she was nucking futz, seeing how it was a saturday in the middle of summer.

I have grown to be, shall we say 'not fond', of large crowds. Not that I'm nervous around them or get claustrophobic, it's just that I find that when large masses of people (and in yesterday's case, masses of large people...VERY large people) are in one place, I get really annoyed.

I have noticed that has really only been since we have had kids. One reason is that I'm deathly afraid of losing one of the kids in a large crowd like that. Both times that we've been to this amusement park I have seen one kid hysterical because he lost his parents...and then you see the frantic parent looking for their kid. Man, that scares me.

The other reason I am not a fan of crowds is due to the logistics of maneuvering through the throngs of people, especially when strollers are involved. It bugs the shit out of me when I'm trying to get somewhere and you have to dodge around these assholes who will walk as slow as possible and then STOP and just stand there.

Or the people will slightly change directions, then change their mind and then cut back in front of you, and then maybe go another way and then right back in front of you. And then what do they do? STOP and just stand there.

My very favorite is when a group of people congregate in the most asinine/inconvenient places, like right in the middle of the pathway of where ever you may be. For instance, yesterday we forgot swim diapers for Leah so we went into a little store and bought one. People were standing there talking right in the main aisleway of the store right at the entrance, therefore blocking access to the cashier and the store itself and not to mention blocking the exit.

Granted, it was a small store, but these people weren't buying anything or shopping. They were standing there just gabbing. People also have a habit of doing that right in the main thoroughfare of the park...just standing there in the middle of the walkway either looking at a map or just talking. DUDE, MOVE OVER AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!

I'm sure these are very nice people outside of these situations...but when it comes to times like these, they are all assholes, the whole lot of 'em. Consider this a PSA: Please don't be that group! Please be aware of your surroundings and be courteous of others trying to get by.

Okay, how the hell did I get off on that tangent? Anyway, so we decided to go to Lake Compounce as it would be fun even with the major crowds..and we were right. We started off in the section with the kiddie rides. It seems that Ian has outgrown a few of them, as he looked bored on a couple of them, but Leah was in her glory! But don't feel bad for Ian, as there were plenty more on which he had an absolute blast! There were a few rides that Ian wanted to go on by himself, but there were also some he wanted us to go with him, like the kid-friendly 'Free Fall' and a scaled down roller coaster.

After we went on some rides we stopped for a snack and then made our way to the water park. This is where we encountered the most crowds, and where it became the most frustrating, but what can you do? It was a hot weekend day in the middle of the Summer.

First we went into a shallow pool for the smaller kids where they had little slides, swings and places to just poke around. Leah was getting kind of cranky at that point and she wasn't having fun so Allison took her to the beach, which was right next to the water park. She seemed to be content playing in the sand there. After a little bit Ian wanted to go to the beach and swim in the lake, so we went and did that. Ian and I went into the water and we practiced him swimming a little bit, but then he had fun playing a new game: We would be in the water up to his chest, and then he would want me to stay there while he made his way up to the shoreline to say hi to Allison and Leah and then would make his way back out to me.

I was a little hesitant at first, but it wasn't all that far and I knew I'd be able to get to him in a matter of seconds if he went under, so I let him do this game. Apparently this was a fun game as he kept doing this over and over.

After a while of doing this, Leah was getting towards the end of her rope and Ian was starting to get cold. So we were able to convince Ian to go down a big water slide one time before we left. There was a height restriction of 54" to ride it, so I couldn't go with him, but I waited in line with him. There was an enclosed tower with concrete steps to get up to the top, which had a bizarre odor within it. I knew I knew that smell, but I just couldn't place it. So we waited in line for about 10 minutes. We were close to the top, about 5 kids from going on the slide when IT happened. What is 'IT', you ask? Oh let me tell you.

In front of us in line was this boy, probably 7 or 8. He was all by himself and wasn't talking to anyone, which is fine. Like I said, we were just about at the top, so we had invested some time waiting in line, and this was the last thing we were doing before leaving. So the boy in front of us had his arms stretched out and was holding onto both railings on either side of him. I saw him glance to the left of him, then to the right and then there 'IT' was: A steady stream of pee going down his legs and bathing suit and splashing on the steps and then running down them.

I have definitely gotten better at not using curse words around the kids. I learned my lesson last year with Ian and the F bomb. What did I say when I saw all this pee? "Uhhhhhh!" What did I want to say? "HOLY FUCKING SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? DO THEY MAKE SWIM DIAPERS FOR 8 YEAR OLDS??? AAAGGGGGHHH!"

I looked up at the kid and he just stared straight ahead not saying a peep acting like nothing happened. Now I can't really blame him for that, as that's what I do when I release a floating air biscuit in public. But there is a difference between offensive air and body fluid. Offensive air is rude, releasing body fluid is just plain fucked up, not to mention unsanitary.

It was at this point that I finally realized what that smell eminating from the stairwell was: A port-o-john. I looked down and ALL the steps were wet...like, really wet. Then it dawned on me that this kid was NOT the first one to do this on this day. It was just too wet in there to be just water dripping from the pool. I swear to God I nearly gagged. No joke, for HOURS afterwards, my stomach was just turning.

We were SO close to the top, like I said, just a few riders...so I immediately put Ian to the side of the step, told him ONLY to climb on the side and then would meet him at the bottom. It's not that I was abandoning him, but it was as far as I could go, as only riders were allowed beyond that point. I figured what the hell, apparently we had been standing in a cesspool for 10+ minutes, why worry Ian about it or include him in my gut-wrenching discovery. S0 I left him to go meet him at the bottom of the slide, as he was concerned if anyone would be there to help him get off the slide and into the water.

I ran down the stairs, head a spinning just looking at everyone standing on the piss-soaked steps totally unaware of the vomit-inducing discovery I had just made. It was so fucking nasty. I swear I'm almost gagging right now just thinking about that.

You know whats the worst part about it? That poor boy was dehydrated. It looked like he was pissing orange juice. His parents should be disciplined for a) not making sure he drank enough during the day and b) for not teaching him that it's NOT OKAY TO PISS ON THE PEOPLE BEHIND YOU IN LINE!

Yuck. It'll take me awhile to come to grips with that.

Anyway, here are the pictures of the good times we had, pre piss-exposure:

And this is how my tummy feels just thinking about how I was standing barefoot in a shitload of other peoples urine outputs:

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes.....

I'm in the process of funktifying my little corner of the web.

I finally figured out how to add links (apparently it's all in the template you choose, imagine that), and will work on jazzing it up a bit.

I can't tell who reads my site (besides those who comment), so if you'd like me to link to your site, please let me know and I'll be happy to do so. As long as I know you or would be interested in knowing you...all spammers will be ridiculed.

I already added some links that I could think of from the (balding) top of my head. If I forgot you, please forgive me. I've only had one cup of coffee so far. Oh, and Meri, I didn't forget you, I just don't have permission to view your page!

Now that I have a new phone that takes decent pictures, I'll be more vigilant on updating this and our goings on. Besides, it seems we'll be busy in the next few months, so I should have some stuff to report.

Now excuse me while I go and remedy that whole only one cup of coffee thing....

Results from Physical

I'm required to do a physical every year for the Fire Department, but it's more of a hearing test, TB test (for the volunteer EMT gig) and turn-your-head-and-cough type of physical.

I found out this winter that my PCP had moved away several months prior, so I figured that wasn't a good sign if I didn't even know about it. So I scheduled a physical (there was a 6 month wait list!) and finally had it last week.

I wanted a general check-up, but had a few issues that I wanted to bring up to him as well:

*I have a really gnarly, extremely pronounced vericose vein on my left leg. It looks like a major scar or that there is a huge rope embedded right under my skin. I brought it up to my PCP a few years ago, and he said as long as it doesn't hurt, don't worry about it. Well, the past year or so it's been getting uncomfortable if I'm standing...not major pain, but uncomfortable pressure in my leg. So it's time to get that checked out again.

*There is a mole in the middle of my back that Allison has noticed and doesn't really like the look of.

*Diabetes is rampant in my family and wanted to get that re-checked again.

*During my last physical for the Fire Department I came back borderline positive for Tuberculosis. Not that I have it, but that I may be a carrier for it. The nurses were very hesitant to declare me positive because that's something that follows you forever. They told me that I'm probably negative,not to worry about it, but get it rechecked in about 6 months.

*I couldn't remember the last Tetnus shot I got...I was reminded of this when I stepped on a piece of wood with a rusty nail in it. Fortunately I missed the nail, but it still triggered my fear.

SOOOOO, I went to the doc, he looked at my leg, my mole and my nuts. Fortuantely for me, I was able to avoid "Dr. Jellyfinger". I saw the tube of K-Y on the counter before he came in and started freaking out. I really, really, really don't want a man's finger up my ass. (Allison tells me I'm lucky I'm not a woman. That's fine. You keep all your interior plumbing and velvety soft hoo-hah, and I'll keep my anus a finger-free zone!)

Here's the rundown of the results:

Gnarly vein: was given 4 names of local vascular sugeons. I need to make an appointment to see one.

Mole on back: looks harmless, but he'll make a note to keep an eye on it.

Pee in cup: everything they test with that came back a-ok.

Nut fondling: no hernia

Bloodwork: Everything is in normal parameters...that means blood sugar (no diabetes), cholesterol (LDL & HDL), Triglycerides, no anemia, and all that other good stuff.

Also my thyroid measurement was in normal perameters (my doctor wanted it checked since my mom had Thyroid Cancer, and thyroid problems are hereditary).

Tetnus shot: Done, even still a bit sore 5 days later.

TB Test: NEGATIVE! Didn't get nearly the same reaction as I did last time. It wasn't even close to being borderline positive. I asked the nurse about this and she just said that people react differently to the test, and that i probably just had a more severe reaction last time.

So all in all, I'm pretty much as healthy as a toddler chasin', diaper changin' horse can be!

It's unofficially official

I really don't want to dwell on it, but today I have officially accepted that Dupree is gone.

I got some blood drawn today for tests for a routine physical, and the lab tech was a woman whom I know from the Fire Department. She lives almost directly behind us on the other side of the woods.

I asked her if she happen to have seen a black and grey striped cat in the last few weeks as ours had run away, and I was betting that she was romping around in those woods and maybe had made her way down there.

She said she hadn't seen a cat, but DID see a coyote yesterday back in the woods. There is no way Dupree is gonna take on one of those, and win. Besides, it's been nearly 3 weeks.

So, until she surprises me by sitting on our doorstep waiting to be let in, I'm considering her gone for good.

Later, kitty.

Oh, and one more thing. Bat at Marvin's balls for me, will ya?

Newsflash! This just in!

Can you all see me doing my happy dance?

The reason behind my happiness is that we found out this weekend that the rottweiler across the street who bit Ian in May was put to sleep recently! Apparently he was riddled with cancer.

YIPPEE!

Don't get me wrong, I'm an animal lover, and don't blame the dog for biting Ian, but I couldn't be any happier that this dog is off the face of the earth. He was just a rotten mo' fo' from the time we met him 6 years ago.

Apparently Ian isn't sad either. I asked him today where Marvin is, and he smiled and said "in Heaven." I asked him if he was sad that Marvin was there. His response: "No! He was a mean dog."

I do explain to Ian that he wasn't mean, he just didn't like people he didn't know, and was protective of his family.

Either way, he's out of our lives. Good riddance, I say.

Rot away, canine corpse.

An oldie but a goodie - the beginnings of my writing.

I was packing up some more stuff today and came across a letter I wrote in October 2000. I quickly recognized the letter, but had completely forgotten about it until I saw it today.

I consider it to be probably one of my finest pieces of letter writing, besides the letter I sent to an ex-girlfriend who had cheated on me describing that if she continued her bed-hopping ways, her privates would look like a greasy pizza with all the toppings. I think this one is the best because of what I said, how I said it, as well as the outcome that it produced. The only unfortunate thing about it, is the reason behind me writing it.

I'm not going to go into great detail as I'm going to do enough typing re-writing the 2.5 pages of excellence, but here is a synopsis: The hotel where we booked our rehersal dinner & lodging for the guests of our wedding was a wreck. The management and some employees there didn't know their asses from their elbows, and it showed.

You know how I used to change names of places to protect them? Meh, not this time. I'll delete the last names of the people involved, but that's about it. Here goes:

October 10, 2000
Radisson Hotels
Attn: Customer Service Department
blah blah blah for address

Re: Springfield/Enfield Radisson Hotel

To whom it may concern:

It is my belief that your department should know what happened at your hotel thie weekend of September 2, 2000, which was the weekend of my wedding. Previously, my fiance and I decided that your hotel, which at the time was in the process of renovation, would be a wonderful place for our guests to stay.

Little did I know that what was supposed to be one of the best weekends of my life was dashed by the shortcomings of the staff employed at the Radisson in Enfield, CT.

I had previously booked two rooms on my credit card. One room, reserved under [insert Toddler Chasin' Maniac's dad's name], my father, was for Friday and Saturday nights. The other room, which was reserved under my name, was for Saturday and Sunday nights. I had a confirmation number for each of those rooms.

About a month before the wedding, I received a list of all booked rooms. I quickly noticed that the room booked under my name had been transferred to one of our wedding guests. This was my room because it had the same confirmation number I was originally given.

Phyllis, who was extremely helpful, confirmed that the room had inexplicably transferred into this guest's name. Phyllis asked for my credit card number and told me that she would make sure I had a room for Saturday and Sunday nights.

Saturday, September 2, 2ooo, my new bride and I went to the lobby to check into our room. We chitchatted with the front office manager (A.J. [Goofyhead]); we were given our room key cards and headed off to Room 601 expecting to get a good rest after a long day. Instead, we were met by key cards that did not work as well as occupants in our reserved room.

Mr. [Goofyhead] explained to us that apparently a hotel employee/desk clerk gave away our room without entering it into the computer system and that there were no other rooms available that night. Mr. [Goofyhead] was extremely apologetic and offered to put us up for the night at a hotel near Bradley Airport, which is over thirty minutes away. At this point, it was 2:30am and we were exhausted, so we were not going to drive to another hotel.

My brother offered us his room and told us that he and his fiance would stay with someone else. A half-hour later, my wife of twelve hours cried herself to sleep. Apparently, this was not what she had in mind for our wedding night.

The next morning we checked out trying to put the incident behind us. Mr. [Goofyhead] was still behind the front desk and he instructed the clerk who was checking us out to deduct one night from our hotel bill. My wife signed the bill and we walked out. After leaving, we noticed that the clerk only deducted $50 from the bill, rather than the full amount as directed by Mr. [Goofyhead].

While checking out, Mr. [Goofyhead] gave us his business card and told us that any weekend we wanted to come back he would pay for our room. As nice as that sounds on the surface, I do not understand why he would expect us to return to that establishment after having our room on our wedding night taken away from us. This offer is even less appealing knowing that my wife's parents live fifteen minutes away. If we were to return to the area for an overnight stay, we would stay there.

We provided that hotel with 64 occupied rooms that weekend, which equals to one-third of the capacity. We held our rehersal dinner on the hotel premises and our guests packed the hotel bar both Friday and Saturday nights until closing and drank its supply of beer out of stock. Many of our guests also ate meals in the hotel restaurant and ordered room service.

In short, our group spent a lot of money at this hotel and I feel that my wife and I deserve more compensation than free lodging for a weekend in Enfield. Please understand that I am aware of my brother's fiance, [Pensyltucky Erin], had a conference call with Mr. [Goofyhead] and a representative from Radisson sometime last month.

It is my understanding that [Pensyltucky Erin] agreed that a free weekend at any Radisson in the country and a gift certificate towards dinner would be adequate compensation. Although it is a nice gesture, it is not enough to keep my wife and I from telling all the business travelers we know about how a Radisson Hotel gave away our room on our wedding night.

For your information, these are not the only complaints by guests of the Enfield Radisson for that weekend. Many of our guests were met by other inadequacies of the hotel employees. I am sure you have received complaints about them already, if not you will.

I do however want to comliment Phyllis, Susan [Hoffenfleishenflowergerger] and their staff on the work and preperation for our rehersal dinner held in the Springfield/Longmeadow Room on Friday, September 1, 2000. They went to great lengths in helping us choose menu items, hammer out details, and even help solve a problem of ours not hotel related. This is especially true for Phyllis, who sincerely is a customer service oriented employee.

The purpose of this letter is to shed light on how grossly mismanaged your hotel was on this particular weekend. I sincerely hope this was an isolated incident with a known cause, and not the normal operating procedure for all hotels in the Radisson chain. I trust actions will be taken to ensure that this does not happen to future guests, especially newlyweds looking to spend their most anticipated night together in your establishment.

I have moved since the comment form was sent to me, my new address is listed below. I will refrain from filling out the comment form until I receive any compensation or acknowledgement of this letter in writing.

Sincerely,

Mr. & Mrs Toddler Chasin', Diaper Changin' Maniac.


Of course, the question begs to be asked is: What was the outcome??

A few weeks after the letter was sent, we received (via registered mail) 5 free nights to any Radisson anywhere in North America. We have since used them all, mostly for weddings where we were going to stay overnight.

So there you have it, what I consider one of my best examples of letter writing.

Of course that doesn't count my blogs. Profanity peppered throughout stories trumps demanding free overnight stays anytime.

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Speaking of profanity peppered throughout blogs, I was mowing my lawn today and noticed some dog shit. Immediately I could feel my blood boil, but quickly calmed down when I realized that it was on my neighbor's property. Not HERS, but the neighbor on the other side of us. It was really CLOSE to ours, but not on ours. It still irks me that the neighbor bitch still lets her dogs do that, but it wasn't my problem, so I let it go.

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In other news, unfortunatly there is still no definitive ending to the mysteriously vanishing Dupree. It's been two weeks since we've noticed that she was gone, so it could be up to 16 days since she actually disappeared out of thin air.

At first I was thinking that any moment now she'd saunter up out of the woods and I would have been worrying for nothing. But obviously with each passing day, it's not very likely that is going to happen.

I feel a little bad about not pursuing her whereabouts, like checking the local animal control officer for strays or roadkill on streets surrounding the forest. I haven't even been driving the neighborhood looking for her.

Unfortunately I really don't have too much awake time without the kids around. Besides, there is a shitload of woods behind us. I could go out and check there, but what are the chances of me coming across her (or her remains) in 200 acres of forest? Pretty much the only thing I've been doing is keeping an eye out for her while playing outside with the kids or looking into the forest while out on our deck.

The craziest thing is that Ian still hasn't said anything. I've been thinking about what to say when he DOES ask where Dupree is, and I've come to the decision to just say "I don't know where she is, bud. I haven't seen her." and just leave it at that.

I'm actually nervous about that whole conversation because I fucked up the death talk royally...and that was with a neighborhood dog whose name that he didn't even know. Nevermind a family pet that has been in the family longer than Ian has. Come to think of it, I could just say that his tormenting her is what led her to run away....

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Speaking of Ian tormenting things, we found out for SURE this past weekend that Ian has a heart afterall. He was watching 'Hook' with Allison on Sunday (a movie that I had never seen before), when he saw the part where Peter Pan as a baby is left on the ground in the middle of a rainstorm, in the middle of the night.

All of a sudden Ian started asking about why the baby was there and what was happening, and then Tinkerbell comes over and holds a leaf over Peter Pans head to shield him from the rain. Ian just opened the floodgates and began to cry uncontrollably.

He wasn't sad that we would do that to him or Leah, but he was sad that ANYONE would do that to a baby. It was really sweet, but it was painful to watch because he cried at my in-laws house, the whole way home and then while lying in bed going to sleep. He was also SUPER exhausted, but he was still talking about it the next day.

Poor little guy, at 4 years old worrying about why people would abandon a baby.

So when you see him, for God's sake, do NOT bring up the story of Peter Pan!

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In happier news, Ian is still going to camp 3 mornings a week and is absolutely loving it. We even got a babysitter out of the deal. One of the counselors that supervises Ian asked me a few weeks ago if we need a babysitter.

She said that Ian is her favorite and that she tells her mom about Ian all the time. She also loves interacting with Leah. Everytime I drop Ian off or pick him up, Leah goes right for her and she'll scoop her up and play with her for a few minutes. She has been doing this since one of the first days of camp, so I don't think it's a ploy for the counselor to get a babysitting gig.

We're going to try her out later this week, to see how it goes. She's going to come over to the house and play with the kids while I do some more prep work around the house, because we're getting down to crunch-time.

Our house goes on the market mid-August and there's a LOT of stuff left to do. I'm a little bit worried, but we still have a lot of time, so as long as we don't squander a whole lot of it I think we'll be okay.

Besides, we've already done a lot of what we need to do, so we can definitely see the improvements/changes taking place.

Okay, that's about it...like it's not long enough!

Other things have been going on, but my eyes are crossing from spending too much time in front of the computer.

Cheers, have fun, and if you see Dupree, tell her to get her ass home. Better yet, put down a can of tuna and you can keep her as your own.

9 lives up?

fuckin' cats. When we first moved here our neighbor said she lost 4 or 5 out in the 200+ acres of state forest behind us.

Well, we have two of our own (both indoor cats, about 11 years old)...and for the last several years they have been making holes in the screen doors/windows in order to try to get out of the house. We're tired of getting new screen doors or patching them...I resorted to using duct tape, but the cats just claw that out of the way and use the hole as a 'doggy' door. well, kitty door i guess.

Anyway, we have a new screen door on order, but we're not going to put it on until the day our house goes on the market, the middle of next month. So we've been leaving it as is, and keep the slider open to allow for air exchange during the day, but when it gets buggy in the evening we shut the door.

Anyway, we realized today that we haven't seen one of the cats in a few days. Nice power of observation on our part...now I know where Ian gets it.

It's probably too soon to write her off, as she's escaped for 4 or so days while we were away on vacation before coming back. But I think some coyotes, foxes, fisher cats, or some mean muthafuckin' squirrels (all of which we have here) got to her.

I feel a little bad, as she's been our kitty since she was 6 months old, but she's been dying to get OUT of the house, it's only fitting if she dies outSIDE of the house. Besides, it's one less thing we have to worry about packing up and moving (did I just say that?)

Dupree, we'll leave the light on for you.

A present

Happy birthday to me.

Ian just left me a heaping, steaming pile of shit on the back deck. I couldn't get to it quick enough before the flys were a buzzin'. It even made me gag a little.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that my birthday was yesterday. It's the thought that counts though.

Rule No. 1482

Hey look at this. I don't blog for 6 weeks, and then it's twice in two days!

I learned today that apparently it's not common sense, and you have to explicitly tell a preschooler NOT to wipe his face against a wall rather than seeking out a tissue.

Hell, even using his sleeve would be more acceptable than walking across the room, pressing his face against the wall and then slowly dropping to his knees.

WTF?

Did you miss me?

Hey there ladies and gents! Long time, no blog! I just checked and see that the last time I wrote was Easter. Hmmmm, I can't say that things have been slow here, as they haven't: We've had a smattering of trips, activities, haps, mishaps and everything in between. I'll try to re-cap the best I can.

Let's see, after Easter we went on a trip to Orlando, but Allison wrote about that so I won't bore you with repetition. If you want to read about it, you can check out her blog over at http://dupreesgal.blogspot.com/ She didn't put any pictures up there, so here are a few of our favorites:

The girls on the monorail, excited for the day ahead:

The boys on the monorail, excited for round 2 (this was taken on our way back into the park after a nap and some downtime) :

The family with a famous rat:

The kids taking on Zurg from behind bars:

Leah, recovering from her drawn out battle with Zurg:

Ian having a blast on the teacups:

The girls relaxing on the Tomorrowland Transit Tram thingy:

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After our trip to Orlando we decided enough was enough with Ian and the whole non-potty training thing. I told Ian to say goodbye to his pull-ups because he was going to wear underwear from here on out. He was pretty excited.......until he heard that there were concequences for accidents.

Yeah, that's right. There are concequences for accidents now. I decided it's time to pull out all the stops as he's almost Four and there is nothing medically that's holding him back: He's just lazy.

Now before you gasp in horror:

a) There are only concequences for pooping in his underwear, not peeing.

b) I gave him a several day 'period of adjustment' window. I think it was 4 or 5 days.

If he pees, there are no major concequence. We just change his clothes, remind him that he needs to pay attention to his body, we give each other hugs and a kiss and off he goes playing again. But if he poops? Well, then all hell breaks loose. Here is what happens:

*He gets a spanking while still wearing his poopy underwear.

*I make him take off his shoes, socks, pants and poopy underwear by himself in a dark room.

*I wipe his body down using dried up baby-wipes so that you really need to scrub hard to get all the poop off.

*I put the poopy underwear up to his face and scream: Is this how big boys behave?
*I then put the poopy underwear on his head and make him do the "I'm a little Teapot" dance, all the meanwhile Leah and I point at him and laugh.

If you STILL have a horrified look on your face and think I'm serious, please close your web browser and never return to this webpage again...thanks for visiting! Okay, so thats not what I do...but it makes what I DO do as punishment seem not so bad!

If Ian poops in his underwear, he gets all his transformers taken away until the next time he poops on the potty. My reasoning for the punishment is as follows: As far as the peeing goes, I totally get that he's not 4 yet, and that he can easily get sidetracked and if he doesn't pay attention it's VERY easy (and understandable) that he'd pee in his underwear. All it takes is the mind to wander a bit, and BOOM, you've got soaked grundies.

But pooping takes effort. It's a deliberate act that requires a combonation of concentration, will-power, determination, breath-holding and (depending on diet) a fair amount of grunting. That is not something that just slips your mind. I say that if you can slip off into a corner of the room behind the lamp and endtable, squat down outta sight and open up and let loose, you can easily say "Daddy, I gotta go poopy". Premeditation, my friend, is the determining factor here.

So before I implimented my hard and fast rule, I drilled it into his head and made sure he truly understood what the concequences were. When D-day came, I let him know it. You know what? It was DAYS before he pooped in his underwear. He pottytrained like a champ!

Sure enough, the first time he pooped in his underwear was his first day at his new preschool (Go figure!). So he got a pass on that one, since I wasn't there. But the next time he did it, which was a good 3 or 4 days later I took his Transformers away and he was SO upset. Rightfully so, as they are his favorite possessions...but I then explained to him that it depends on his actions.

Even though we've had some accidents here and there, generally I think Ian is doing pretty well. Granted, he's at the stage that he should have been at around 3 or even 3.5 yrs old (he turns 4 in less than 2 weeks!), but we're certainly seeing progress. Knock on wood, lets hope this continues!

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In other news, I got a new tattoo a few weeks ago. I decided to get this most recent one commemorating the impact running has had on me over the past few years: It has helped me to lose 60lbs (keeping all 60 off is another story!), which has greatly improved my self esteem & self image. It also commemorates my ability to complete a flippin' Marathon. That still floors me to think that I was able to achieve that, by the way.

I chose the image that i got because it depicts how I feel during my long runs on the weekend: It's just peaceful, quiet and I'm out there all by myself enjoying what I am doing. The tattoo is a silhouette of a runner against a multi-colored sky (sunset or sunrise, you decide). You might recognize the image!

Here is a picture:

I have a Half Marathon in 2 weeks that I am SO not prepared for...but believe it or not, I'm starting to get the itch to do another marathon. I told Allison I wouldn't do one anytime in the near future, but I'm looking at all these upcoming races and get to thinking "Hmmm, I could train for that."

We did agree, however, on one marathon that I will do. We're going to go to Hawaii for our 10 year anniversary and while we're there I'm going to run the Honolulu Marathon. I gotta get training though, as it's only 31 months away!

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I recently got back from a 'guys' weekend. The plan hatched at a wedding reception last July, but first a little backstory: Allison and her roommates from college get together every summer and go somewhere for a weekend. They've been doing this every year since we graduated and I think it's great.

Well, anyway so the husbands/boyfriends of all these rommates were at the bar (go figure!)during the reception and it was decided that we were going to have a guys golf weekend. We decided it was going to be a long weekend of, well, golf. I ran out on the dance floor to where Allison was all alone doing the funky chicken...or was it the electric slide? Anyway, and I checked with She-Who-Brings-Home-The-Bacon, and she gave me the green light. Silly her thought it was a drunken plan that would be forgotten about by morning!

Anyway, as plans do, they changed and it morphed into a trip of 4 guys to Myrtle Beach. We were all excited because none of us had ever been there before. We ended up playing 5 rounds of golf in 4 days, and we all did well at some point or another.

The most memorable part of the trip? Nope, not either of my birdies, nor the slew of pars I got. And not even the fact that I was able to keep my drives in the fairway for a majority of the rounds.

It was the fuckin' squirrels.

I kid you not, these things were bullies. They would walk right up to you, and I mean right up to you. I think it was Phil who first held out his driver to shoo the thing away and the motherfucker came closer! The little bastards had deathwishes as we'd even resort to yelling at the things and they'd still inch closer taunting us.

And this was not an isolated instance, as these creepy little fuckjobs were everywhere the first 3 days. You have never lived until you've seen about 900lbs of homosapiens fear for their lives due to 3lbs of fur. Someone took a picture of it, or maybe it was even a video with their cell phone...but I'm not going to say who, as I'm pretty sure you can hear me scream like a schoolgirl when the thing lurched forward at us.

In case you can't even fathom what the Devil himself looks like in such a small package, I found a picture online of those menacing little freaks-of-nature. If you cross paths, steer clear, my friends, if you value your life:

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This past weekend we went camping, as Allison put in her blog. Again, I won't bore you with the details as she already has (typed out the details, not bored you...well, maybe she has but I won't tell her you said that). You can go to her blog to read about it if you haven't yet.

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That really is about all that has been going on...as if that isn't enough! I'll leave you with a few pictures I took yesterday while at a playground. The kids went down to a stream that is nearby and we usually throw rocks in the water. Well, it wasn't very deep and there was a line of rocks that Ian wanted to cross. At first I said no, but then realized it wasn't cold out, and I had a change of clothes for both kids in the car. So I decided to let them go hog-wild. Please note that Ian had just been riding his bike and often forgets to take off his helmet. Who am I to tell him, especially if he's stomping around on wet and slippery rocks!

Dad card suspension / Easter Outtakes

Ok, Easter is over. The famous bunny has left his mark here in CT and has moved on to other parts of the world. Everyone in the world will put up the cutest, most adorable, greatest shots of their kids and loved ones from this historic and fabled day.

Not this guy.

Below you will find only our outakes. That means you won't find a great shot of both kids, or Leah smiling or Ian showing his cutest side. You'll only find the pictures that shouldn't be put up for others to see.

BUT. Before I do that, I do have to share a heart wreching discussion I had with Ian last week. This was an impromptu talk i had that ended up (in my opinion) requiring the suspension of my dad card. Thankfully a neighbor pulled me back into the game and allowed me to redeem my status of allowing to raise my children 'without the supervision of others'.

Okay, so last week we had beautiful weather, so we decided to take a walk to the water tower in our neighborhood. No friends were around, so it was just Ian, Leah and I. We walked down there and did our obligatory ritual of 'throwing of the rocks into the drain' routine as well as the 'walk around the tower and see if there are any snakes' ritual. After that was over, we decided to walk back home as the sun was going down and the wind was beginning to pick up.

We passed a neighbor's house, and for the record these neighbors used to have 2 rottwillers, Wanda & Marvin. Wanda was the mom, and Marvin the son. Wanda was an awesome dog who would give anyone kisses and Marvin, well, wouldn't. Let's just say there are probably only 4 dogs who have ever walked on the face of this earth who I have not liked, and Marvin is one of them. He is just not a friendly dog, and I would not miss him if the UPS guy decided to run over the devilish canine. Oh, remember way back when, when I first started running and blogging that I heard 2 monstrous horses running behind me?? Yeah, it was these two.

Anyway, Last fall I noticed that Wanda wasn't looking too good. She was limping badly and wouldn't even get up to greet anyone as they walked up her driveway, as she previously had. The biggest clue was when the neighbors posed her in their yard with the brilliant autumn leaves around her, snapping pictures. Nothing smells more like death than that.

Anyhoo, last week we were walking by their property back to our house when Ian noticed only one of the dogs (Marvin, the asshole) was out in the yard. He asked about the other.....and this is where I deserve to lose my dadcard.

Silly me, should have just said, she was inside the house. Did I say that? Oh no. That would be too peachy keen and easy as pie. I decided, impromptu-ly and without second thought to engage my son in a 'life discussion' that was a long time coming. Honestly, I didn't think it would come until one of my In-Laws decided it was time for a dirt nap. But apparently the neighbor's elderly dog decided it would come sooner. So here I was, facing a life-altering discussion on life and death...and man, did I fuck it up.

I said above, he asked about the missing dog. Smart Don would have said that the other dog was inside their house sleeping...but Idiot Don decided to have this life discussion on a random Tuesday afternoon that involved a neighborhood dog that Ian hadn't seen since November as opposed to a beloved relative lying in repose in the serenity of a hospice or funeral home.

This is how the discussion went:

"Dad, where's the other dog?"

"Well, Ian, Wanda was really sick."

"Who is Wanda?"

"Wanda was the other dog, and she was really sick, and really old, and hurt a lot so Wanda's body couldn't keep up anymore, so Wanda Died."

"What's 'died', dad?"

"That means that Wanda's body stopped working, Ian, so she stopped breathing and her heart stopped beating."

"So where is she, Dad, and when will she get better?"

Okay, this is the point where my 'dad' card deserves to be ripped from my possession. Remember, I was in the heat of the moment and was SO not planning on having this discussion anytime whatsoever in the near future.

"well, Ian. Her body stopped working, so she stopped breathing and living, so she was buried in the ground".

Okay, hold it.

You can only imagine the questions that my explanation lead to, and the panicked look on Ian's face. We actually had to stop our walk and I had to sit down and comfort Ian because he was crying so hard, knowing that Wanda wasn't coming back. He just kept repeating that Wanda was his 'favorite' dog and that he loved her 'very, very much'. Mind you, Ian hadn't seen this dog in several months and didn't even know her flippin name.

So I tried to further the discussion, but it just wasn't going well at all. We got back to our house and a neighbor walked by with her kids, both whom are which about the same age as ours.

As the kids were playing, I told their mom about what had just happened. She tells me about when she had to deal with the subject, about an uncle of their kids...and how the uncle was in Heaven.

HEAVEN? Aw, dude. Why didn't I think of that? I try to explain death to my kid, and I go for the scientific/natural angle as opposed to the spiritual/feel good angle.

"Wanda is rotting and decomposing in the backyard of our neighbors, Ian, not playing in poppyseed fields and drinking unlimited supply of mineral spring water." Way to think on your toes, Don.

Anyway, I tried re-explaining the whole thing to Ian, how people (and pets) actually go to heaven, and aren't sick or hurting anymore. He believed it, and actually took comfort in it. It pulled on my heart-strings to hear Ian talk about how he's 'happy' to hear that Wanda isn't hurting anymore and that that she's happy and that we all can be happy and a family when we all get to heaven someday.

Okay, since he bought into it and I saved myself, I feel that I can keep my Dad card afterall. And to celebrate that, I give to you those outtake photos of today, Easter 2008.

No cute shots, no great pictures of the kids in their 'holiday best'. Just the pictures that should have been deleted in the first place. Happy Easter!

Okay, I need to explain this next one. All the kids go up to the front of church and today they were asked if they knew how to read...some kids raised their hands, and not wanting to be left out, so did Ian. Obviously, he doesn't, but he INSISTED he knew how to read. Pastor Ricki skipped over him and he really didn't like it. So he started crying and just put his head in his hands. Allison went up to get him and calm him down. I just reached for the camera.




Okay, so there are the goofy pictures. I swore to myself that I wouldn't include any 'good' ones, but how can I leave them out. Here are just a few.



Ian and I blowing up a baloon


Ian getting ready for the Easter Bag Hunt




Leah, Post-Candy

Pooptastic

So today I went with my Father In Law to pick up a bedroom set that Allison's aunt wanted to give us for the kids. We're not planning on using it now, but we decided to put it in our storage unit for when we move.

I come back and Allison tells me that Leah was playing on the floor, then crawled over to the diaper bag that was on the floor, pulled out a diaper (it was actually Ian's pull-up), held it up in the air towards Allison and said "poopy? poopy?". Allison changed her, and guess what? She was poopy.

I kind of laughed, thinking how weird would that be that Leah could do that. Well, we were over at my in-laws later in the day for dinner and Leah was playing on the floor. Well, guess what she did?

She crawled over to the basket where the diapers are kept, pulled one out, held it up in the air and did her little potty chant: "Poopy? poopy?". Allison smiled and pointed out what she was doing and said she bet Leah was poopy. So Allison proceeds to change her and what do you think happened? Sure as shit, Leah was poopy.

HOW TWISTED IS IT THAT OUR 14mo OLD IS MORE AWARE THAN OUR 46mo OLD?

In case that age difference didn't hit you square between your peepers, I'm going to filter out the caps yelling and just put their ages down:

14 months VS 46 months.

That is so fucked up.

I swear I'm going to switch my efforts over to Leah and try to get her potty trained first.

Oh my god...the reality of it just set in. It is a distinct possibility that I'll soon be able to say that I have only one child in diapers...and it will be my preschooler/kindergartner and not my toddler.

Excuse me while I go stick my head in the oven.

A confession

As you know, I don't hold any punches here in my blog. I tell things like they are, whether it makes me look like a rock star or a complete buffoon. I say that because something has been weighing heavy on my mind lately. I've been debating whether or not I want to talk about it here, but as I say, I usually don't hold anything back and tell you guys what's going on with me. So I've decided that I need to spill it. It's not easy to fess up to it, but as I understand it, it'll help with the healing process.

There is something about me that I'm not proud of. It's been affecting my family for years, and across a few generations...two that I know of for sure, maybe more. It's common, yet no one really talks about it because of it's devestating effects it can have on families.

There is treatment, yet I doubt everyone who needs it seeks it. No one wants to own up to the fact that they need help from outside sources and there are many who feel they can beat it on their own.

Well, I am not one of those people anymore. I am now willing to face my demons and admit that I have a problem. A big problem. I have a problem and I need help. Ok, here goes...(this is the first time I'm writing this out).

Hi, My name is Don. And I'm Lactose Intolerant.

Wow. That wasn't as hard as I thought it would be! I thought it would be more difficult to admit that in a public forum such as this. Hmmph.

I don't know when, why, how or what triggered this. Well, I know what triggered this, but for some reason I have become lactose intolerant. At least I think I have. I still need to try to cut out all dairy products to see if that makes a difference, but I've been paying close attention the last few days and I'm pretty sure thats the culprit.

This royally sucks because I've always prided myself on having an iron stomach, not to mention that I'm a huge fan of dairy. I know there are daily pills I can take to help with it, but I'd rather not have to go that route and have to rely on taking a pill otherwise risking isolating myself from anyone within 100 yards....for hours on end. But then again, I'm already taking multivitamins and other crap every day, so whats one more pill.

So I'll begin to cut out dairy and see if that makes a difference. Fear not, I'll keep you updated. Oh. And if we're at a party together and you see me hovering around the cheese plate, I give you permission to knock some sense into me...unless I've taken my lactaid.

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On another equally (if not moreso) sucky note, we received some bad news about Ian's preschool. Without getting into details here (which I couldn't really do anyway because it seems to be a he said/she said kind of thing between the principal and the teacher), it boils down to this: This semester Ian's school is one hour a day, two days per week.

Not only that, but they shifted the time up by 15 minutes. So instead of Allison bringing him in at 8am and me picking him up at 10am, he now will be in school from 7:45 to 8:45. What the fuck is that? What in God's name can you accomplish in an hour with a room full of Preschoolers?

Oh yeah, thats another doozie! Ian's first day of the new semester was yesterday (Tuesday)...out of the 10 kids that were in the class last semester, only 3 are returning for the 2nd semester. Yup, 7 sets of parents decided to pull their kids from the program.

I certainly don't blame them, as one hour, twice a week isn't much of a program. But if there was still the same number of kids it at least would have FELT like preschool to the kids...3 year olds can't tell time. Time flies for them anyway, I bet they never would have noticed the difference. But there is a HUGE void with only 3 kids there I bet. I didn't pick Ian up yesterday, so I didn't get what the vibe was. But I'm looking forward to getting the feel tomorrow.

I'm not sure what kind of luck we'll have getting him in somewhere else for the balance of the semester, not to mention the cost of another program...a major deciding factor in going with the one at the High School was the low cost.

But that's my next objective: To see if we can find a supplemental place for Ian to get a school-type/group setting a few hours a week to show him that, in fact, he is NOT the center of the universe!

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Let's see, what else is going on? The kids are still sick. Well, Ian seemed to have pulled through for the most part, but Leah is hanging onto this virus like it was a new Transformer (Leah's favorite toys too, by the way). Hopefully she'll be better in the next few days, because honestly, I'm tired of isolation...I try to keep the kids away from others when they're sick, because it's the right thing to do. But my patience is wearing thin, so we might go out and infect the world in the next few days. So if you see us, cross to the other side of the street.

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I'm sure there is more to tell, but I'm spent. It's time for bed.

Have a fantastic day, and for God's sake, stay away from the dairy case.

Quick Update

Yeah, it's been awhile, I know. What can I say, nothing exciting has happened: No dogs have shit on my lawn, no fish have died, no 10' bowling pins shuffling along has scared Ian, he hasn't dropped the F-bomb lately and neither kid has cured cancer.

But do you know what miracle DID happen? I had a DIY project go smoothly! In my umpteen tries at doing something myself, I believe this is the very first time that I completed a project without a single derailment.

And what was this wonderful project that I magnificently kicked ass on? It was replacing the toilet in the basement bathroom.

Last week I was in there feeding the cats when the semi-retarded one (Cleo) came in squeaking, squaking and getting all excited. She chose her path very carfully: She ran right between my 2 moving size 14 boots. Stupid me tried to avoid stepping on the 4-legged nuisance and tripped up myself and bashed into the 1970's pale green porcelin god. Immediate dripping ensued.

So anyway, on Monday afternoon allison took the kids for a bike ride/walk around the neighborhood and I was able to do the entire project in a little over an hour! This includes unhooking/draining the old one, taking it apart & bringing it to the garage, scraping off the old wax ring, installing & hooking up the new toilet, and cleaning up the tools.

Since it went problem free, i was SURE that there would be a leak when I turned the water back on....but there wasn't! Booyah......

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on an unrelated note, the kids are sick...again. Allison and the kids got sick towards the end of January. They were sick for awhile, as it just lingered. I was lucky that I didn't get sick with them. I attributed it to my eating well, working out and taking my multivitamins...yeah, that worked. I ended up with a nasty chest cold that lingered for a few weeks. That finally cleared up last week....just in time for the kids to get sick again.

We usually don't take them to the doctors for a cold, as I don't want to clog up the Drs office for something like this, especially this time of year: tis the season. But Leah has been grabbing at her ears the last day, so we have an appointment for them to check her out. I'll have them look at Ian too, since we're there, but I think it's just the run of the mill cold.

Anyway, thats all for now. I apologize for not updating sooner, but honestly there hasn't been anything to report!

Believe you me, when something fucked up happens in my life, you will be the first to know!