Well, that scared the $#!t out of me

It all started around bedtime.  I was getting the girls ready for bed and noticed the only clean pajamas they had were winter ones.  Instead of dressing them up in shorts and their regular shirts, I decided to just let them wear one of my old t-shirts as a nightgown.


Did I mention they were old t-shirts?

After putting them down, I headed out to my baseball game.  I got back home around 11:30 and, as it usually happens, I was unable to go right to sleep.  I tossed and turned for quite some time, hearing every click of the house, but not really paying much attention to them.

At some point, Mama sat up and asked me if I heard that noise.  I listened, but as I had already been wide awake and hadn't heard anything, I dismissed it.

I saw the clock turn to 2 AM, and then drifted off shortly thereafter.

SUDDENLY, Mama sat up, inhaling sharply and loudly.

This brought me out of my new found sleep and wide awake with the adrenaline pumping.  I could see the direction she was looking as her eyes were cartoonish in their size, and reflecting the tiny bit of light coming from the nightlight in the bathroom.  There should have been more light, was my first thought.  The nightlight is pretty bright, and serves to light not only the bathroom, but the hallway as well.

As I turned my head to look where she was staring, I discovered why the light was dim.

This is eerily similar to what I saw.

There, hovering in the door, was a creature of some sort.  It had no feet, and was clutching what appeared to be the remains of two dead animals.  I couldn't make out a face, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.  The hovering led me to believe we had ourselves a ghost.  Perhaps it was the little girl who allegedly fell into a cistern and died somewhere on the property. Perhaps there were other stories I didn't know of.  Perhaps it didn't matter what it had once been, it only mattered what it was now and what it wanted.

My senses were heightened.  Muscles firing, waiting for the instructions on what to do next.  Pupils dilating, trying to see as much as possible in the dim room.  Sweat glands in overdrive, creating a slick surface on my body so nothing could grab hold of me.  Brain processing every possible move I could make to keep my family safe, or to distract the creature so they could all get to freedom.  Nose flaring in an attempt to pick up some clue from smell as to a weakness I could exploit.  Ears so tuned in I could hear the slightest breeze blowing through the corn in the garden.  Fight or flight was not an option, only fight.

The ghost said nothing.  It did nothing.  It had no smell.  I couldn't make out any more details of it.  It made not a sound.  The seconds turned into what felt like hours as we each waited for the other to make the first move. 

Then it began to moan.

"Mama startled me!"

was all it could state before it started crying and gliding toward me, Frankenstein style with arms outstretched, dead animals hanging limply from each hand.  It was obviously coming to claw my throat.

Just before I started chanting and trying to exorcise the evil spirit in the name of Jesus Christ, my brain changed paths, and took my body from red alert to no alert.  Somehow, while my brain was analyzing all possible scenarios, a part of it made a connection - the ghost was actually just Brynne.

Let's take another look at that picture of the girls before bed, but with a bit of editing.

With the minimal amount of light, the grey shirt was accented, while her feet were shaded.  Her hair in the picture appears to be cropped, but it was just tucked in.  When free to fall wherever it may, it covers about 2/3 of her torso, which blocked her face from sight.  The "dead animals" were actually Eeyore and a giraffe, which she has in bed with her.

After a quick conversation with Brynne, she went back to bed.  I then changed our sheets and my undies and laid back down.  Sleep would not come to meet me for another few hours, as my friend  adrenaline had to leave first.

LEAVE ME ALONE!

I get flooded with magazines at the office.  In a given month I get probably 20 magazines, all of which are related to my industry, but only a few of them are close to what I actually do. 

At first, I thought they'd eventually stop sending them to me, so I just recycled them...but they don't.  One particular magazine has had a warning on the front cover telling me "this is the last one I will receive unless I renew now", and it's been there for six months!

I don't get FitPregnancy, but it's the only picture I could find like this.

I get about a call or two a week from their "renewal specialists" informing me all I need to do to renew is to verify some piece of data, so if I just tell them ________ (insert private and possibly confidential information), they'll keep the magazine's coming.  When I'd tell them to cancel my subscription it never got done.

This guy got promoted from door-to-door sales to an office job!

Strangely, I never gave them any information to begin with, so I'm not sure what they are verifying!  They just started sending me magazines and asking for it.

I used to get two or three emails a week asking me to confirm, or giving me their online version of the magazine.  Early on, I started using their unsubscribe feature, which resulted in me getting five to ten emails a week.  I can't remember who I've unsubscribed and which ones are new.

Recently, I've started doing something different.  Here is the transcript of a recent phone call, with their words in red, mine in blue, and funny side notes from me in black:

Hello Mr. Janakis, this is Blah, calling for Blah Blah magazine.  Your free subscription is just about to expire.  In order to continue receiving Blah Blah magazine, we just need you to verify the month you were born.

California. 

It might be childish, but at the same time it's rewarding to hear the long pause, followed by them asking the question again. 

Mr. Jankin, could I have the month you were born?

Oh, sorry, I thought you asked something else.  Broccoli.

Another long pause, followed by

Mr. Jankis, that is not an option.

Oh, sorry, I guess I don't understand the question.  What are my options?

Another long pause.  I can't tell if the guy is frustrated or doesn't get it, but he persists.

We need to verify the month you were born so your magazine service is not interrupted.

Hmmm.  That's a tough one, and I'm not too good with history.  Let me see if I can find the answer to your question and I'll call you back.  Sound like a plan?

Mr. Junkees, all we need to continue your magazine subscription is to verify your month of birth.

I know.  Don't you see what's going on here?  I'm not going to give it to you.  According to the statement you've made at least three times, if I don't give it to you, you can't verify it, and you'll stop sending me a magazine I don't read.  Correct?

Yeah, I guess. 

I know you don't work for the magazine, and are just trying to do a job for a company they've hired, but I've tried to get this magazine stopped at least half a dozen times, so I'm a bit frustrated with the whole process.  Can you stop the subscription or tell me what hoops I have to jump through to do it?

Certainly.  I'll take your name off the list.  Based on the magazine subscriptions you currently have there are several other magazines you may be interested in receiving.  Would you like to hear about them?

Seriously?

Yes.

No.  Can't you just tell me to have a nice day and hang up?

No.

Well that's rude.  I hope you have a nice day and better luck with your next call.

No, er, I mean, uh, have a nice day.  I can't hang up on you.

Seriously?

Yeah, we're not allowed.

What do you think is worse, hanging up on me or telling me your company forbids you from hanging up on me?

I don't know.

Well, let's see if we can get a rule changed.

What?  Hello?  Hello?  Hello?

I was prepared to fight this corporate bureaucracy (that's a lot of vowels for one word) for as long as it took to change a rule.  Exactly five minutes is all I had to fight.

So now I don't know if he lied about not being able to hang up on me, is a rebel and did it anyway, found a clause in the employee handbook which allowed him to hang up, or if his boss made one of those tough decisions only good leaders can make.

Guess I'll find out next month when he calls back.

Fury and Fun, Part 2

If you didn't read the first part of this, you'll need to go back and do that.  Now, the rest of the story.

Part of my frustration that evening had come from little things I noticed.  A basket of laundry needing to be folded and put away.  A load of wash needing to go to the dryer.  Another load waiting to be cleaned.  Yet another load in the dryer, waiting to be removed.  The dish washing machine's red light on, which meant dishes were clean and needed to be put away.  Dishes stacked on the counter, waiting to be loaded into the washer.  Toys scattered everywhere in the toy room.  Trash can overflowing.

This is not our house, but gives you an idea of what I was seeing.

Don't get me wrong here, I'm not throwing Mama under the bus for slacking on housework.  This just happens when you have five members of a family and only one of them can keep the peace at home during the week.  She had her hands full, and I could tell with just one look she'd done everything she could not to explode that day.

I really wanted to spend some time with Ruby and Mama that night, just hanging out and relaxing.  That couldn't happen if one of us spent the entire evening doing chores.  And then it hit me.

Let's make a game out of this!

I knelt down next to the girls and asked if they were ready for a BIG adventure, to which they instantly replied YES!

So we did.

"Our first big adventure, is to crawl under the chairs in the dining room.  GO!"

We raced to the dining room and all of us crawled through the chairs and under the table.  They made it through easier than I did, but I still made it through.

"Our next big adventure is to tickle Mama's feet.  GO!"

The girls raced to the plant room (we call it a plant room instead of the TV room due to the ginormous plant Mama has there.  Plantzilla has been known to eat small animals, which is why we never leave Ruby alone near it) and informed Mama we were there to tickle her feet.

As I started thinking of another adventure, I realized the girls didn't care what it was, they were just happy to be doing something different.  So I took a chance. 

"Our next big adventure is to empty the dishwasher.  GO!"

We dashed to the kitchen and unloaded the dishwasher.  As we were wrapping up, Hadley started reloading it, so we crossed those two items off my list.

Dishes are done, dude!

The rest of the adventures, if memory serves, occurred in this order:

Going behind the couch and jumping up, yelling boo!
Putting the clothes from the dryer into the laundry basket, the washer into the dryer, then reloading the washer.
Covering ourselves with pillows from the couch.
Picking up the toy room.
Going to stand in the downstairs shower.
Tickling Mama's feet.
Taking the clean clothes upstairs and putting them away, room by room.
Getting under the covers on Mama and Papa's bed.
Getting ready for bed.
Hiding in a closet.
Getting in the upstairs shower.
Going back downstairs to give Mama a hug and a kiss, as well as to tickle her feet.
Crawling through the dining room chairs.
Going to bed.

By the time we got to bed it was after their bedtime, but that was fine.  We read their bible, prayed, and they fell instantly to sleep.  I got to spend the night relaxing with Mama and Ruby, and even got my brandy.

Since then, we've done the BIG adventures a few times, but not too often to make it lose the appeal.  The girls have started coming up with their own ideas.  Brynne's eyes get wide as can be, while she tells me

"The nexxxxxt biiiiiiiiig abenture isssssssssssssss....to tickle Mama's feet!"

She's usually off and running before completing the sentence.  The other night, she even came up with her own original adventure...to go outside and look at the moon and stars.

Car troubles

It's a beautiful, crisp Saturday morning.  I let Mama know I'm headed into town to run some errands by myself.  I love saying "I'm heading into town", it makes me feel so country.  The car starts fine and as I head out, the radio is playing a song I like, but I have the volume low as I'm just enjoying the morning.

As I turn from one country road onto the next I must have hit a pothole, as I now hear an unfamiliar  sound. 

click, click, click

This is in my future, I'm sure of it.

When I change speeds, the sound neither picks up the pace or slows down. 

click, click, click

I listen intently, trying to find the source of the sound, but it sounds as though it's coming from everywhere.

click, click, click

Since I'm starting to become concerned, I pull to the side of the road and listen.  Switching the car to neutral and then to park doesn't change the sound.  Reverse does nothing either.

click, click, click

I put the car back into drive and decide to head to my mechanic, just in case. 

click, click, click

Perhaps I could hear better if I roll down the window.

click, click, click

It may not be "the most annoying sound in the world", but it was close.

No difference.  The radio was already playing softly in the background, but I decide to turn it off, in case that helps me hear better.

silence

The click is gone.  While I do enjoy the silence for a second, I turn the radio back on, thinking maybe there's a short in the radio or something.

click, click, click

There it is again.  It takes me a few seconds to realize what an idiot I am. 

Do you know why I'm an idiot?  Please don't post comments about why I'm an idiot in general, just why I am in this instance.  I think blogger would shut down if everyone posted comments about my idiocy.  The right answer is:

click, click, click was part of the drum beat in the song on the radio.

At least I got to start the day with a good laugh, even if it was laughing at myself.

Happy ending at the new house

You may be disappointed with this post after reading the title, but oh well.  I needed an attention getter and thought that might work.  Even if you were looking for some other kind of story, feel free to read on.

Probably none of you (except possibly Mandy) reading this will recall the post I did about our old house making parts of toys disappear.  You can go here to read it, if you want.  Actually, you should probably read it first if you don't remember it as the rest of this might not make as much sense.

I wanted to give you two updates on the post. 

Update 1: 

When we were moving, we found the missing pig magnet piece under some puzzles.  I think the house was trying to bribe us into staying around a little longer by giving us this back.

It didn't work, obviously.

Update 2:

Brynne and I were playing in the living room a few weeks ago when she suddenly exclaimed

"LOOK PAPA!  THE RING!"

My first thought was to grab her and run from the house screaming.

I never saw the movie, but the trailer still spooks me.

 My second thought was "Crap, now we have to head for Mordor".

My precious!

Before I could get to my third thought, she was jumping up and down, yelling

"I found the purple ring!  Look Papa, I found it!  Hooray Brynne!"

At this point Hadley joined in the celebrations, congratulating her sister for her huge find.  We immediately took it to join its friends on the stand where it belonged.  There was a big party, lots of wooden pieces crying and hugging each other...so glad to all be back together again.  It was really a touching moment.

The ring could only provide minor insight into where it had been and the wonderful adventures it partook in.  I speak a little German, a little more Spanish, and no Wooden Ring, so the broken bits I was able to translate using the "Wooden Ring to English" app on my phone led me to this conclusion:  as far as I could tell, it had been tucked into the cushions of a baby swing (by two or four tiny hands) we had packed the swing away over two years ago. 

Either that, or the house magically teleported the ring back from the depths of the old house's Bermuda Triangle as a house warming (or self warming if you're thinking from the house's perspective) present for us.  As I said, my language skills combined with the ring's lack of skill at Charades makes this part a bit fuzzy.

At least one thing is for certain:  the new house doesn't have any biases against toys where the number of parts is evenly divisible by 13.

Hooray! 

Christmas Confession

Here's another holiday repeat from last year.  Hope you enjoy it!

I would think it's safe to say that everyone who celebrates Christmas has Christmas memories.  Some are good, some are bad, but all are memories.  Thanks to This Daddy's Blog post for getting me thinking about the past and remembering what I am about to confess.

The jury is out on this one.

When I was young, I was sneaky.  If you've read any of my vacation posts, you've probably realized this is not the confession.  I need to build a little anticipation here, so I'll drag it out as long as I can. 

Back in the day I was one of those kids that went hunting through the house to find my presents.  I thought I knew all the hiding places my parents used.  Actually, I did know most of them at one point. 

I'm not sure if they got wise to my hunting skills, just started mixing it up on their own, or if they forgot where their hiding spots were, but at some point I stopped finding all of my presents early.  This is probably because they started wrapping the gifts as soon as they got them, which leads me to believe they were onto me. 

The only exception to this was the big gifts.  Those I almost always found, until they started hiding them at other people's houses.  Even at a young age I wasn't willing to risk a breaking and entering charge to find my presents, so they were off limits to me.

What is a mischievous kid supposed to do in that instance when all the fun of hunting is taken out of the holiday season? 

Here's what I did - I found ways to be alone with the presents. 

Sometimes I:

1 - faked an illness so I could stay home from school. 

2 - played upstairs by the tree while the rest of the family was downstairs. 

3 - came home early from a friend's house when I thought our house would be empty.

4 - grabbed a present and took it to the bathroom.

5 - grabbed a present, hid it in my room, and got up in the middle of the night to check it out.

Sounds like someone had to try to figure out what he was getting before Christmas morning, doesn't it?

I never tried to figure them out. 

I simply unwrapped them, saw what I was getting, rewrapped them ever so carefully (being sure the paper that pulled off with the tape went back exactly where it came from), and put them back under the tree.

My work was much better than this.  Amateur.

There's the confession.  I'm sure my mom and dad are going to love finding this little nugget out like this!

Why would I open presents early?  I have no idea. 

Maybe I wanted to string out Christmas over the course of a few weeks instead of just one morning.  Maybe I just had to know what I was getting so I could plan out my morning in advance.  Maybe, just maybe, I did it because I wasn't supposed to.

I'd put all my money on that last choice if I were you.

Holiday Tips

This is a repeat from a post done last year.  I thought I'd put it out there in advance of the holidays to give people time to prepare themselves.

Ahhh! The holiday season is upon us once again.  In case you've forgotten from last year (and the year before, and the year before, etc.), it's the time of year we all go crazy.  Everything we do is done to excess.  Here are a few things you might want to pay a little more attention to this year - some of them may even save or make you money.

Food - meals

If you need a helmet to eat it's probably too much food.

In my experience, most every family has some sort of large meal on or around Thanksgiving and Christmas (or Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or Festivus).  For most people, these two meals are the largest meals they will consume all year. 

As everyone knows, the best way to get your body to metabolize this gluttonous meal is to sit on the couch and nap.  Having the TV on will only make the process work that much better.  Carbs and starches magically disappear while sleeping, so if at all possible, do not attempt any form of physical exertion.

Since everyone else that comes to eat will be bringing food, don't bother making or buying anything.  Just show up and eat.  Nobody will know you didn't contribute as long as you don't mention it.  If someone asks, tell them you brought cookies and just dumped them on someone else's tray.

Before you leave, don't forget to take leftovers home with you.  Nobody gets tired of eating the same thing day after day after day.  You'll get to it at some point so don't worry about discovering it in the back of the fridge growing mold in a month.  By all means, load up and save on groceries for January.

Food - snacking

Not only do we gorge ourselves at mealtime, but we are constantly eating between meals.  Here are a few tips to keep in mind. 

1 - Chocolate aids in the digestive process of all other foods, especially those high in fat and cholesterol.  Be health conscious and load up on these. 

2 - Make sure you grab a handful (or two) of whatever salty snack is sitting out all month long every time you walk by the bowl.  Salt is good for you!  It can raise your blood pressure, which makes your heart have to work that much harder, which means your heart is getting stronger.  This additional labor can only continue as long as you feed calories into your body, so keep on cramming food into your gullet.  The only time you should stop is when you lose consciousness fall asleep.

If you find a bowl of something sitting out with no salt, don't immediately blame your host.  Nobody in their right mind buys unsalted foods at this time of year.  The simple explanation is this:  some child got hold of the snack and sucked off all the salt.  They are learning good nutritional habits at a young age, so don't chastise them.  Just grab a salt shaker and reapply.  If you've discovered the problem in time, the treat may still be moist enough to allow the new salt to stick.  Bonus!

3 - Doctors recommend drinking a lot of water, but water has no nutritional value.  Soda (aka pop, coke, soft drinks, colas, soda pops) is made from water - and has other added nutrients.  Don't waste precious cargo space on just water alone, make sure you have some additional artificially-occurring substance blended in with it.  And don't do the diet drinks; everyone knows the sweeteners used to make them cause cancer.

It still counts as one glass in my book

4 - In the spirit of combining things, make sure your soda has plenty of booze in it.  If you're not a booze person, do what you like.  Red wine is actually good for you.  If one glass is good, two has to be better.  The theory holds true - as long as you can hold your wine down.

Americans make or buy more treats during December than the other 11 months combined!  (I made that up, but it sounds good). 

Financials

Feel free to run up your credit card debt to buy as much stuff as possible.  Since housing prices always go up and mortgage rates always go down, you can always roll your credit card debt into a new mortgage and get a lower rate.  A win-win scenario! 

Once you discover all the crap you bought is no longer being used, typically within two weeks, you can start preparing for a garage sale.  No self-respecting garage sale shopper will try to haggle you down on pricing and most will pay more than face value for a semi-used toy with missing parts.  In effect, you have turned a profit on the holiday and can use those funds to buy more decorations as they should now be on sale! 

Win-win-win for team Griswold!

To quote my wife, "Looks like Christmas threw up on their house".

While we're on shopping, don't buy on-line.  Make sure you go stand in lines for hours on end to save the extra $1.47 you would have spent at an e-tailer.  Everything related to the Internet is a scam.  All those sites are doing is getting your credit card information and planning on stealing your money.  While you're at it, better cancel all credit cards, just to be safe.  Take your money out of the bank and only use cash.

Better safe than sorry.

If you're not much of a shopper, just get gift cards.  Everyone appreciates a $20 card to somewhere they'd never eat or to a regional store that doesn't exist where they live.  Nothing says "I cherish our relationship so much that I spent 12 seconds thinking about what to get you this year" quite like a prepaid Visa card.  And don't bother with wrapping it.  Any old envelope will do.  The best are reply envelopes which are typically enclosed in credit card offers.  Even though you won't be getting a credit card, you can still use the envelope and save some more cash.
 
Scheduling

You can make anything work if you try.  Visiting three different locations in one day is easy.  Not only do you get to buy gifts for three sets of people (and therefore get three sets in return to resell), you get to eat three times the amount of food and take home three times the amount of leftovers! 

Aside from family gatherings you can also plan on attending office parties, fundraisers, children's performances, get togethers with friends, and any other number of events you can either get invited to or invite yourself to.  Make sure you go to everything!  You simply cannot miss anything. 

You have the rest of the year to just hang out with your own family and enjoy them, so go ahead and sacrifice now.  You'll be thanking me for it later.

I hope this helps!  I look forward to hearing your success stories in the weeks and months to come!

You know you're tired when...

1 - you wonder why your mouse isn't working, until you realize you've grabbed your cell phone and are trying to use that to manipulate your computer.

but my mouse is wireless

2 - the phone rings, you pick it up, nobody is on the other end, and it keeps ringing. Meaning, you picked up your cell phone when the office phone was ringing.

another way to fail using the phone

3 - you find yourself in a 30 minute conversation with the most annoying person in your office and you are okay with it because it keeps you from falling asleep at your desk.

Yes, Milton, I'm still listening

4 - you have to touch your eyeball to see if you did, in fact, remember to put in your contacts that morning.

bet he doesn't have this problem

5 - you try not to blink because reopening your eyes seems like too much work.

a much better solution

6 - you hang up a call rather than be put on hold because the elevator music they're playing might put you to sleep.

7 - you take two hours to realize you never turned on the light in your office.

I suppose that's enough light to work by

8 - you start eating lunch and then realize it's only 9 AM.

whatever

9 - the funniest thing you've heard all day is the guy in the office next to you repeating "hello" 35 times before deciding something is wrong with the caller's phone. Actually, it was 35 times over four different calls...I counted.

apparently not

10 - you count the number of times the guy in the office next to you says hello before hanging up.

11 - you catch yourself doing the sleeping head bob, while in the restroom.

at least he's not on the toilet

12 - you find yourself mentally measuring the space under your desk and wondering if you could nap there without anyone finding out.

sadly, the answer is no

13 - you've managed to finish a Mountain Dew before anyone else is even in the office.

I can't wait for the sugar high to wear off, maybe then I'll sleep

All of this happened to me the other morning so I thought I'd share it - and because I haven't had a good list post in quite some time. 

Go ahead, laugh at me.  I'm not sure I'll even know what's going on if this keeps up.

Jealous much?

It's 3 AM. I haven't been able to fall asleep yet. Tossing and turning in bed, I listen to the noises around me. The air conditioner cycles on and off for the millionth time. When it goes off, I imagine it is actually going to sleep. The dogs, comfortably asleep in their houses - at our home we call their cages houses to sound more animal friendly - turn over. There are some crickets outside my window, but everything else is asleep. Julia rolls over, still sound asleep. I can tell Brynne just rolled over by the squeak in her crib. Since she made no other sound, I know she is sacked out.  

Can I get an AMEN!

Then I hear it.

All done sleeping. 
All done sleeping. 
All done sleeping. 
All done sleeping. 
All done sleeping. 
ALL DONE SLEEPING!

It's not the voices in my head, this time.  Apparently, Hadley is all done sleeping. 

I go into her room and she is standing in her crib.  When she sees me in the low light, she throws her hands in the air and then whispers (so as not to wake her sister)

All done sleeping.

I pick her up and take her back to our room, explaining to her it is too early to be done sleeping.  When I ask why she is all done, she informs me

I'm cold.

I lay her in our bed and go to switch their air conditioner to a warmer setting.  When I return, she is laying with her head on my pillow, under the covers, fast asleep.  It took all of 13 seconds.

I crawl into bed next to her and just watch her (and Julia) sleep.  So peaceful.  So sweet.  So out of it. 

Why can't I sleep like this?  Why can't I be asleep before my head hits the pillow?

I try to wake her up to take her back to her room, but she won't stir.  Finally, she opens her eyes and smiles at me and says 

Hadley sleepy.

I scoop her up, give her a little kiss on the forehead, and carry her back to bed.  When I go to lay her down she once again tells me

All done sleeping.

Since she's yawning as she says this I don't believe her.  Once again, she's out immediately.

I, meanwhile, go back to lay in my bed, still wide awake.  When the clock hits 4:30 AM I get up and go work out.

Perhaps I should move to Brooklyn.

Just another day with no sleep for Papa.  YAY!  At least everyone else got to rest.  I'll just have to catch up on my sleep at the office.  I know I'll get tired right as my day starts.

Who am I talking to?

Here is a quick list of things I find myself saying frequently at home:

No.

Sit.

Stay.

No.

Don't eat anything off the floor.

Don't eat grass.

No.

Don't touch the oven.

You need to sit on your bottom or lay down when you're on a chair.

No.

You're not supposed to be in this room.

Don't go to the bathroom there.

No.

Excuse you.

How about some kisses?

No.

Do you want to go outside?

Be quiet.

No.

Can you tell which comments are directed toward a dog and which ones are for children?  I'll give you a hint - anything in italics applies to both.

Where could it be?

If you have little ones, or maybe even if you don't, you come to realize there is a Bermuda Triangle somewhere in your house.  One day you have all 26 pieces of a toy/game, and the next you have 25.  Usually, that one day is the first day you open said toy or game.

We have, so far, only lost two items to the Triangle that I am aware of.  They are: 

If I was any good wtih editing pictures, the purple ring would be missing here.

RIP pig

The more I think about it, the more I realize both of these things have 26 pieces.  The four blank magnets don't come with the set.

It would seem the Triangle in our house doesn't like the number 26.  Perhaps it's because it's divisible by 13.  For me, 13 is my lucky number.  For the house, which is clearly possessed, it's an unacceptable number.

From now on, we're only buying toys that can't be divided by 13 exactly. 

I think that solves the problem - until we move and have to determine the new house's likes and dislikes.

My recent Facebook posts

Here are a few of my favorite status updates from the last month or so, with a brief description where warranted.  They are listed in no particular order:  

To the very obese lady who put 6 packets of sugar in her 64 ounce diet coke fountain drink...I think you're missing something. Probably not diabetes, just basic nutritional facts.  What else can I say?

It's such a good vibration.

Just heard Marky Mark and the funky bunch on three different radio stations at the same time. Seemed strange so I googled him to be sure he wasn't dead. He's not. This was just a few days after hearing Whitney Houston all over the radio, so I had to make sure.

At a continuing education seminar and I've never seen this many phones clipped onto belts in one place at one time. Insurance people are so cool.  I was there for continuing education, not to socialize.

Just saw my neighbor use a pooper scooper to pick up after her dog. She then proceeded to throw the waste into the storm sewer. Pretty sure that isn't right.

Either our bathroom scale is broken or I put on 9 pounds yesterday and lost 8.5 of them today. 

The new phone books are here! The new phone books are here!  We just received the phone book, which went immediately into the recycle bin.  Can you name that movie? 

Answer:  The Jerk, with Steve Martin

Today is the second anniversary of my wife losing 25 pounds in seven minutes.  Our little ones turned two that day.

Didn't realize how tired I was until I took my glasses off...after I started shampooing my hair.

Just read an article on how to retire without a mortgage. One of the six recommendations was to rent instead of own. I'm thinking lazy writer + lazy editor = bad advice. I'm surprised other options didn't include moving in with friends, living on the street, and buying an RV.

Cubs lose, and are officially eliminated from postseason play.
And finally, a very timely status update from an earlier blog post of mine...

One of my favorite truths:

"If you were really the Son of God, you could just climb down off that cross!" they said.

And of course they were right. Jesus could have just climbed down. Actually, he could have just said a word and made it... all stop. Like when he healed that little girl. And stilled the storm. And fed 5,00 people.

But Jesus stayed.

You see, they didn't understand. It wasn't the nails that kept Jesus there. It was love.

What now?

Well, it finally happened.  After over four years of marriage and two years of raising children together, Julia decided to leave us.  She gave us very little warning.  I always knew it was a possibility, but I am still not prepared for it.  She deals with so much on a daily basis.  I don't know how she manages to put up with two toddlers and an insane husband all the time.  In the end, it was just too much.

Goodbye, my love.

My girls and I watched through the window as Mama drove away.  They didn't fully understand the gravity of what was going on, but I imagine my tears were telling them something was not normal.  I believe they were thinking she is just taking the car and going to get something for us all.  They do not realize she will not be coming back.  They pat me on the back, give me hugs, and then are off to play.

That's right.  She's gone.  Mama is gone.

I appreciate your continued support as I hunt and peck away at the keyboard to tell stories.  I hope I've amused you over the past six months.  I don't know when the humor may return.  I'm struggling through this black period of mourning as the reality sets in.  I apologize for any typos as the tears make the keyboard difficult to see.

I'm alone with my girls.  A newly single father tasked with raising two beautiful girls.  I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or how I'm supposed to do it, or even if I can do it.

I should've seen this coming.  I should've done more to prepare myself for the possibility. 

We got through dinner, but I'm not ready to do bath time on my own.  I'll need a lot of help, but I don't know where to turn.  I can put them to bed tonight, but what do I do when they wake up and ask for Mama?  They will do that, too.  I know it.  As sure as the sun comes up, they will ask for their mother and then what do I tell them?

Breakfast will come and go.  The same for lunch, and their afternoon nap.  When they get up from their nap, and there is still no Mama, what do I say? 

How can I explain to them that their mother is not around?  How can you explain such grown up concepts of love, loss, and abandonment?  When will they realize she is gone?  When will they wonder if they'll ever see her again?

I pray for her.  I pray she will be safe.  I pray she will do the things she needs to do.

Most of all, I pray she'll come back safely.   

And now, the rest of the story.

I am so thankful she'll only be gone one night.

What did you think I was saying?

I love misdirection.  Oh, how I love it.

Valentine's Day, according to Papapedia

There are many stories about the life of Valentinus, better known now as Saint Valentine.  They mostly center around his being martyred for his religious beliefs.  The most common story goes a little something like this (Papaphrased):

Valentinus was a Roman priest during the reign of Claudius II.  He was arrested and imprisoned after being caught marrying Christian couples and aiding Christians in general, both of which were crimes then.  He was then beaten with clubs and stones.  When he survived that, he was beheaded. 

Miraculously he survived that too, as his head was not entirely severed from his body.  He then changed his name to Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington and, after being rejected by the organization known as the "Headless Hunt", went to live in Hogwart's castle, where he remains today.  He is affectionately referred to by students and faculty there as Nearly Headless Nick.

And a good day to you, sir!

Today, people celebrate Valentine's Day with cards, gifts, chocolate, candy, and jewelry.  Hallmark has done a wonderful job in taking a misunderstood event in history and turning a profit on it.

The true story, as I have uncovered recently in an effort to set the record straight, is this:

Valentinus was on his way to the home of a woman he loved.  It was a long journey.  Along the way, he purchased several items for her in an attempt to gain her favor.  Those items included:  a small, heart-shaped box of various chocolates; a bouquet of flowers; an open heart necklace from the Jane Seymour collection; and tiny pieces of unleavened bread with cute sayings (such as "Martyr Me",  "Luv Ya Lots", and "Pls Cnvrt") etched into them.

As I said, it was a long trip.  The flowers wilted.  Some of the chocolates melted.  He dropped the stone insert from the box of chocolates which identified what each chocolate piece consisted of.  As an aside, the diagram did a shoddy job of identifying which chocolate held caramel and which held that nasty red stuff, so even if it hadn't shattered, he still would've had much difficulty distinguishing among the chocolates.  

He finally arrived at the home of her father and sought her out.  She was disappointed with the flowers, but she saw past that.  She looked at the chocolates, only to realize something was not right.  He had forgotten to take the little palm frond wrappers out of the box and, therefore, she could see he had eaten some.  She saw past that.

She took a bite of chocolate.  The center was filled with olives.  She spat it out.  She saw past it and tried another.  This one was filled with figs.  She hated figs.  She called her father, claimed Valentinus had made improper advances upon her, and had him beheaded.

I'm not sure which is worse, giving this to someone or killing them for giving it to you.

Later, when she found the open heart necklace, she was overwhelmed with grief.  She created a story about him being beheaded due to his religious beliefs, and claimed they had been secretly wed.  She then collected the proceeds of his estate and life insurance plans and went on to live a life of luxury.

Now, I must ask.  Is this really a "holiday" you want to celebrate?

I think not.  Please join Derek, the inspiration for this post, and I in boycotting Valentine's Day.

Figure it out

When I was young I just loved the gameshow "Bumper Stumpers".  To me and my crazy little brain it was a puzzle I needed to figure out.  I still like puzzles, so everytime I get behind a car with a personalized plate I try to figure out what it says.

Man I loved this show.

I'd love to get a personalized plate with letters that combine to produce no words - just to see keep other people on their toes if they do the same thing.

Recently, with the help of two little jabbering girls, I've discovered another game.  I like to call it "What are they saying?"

Let's see how good you are at figuring these out.  The answers are at the end.

1.  Ideeda

2. Shhh oudida 

3.  Lied osh

4.  Baba shhh

5. Ablutobusta

Sometimes the game ends when I yell to Mama and ask what they are saying.  More often than not, I am calling for Mama to translate the sign they are giving me in conjunction with their speech.  I was doing well with their signs until they got to know hundreds of them.  To me, every color other than red looks the same - shake a finger or two. 

They're supposed to look like this, but with toddlers, they all look the same to me.

I've not completely given up on sign language, but I do often find myself asking them to use their words - even if they don't have words for what they're trying to say yet.

Here are the answers to the pop quiz:

1 - I see it.  Brynne couldn't find her baby so I told her it was behind the couch.  She walked over, said Ideeda, pointed to baby, and picked her up.

2 - Let's put my shoes on and go outside, or shoes outside for short.

3 - Turn the light off or on.

4 - Be quiet, the baby is sleeping.  Another form of this is Mama shhh.  Obvioulsy this is used when I get them up in the morning and Mama is not seen.  Typically, they also put their finger to their mouth to reinforce what is meant.

5 - I have no idea.  That's not what they are saying, that's my failure to translate.  I tell myself I've still won the game and this means nothing.  Guess we'll see.

How'd you do?  Any phrases your little ones use you'd like to share?

Why do you do the good things you do?

I recently ran across a list of chivalrous acts men can practice today.  As I read the list I realized it was geared toward the single guy.  The list really was a variation of one item - show respect for the woman you're with, as well as other people in general.

Chivalrous acts.  Done out of respect or done because a man wants something?  Brains specifically in this example.

I think my caption says it all, if you omit the part about brains. 

As I struggle with my own shortcomings and sinful nature, I have come to realize something:  Chivalrous acts are no longer chivalrous when you do them for selfish reasons.  You can easily replace chivalrous with any action and it will hold true.

Walking a woman to her door to make sure she arrives home safely is chivalrous.  Walking a woman to her door while hoping she'll invite you in - not so much.

For us married guys, we can still be chivalrous by doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, or simply encouraging our wives to go do something they enjoy and will help them relax.  If we're doing those things and expecting something in return, all chivalry is lost.

Even when I feel as though I am doing something out of the goodness of my heart, I find myself thinking about what I've done and how that ultimately could benefit me. I know that sounds horrible, but I find myself keeping score - and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one doing this. I know it's wrong, and I try not to do it, but at various points I find myself thinking about that.

The more I do while expecting something in return, the more the person I did it for will (most likely) start to resent those actions as they expect them to come with a price tag.  They then don't appreciate what I've done for them.  The less they appreciate, the less likely I will be to continue doing things.  What a vicious cycle!

True.

I encourage you to reread the last paragraph out loud and listen to what you are saying.  Or read it to someone else and see what they think.  It might make more of an impact.  Go ahead.  I'm done.

Is it opposite day or is it just me?

I've recently written about a poor experience I had with pain medication and muscle relaxers.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized my troubles are not limited to the heavier drugs.

If you've read any amount of my "work", you already realize I am slightly insane - or at least teetering on the brink.  My mind works in mysterious ways.  My body does too, though I'm not sure if it is mind over matter or matter over mind in this case.

Maybe I just need to be more laid back, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

I used to read the possible side effects of medications before I took them, just to see what wasn't in store for me.  Sounds strange, doesn't it?  It seemed like I would always get something they didn't list as a possibility.  Or I would get the exact opposite of what they did warn me about.  I've never had anal leakage (fecal incontinence if you prefer), death, blindness, or anything too severe, but I always get something.

Most of what I get is just irritating.  Sometimes, it is slightly more than that.

Need an example?  I'm so glad you asked.

Let's suppose I have a prescription which warns about the possibility of dry mouth.  My side effect is slobbering and drooling.

Constipation equals me tied to a toilet.

Loose bowel warnings tell me to avoid cheese as I'll be blocked up for a week.

Fluid retention means I'm dehydrated.

Increased appetite results in a hunger strike.

Getting the picture?

I stopped reading the labels to see if my mind was causing me to suffer or if my body was acting on its own.  As luck would have it, I still don't know the answer.  Something is messed up, but neither my body nor my brain seem to be the clear cause. 

So...how exactly do you contact them if you're dead?

Perhaps the most frustrating example has to do with drowsiness.  The non-drowsy cold medicines wire me up and my brain shoots to crazy places.  The coma-inducing ones do the same thing, but to an even greater extent.  Unless, of course, I take it at work.  Then I zone out.  

Even sleeping pills are no match for me.  Roughly half of the time a sleeping pill will put me to sleep, only for me to wake up in five or six hours, with a rocking headache.  The other half of the time I will lay in bed until the sun comes up, or at least until I can't stand being alone with my own thoughts any more.  Pretty much a lose-lose scenario.

I guess the one good thing about lying in bed wide awake all night is I at least get ideas for posts.

A story from long ago

I read This Daddy's post about pain medicine, and couldn't help but think back to my own experience.  I thought I'd share it here as it, in my opinion, is a pretty good story. 

CHIIIEEEFFF!!!

I had back surgery over ten years ago.  The surgery itself was supposed to leave a scar the size of an eraser you would find on the end of a pencil.  It ended up being the length of an eraser you would use on a chalkboard since they had to cut through (and subsequently reattach) the muscles in my back to completely fix everything.  As it turned out, the surgery was not as "simple" as the surgeon originally thought; he found more damage in need of repair once he got me opened up.

When I got home, after a brief 23 hour visit to the hospital for the procedure, I had Vicodin and muscle relaxers waiting for me.  Even with the medicine I was in pretty bad pain.  I couldn't lay down, because I couldn't get back up on my own.  I didn't realize this, unfortunately, until the middle of the night when I had to visit the little boy's room.  I made it, but just barely, and it really hurt.  Let me clarify - getting to the bathroom hurt, not the act of pottying.

For the next few days, I lived in a recliner.

On the second day after surgery, I ate a little breakfast, popped my pills, and settled back in my throne to watch Sportscenter.  For those of you that aren't familiar with ESPN's lineup back then, they basically replayed Sportscenter every hour from 6 AM to noon, and then would loop a new one from 4 PM to 6 PM.

On this particular day I started watching Sportscenter at 7 AM.  I planned to watch just one episode and then put in a movie.  All I remember from that day is watching the first half of the 7 AM show and the second half of the 5 PM show.  The rest of the day was gobbled up by the pills.  At some point I did take my next dose of medicine, but I can't say that I recall doing it. 

That concerned me a little - especially when I saw that I had made a few phone calls, returned some emails to clients, cooked myself a pizza, ate the pizza, and left the oven on.  I also, apparently, had a beer or three with lunch.

That night I was watching a basketball game with my wife.  Florida State was playing somebody.  In the middle of the first half my wife asked me a question.  In the middle of the second half I realized someone was lecturing me on the culture of numerous American Indian tribes.

As I sat there watching the game, listening to this idiot ramble on with no apparent end in sight or real point to be made, I realized I knew some of what he was saying to be true, but most of it sounded as though he was making it up on the spot. 

I checked the TV to make sure I wasn't hearing one program and watching another.  As I turned the channel to something else, the guy kept talking.  I turned off the TV, and all the stereo components and still this guy spoke.

I went to the bathroom and this guy went with me.  He was talking right behind me the whole time.  How was this happening?  The bathroom was a half bath, with no room for two people, yet even with the door shut I could hear him plain as day. 

I didn't see anyone.

It was truly bizarre.

As I returned to the living room he came with me.  I started to argue a point with him and then it hit me.  I asked my wife one question:

"How long have I been talking about Indians?" 

"Since I asked you if you cared who won this game - about 45 minutes ago" she replied.

Even thought the pain was great, I decided to quit taking the Vicodin/muscle relaxer combination.

It was kinda like what John went through.

Can you blame me?

Did I just say that?

At some point in my life I became too inflexible to actually put my foot in  my mouth literally, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of doing it figuratively. 

 

My filter doesn't always work the way it probably should.  If I'm being honest, my filter is either turned off most of the time or broken entirely. 

I'm really not trying to be rude or hurtful, but occasionally quite often my sense of humor is not shared by others. 

Other times, something I am innocently saying can be construed as mean.

I caught myself the other night on this second point.  Brynne was sitting in Mama's lap reading a book and Hadley REALLY wanted to do the same.  I told Hadley to climb on up as there was plenty of room for the both of them.

Julia didn't hear this, I don't think, and if she did she didn't take it as an insult to her.  It was obviously not meant to be one, but I understand how it could be seen as taking a shot at her.  She knew what I meant, but she may be in the minority when it comes to understanding how my brain works. 

The benefit of writing is that I have a chance to edit what I want to say.  I type, save, leave, revisit, amend, and publish.

The other benefit of writing and not immediately publishing is the ability to have my better half review my work to ensure my message comes across as intended. 

It's easy to undo something before it goes public.  Trying to backtrack and clean up the mess is another story.  Once it's out there, it's out there forever.  Whether you speak it or publish it, if one person sees or hears it, the damage is done.

So true

Special note - There is no one event that triggered this post, so I'm not trying to make amends for a specific statement I've made.  I'm just doing my duty and making a public service announcement.

I won the lottery!

I was informed a month or so ago I had been selected to jury duty.  I had been selected four times in the last ten years, but each time I was self-employed, so I was excused from serving. 

Not that I'm against doing my civic duty, but when you work on commission any day out of the office is just like an unpaid vacation.  I'd write a letter stating I was self-employed and would subsequently be told that I didn't need to serve.

This time was different.  I'm no longer self-employed so I informed my employer and prepared for my day in court.

There were a couple of surprises in store for me on January 5th, the day I reported.

Surprise 1 - No phones with cameras allowed in the courtroom

The sheriff had just enacted a new "law" for the building on the first of the year and managed to NOT alert anyone that he was doing it.  Therefore, each and every potential juror showed up with a phone in either their pocket or their purse.  As the 50 of us that were called to jury duty went through the security checkpoint, each and every person had to return to their car and leave their cell phone behind. 

The Jitterbug is the only phone produced in the last ten years without a camera.

One guy informed the sheriff he rode the bus and had nowhere to put his phone.  The sheriff's wonderful reply was:

Find someone with a car and leave it there.

Since I was the only person in line behind the guy, can you guess who he asked?  I had no problem with it, but I asked him what we would do if one of us had to stay and the other was allowed to leave.  Neither of us had an answer, but since he had no other option, he put the phone in my car and we went back in. 

It's a nice phone.  I was in the market for a new one, so it'll come in handy as soon as I get my contacts switched over.  Hopefully, with the money he's saving on gas by riding the bus, he'll be able to get a new phone soon.  And once I switch the number out I imagine he'll be forced to stop calling and leaving those annoying "Can I get my phone back?" messages on his old phone.

Surprise 2 - It was Grand Jury duty, not just regular jury duty

What is the difference?  I was asking the same thing. 

Regular jury duty requires you to show up and serve, if selected, on one case until the jury determines if the accused is innocent or guilty.  Typically, this lasts three or four days. 

Grand Jury duty means you will hear cases every Thursday for four months.  You are not deciding guilt or innocence.  Rather, you are determining if there is enough evidence to take the case to trial.

16 weeks of service.  That means 16 full days out of the office.  Sounds wonderful, but what it actually means is for the next 16 weeks I would be doing five days worth of work in just four days.

Google apparently thought this was what I had in mind when I searched for grand jury images.

Surprise 3 - I wasn't picked

You might be wondering why that is a surprise.  As I sat there without access to the outside world, I could only imagine the number of emails and voicemails piling up.  My mind tends to race to the worst case scenario, so I could see myself every Friday for the next four months holed up in my office playing catch up.  I just knew I would be called.

It would have been interesting to hear the cases, and I would have served willingly, but I have to admit I was relieved not to have to do so.

Luckily (for the guy who stashed his phone in my car) he wasn't picked either.  I tried to race to the car and leave with my new phone, but he was waiting for me when I arrived.

No grand jury duty.  No new phone.

At least I had the rest of the day to hang out with my ladies.