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.

Never think you've seen it all

There comes a time in every man's life when he sees something that totally amazes him.  Unfortunately, that seems to happen to me a lot.  The good news is I get a blog topic.  The bad news is it stays with me.

As of today, after a wonderful experience, I am officially done visiting the Burger King in Brentwood, Missouri.  Every place is going to mess up an order now and again. Charging for cheese and not adding it.  Forgetting to include something with the order.  I can accept that.  But not what happened today.

Once a month or so I run to Trader Joe's during my lunch break to pick up some items we need.  Typically on those runs, I swing into Burger King and get a fish sandwich.  This is about the only time I actually eat fast food, so they won't miss my business that much. 

As I pulled into the parking lot I saw a gentleman working on his car.  He was wrapping up as I walked past.  Had I stopped to talk with him, I probably could've gotten a nice second hand high from the joint he was smoking.


Perhaps the King encourages this after all.

Yep.  Standing in the parking lot next to a very busy road and smoking a joint.  Almost every time I stop in there is a cop in the parking lot, but fortunately for him, not today.  This guy was either full of confidence or lacking in intelligence.  Oh well.

I proceed inside.  At the counter I place my order.  Mr. Mechanic comes inside and then walks behind the counter. 

He heads back to the cooking area.  Next he takes off his jacket, looks up at a screen, and starts making a sandwich.  The sandwich is wrapped and tossed in a bag.  A small order of fries goes on top of the sandwich.  Napkins are thrown in next.  I'm looking for a person with a manager tag to say something to.  Finally I see one.  She grabs the bag and carries it toward the counter.  I'm just getting ready to say something to her as this guy went straight from working on his car to making a sandwich WITHOUT WASHING HIS HANDS!

"Need any general dentistry done while I'm at it?"

Before I can say anything, she says:

"Would you like any ketchup with your order?"

He made MY sandwich.  MY sandwich will be infused with the alluring combination of weed, oil, grease, and fish.

I informed her I would like a different sandwich.  Puzzled, and a bit angry it would seem, she asks why.  I tell her the gentleman who just made MY sandwich came in from working on his car to make said sandwich and never washed his hands. 

She drops the bag in the trash and yells back

"Remake that last fish sandwich order!"

Mr. Mechanic grabs another bun, and reaches for the fish.

I tell THE MANAGER if the same guy makes that sandwich without washing his hands or putting some gloves on at least I'm just going to ask for another one as I don't think that's very sanitary.

Maybe she was just an assistant manager, or something else, but I actually expected her to do something more.

She hollers back at someone with a name I didn't understand and tells him he needs to make the sandwich.  Mr. Whatshisname takes the sandwich out of Mr. Mechanic's hands and goes to put the finishing touches on it.

"Excuse me," I say,  "Ms. Manager, I don't want to be a pain, but I also don't want to eat contaminated food. Can you just have the second guy make a whole new sandwich since the first guy already got that sandwich dirty too?"

"MR. WHATSHISNAME, MAKE ANOOOTHER FISH SANDWICH." was what she said to him without taking her eyes off of me.

 

Clearly, I was in the wrong to ask her for a new sandwich and she made sure I knew (by the tone of her voice, the arms folded across her chest, and the contorted face she made) how horrible of a person I was. 

 

He made it and wrapped it.  She brought it to me, dumped it on the counter (just the sandwich, not even in a bag), and started to walk away.

"What about my fries?"

I half expected her to grab the bag out of the trash, but she didn't.  Instead, she yelled at some other poor employee, Miss Whatshername, to finish my order. 

Miss Whatshername was very nice.  Finished the order, asked if I wanted any ketchup or anything, and apologized for what just happened.  She even offered me a free desert if I wanted it.

As I walked away, I heard the person in line behind me say

"Ummm, the second fish sandwich he made was just put in a bag and it looks like it's going to be served to someone in the drive thru.  Also, the guy that still hasn't washed his hands just made my sandwich too.  I'd like another one."

I wanted to break into a little EMF right then and there.   

For the sake of anyone else who had to deal with her later in the day, I hope the manager lady went out to Mr. Mechanic's car and took a few hits from the joint herself.

Local Toy Store "Saved"

This post is going to rub some people the wrong way, locally at least, but that's okay.  If you're not from around here, this may not mean much, but it might still be educational. 

Let me just start by saying our family does shop at the toy store, and we do love it.  This is not an attack on the owners, or people who donated to the store, or anything like that.  I have no affiliation with the bank (I don't even know which one it is) or the store.  It is just an observation, and perhaps a little education for those who don't have any experience in the business world.  I certainly don't have any inside information on this, I'm just going by what I've read/heard from other people and the owners.  I intentionally waited until the campaign was either successful or time expired on it before posting this so as to not sway anyone away from contributing.  If you made a gift based on your desire to see the store remain open, then that's great, I'm not making any judgments - Mama donated.  If you made a gift because you thought you were helping fight some sort of injustice, I'm sorry I didn't post this earlier for you, but now you know, and...

The first time I read anything about the store having to close its doors was when I read a Facebook post by a friend.  The post (paraphrased) said the big bad bank is forcing this business to close by calling their loan five years before it's due. 

Then I saw a flier posted which said "The bank has called our loan and wants their money now" (I can only assume the use of the word "our" attributes this quote to an owner) and "We all love these stores and find it appalling that a bank is calling their loan 5 years before its up!".

Call me crazy, but I don't think it's appalling.  If I lend my car to a friend for the week, is it appalling that I want (or need) it back after three days?  No.  It's my car, not theirs.  They are just borrowing it.  Even if we have a contract where the friend is paying me to use the car, there are things my friend could do to breach the contract and allow me to legally get my car back, such as failing to pay me.

So let's start here.  Banks do not operate in the "Not For Profit" arena.  They are owned by investors who expect some sort of return on their money, or at the very least the return of their money.  Some are publicly traded while others are privately owned.  Regardless of that, the bank and the Board of Directors have a duty to the investors first and foremost, not to their customers.

As noted by the owner in the above statement, "The bank...wants their money".  Yes, it is their money, and if the risk they are taking is not worth the reward, they have every right to call the loan.  The bank loaned them the money at a point when the risk they were expecting to take was justified by the return on the investment, but things don't always go according to plan.  The bank also could simply have underestimated the risk and made a loan they shouldn't have.  They screwed up, so they're trying to make the best of a bad situation.  Who knows?   

It's capitalism.

Maybe they don't want to call it, but are being forced to.  Bank regulators can put pressure on banks to raise capital and reduce the risk of their portfolios if they believe the bank itself is struggling or could be exposed to more risk than they should be.  This could result from bad loans, a bad economy, or just bad luck.  Whatever the reason, they can't reduce their risk by calling the loan of someone who has made all their payments and is running a financially viable business.   

If a bank looks at the underlying financials of the business it lent money to, and sees only losses and other debts, they may call the loan to force the business to liquidate assets and repay them what they can.  If the business files bankruptcy, the entire debt may be forgiven and the bank loses.  From the bank's perspective, getting 40% of what they are owed is better than nothing.

Again, I don't know if that is the case here or not, but I think it is.  On the fundraising page, this quote is posted right under the update which shows $21,023 has been raised: 

"If $75k is raised, the plan is to use a large chunk of those funds to satisfy the bank.  The remaining funds would be used to pay toy vendors who are eager for their money". 

Obviously, there are many creditors here, not just the bank.

In summary, I think it's great that the community pulled together to save a struggling business they love.  It would appear from the rest of the quote on the fundraising page that the owners are doing what they can to stay afloat and are not the ones who initially started the campaign, and I applaud them for their efforts.  Other local businesses got involved and either did matching gifts or offered to donate a percentage of their profits for the day. 

SIDEBAR - What a great move on their part!  It's a great way to bring in income for their business that they may not have otherwise had and build goodwill in the community, but if someone really wanted to give to the fundraising efforts, it would've been more effective to give 100% directly instead of 10% of profits.  Why?  Simple.  If the company making the 10% of profits gift only operates at a profitability margin of 20%, spending $100 at their business puts $20 in their pocket and of that, $2 goes to the campaign.       

You have to wonder, though, if the business can't get a loan from any other bank, and hasn't been able to raise private equity from any investor, how viable is the business?  And next year are we going to see the Second Annual Save the Toy Store campaign?


Comment as you see fit.  I won't edit or delete anything unless you're inappropriate or vulgar.  Anonymous posts will be deleted, no matter their content, so if you have something to say, make sure you claim it.

One of God's greatest gifts

I realize some of you are finishing the title statement as Garth Brooks would have, by saying:

"is unanswered prayers".

That may be true, but I have another way to finish that statement for you to ponder:

"is death".

Let me explain.

I have never dealt well with death.  Every single time I go to a visitation, whether it was for my grandma, great-grandma, or even just to support a friend who lost a loved one, I bawl my eyes out.  Even when I just hear about someone losing a loved one it chokes me up.

I put myself through the emotional wringer by reminding myself: I'll never see her again; she'll never get to see my kids grow up; he has no more time with his father; we didn't have the chance to talk about _____; I'll never get to hear the wealth of knowledge and history she has; and so on.

My last living grandparent passed away early this morning after a battle with cancer.  Last year it claimed her leg.  Last week, we were planning a date a few weeks out to take the girls to see her one last time as we were told she only had months to live. 

Yesterday morning, plans were changed, and I was trying to find a day in the next few weeks to go as her prognosis changed to having a few weeks left.  Yesterday afternoon, when that time frame dropped to days, I was looking to find a time this weekend to drive up.  Last night, we were informed she had only hours left, if that. 

As I lay in bed around 12:15 I was praying for God to end her suffering and bring her to Him.  Fifteen minutes later, she passed peacefully with my own mother at her side.

As much as it hurts me to know she is gone, I will gladly take that answered prayer.  Her pain is gone and I should celebrate that.  Her suffering is gone and I should celebrate that.  She is reunited with the Lord and I should celebrate that.  For the rest of time, she will never know pain or sorrow, only joy and celebration, and I should celebrate that.

So back to the whole thing about death being a gift.  God gave us the gift of death so we can be reunited with Him.  If it weren't for death, we'd suffer an eternity away from Him.  The pain of death is only for those who live.  The joy of death is for those who pass.

One more time:  God gave us the gift of death so we can be reunited with Him.

We should be celebrating her life and the life of Christ.  He died so that we may live.  He defeated death, so that we may be with the Lord forever.

It is difficult to praise the Lord when things don't go your way, but it's at these times we need to do exactly that.  We need to pray that the Lord will use the bad times in our lives to bring us, and others, closer to Him. 

We need death.

We need it not only to reunite us with our Lord, but to remind us to reach out to those we care the most about and ensure they are trusting in Jesus for their salvation.  We need death to spread the gospel.  We need it to remind us there is nothing on this earth that will fill the void in our hearts except for God.

We need death.

I'm still sad.  I'm still crying and thinking about her.  This time, however, instead of tears of sorrow I have tears of joy (mostly).  I know I might still be a mess at the visitation and burial, but I also know the Lord will be with me and help me get through it. 

Rest in peace grandma.  We miss you.  We love you.  We celebrate your life.  We praise God.

What would Jesus do and what would I do?

So I came across an article about a father who caught another male (I can't bring myself to call the attacker of a four year old a man, so I'll go with male) sexually assaulting his four year old daughter.  The father struck him in the head until he stopped.  The attacker died.  You can read the full story here.

The main question surrounding this now is whether or not the father will be charged with a crime.

I pray I'm never in this situation, but I also wonder what I would do if I were. 

I'm not a violent person, but I am protective.  Whether it's myself, my property, my family, or anything else I'm strongly attached to, I will defend it.  I also don't have a short fuse.  It takes a lot to get me fired up, but even then, I'm more likely to talk through something than take to physical altercations.

Speaking as a man trying (and failing every day) to follow the path of Christ, I'd like to think I'd have the self control to put an end to the situation without putting an end to the male's life.

Speaking as the sinful man I am, I imagine I would act as judge and executioner in a very short period of time.

Obviously, in the heat of the moment you don't have time to think about all the negative consequences of your actions.   

I'm sure he wasn't thinking about the possibility of his daughter growing up without him as he spent time in jail. 

I'm sure he wasn't thinking about the regret he would be carrying around with him for the rest of his life, knowing he took another life.

I'm sure he wasn't thinking about what impact his actions would have on those people in the attacker's life.

I'm sure he wasn't thinking about any of that as he saw his daughter being attacked.

In fact, I'm almost certain he stopped thinking about anything as the urge to protect his daughter became the only thing on his mind.

Even now, I don't know if it does any good to think about it and what I may or may not do.  You can think about every possible scenario and outcome that may happen to you in life, but when it comes down to it, there are some things you can't practice or prepare for.

For the guys out there, what do you think you'd do?

For everyone, should the father be charged with a crime?

How old is too old...

A little while back the girls were at a play thing with lots of other children.  They were both standing there, looking in the same direction.  As I followed their gaze, I noticed a little boy hanging out.  By "hanging out", I mean he was standing there with his little boy junk dangling in the breeze for all to see.

I quickly called their names.  They came to me without hesitation and I continued to distract them until little Freddie's twig and berries were tucked safely away.

As the girls get older, I am finding myself wondering more and more often "when are they too old _____?"

A few examples for the fill in the blank section:

to be in the bathroom when I an using the facilities?  Just to clarify, I don't let them in there with me now, and haven't since they became mobile, but it's still a valid question in my opinion.

to have Papa help with bathtime? 

to have Papa help them in the bathroom, assuming they get out of diapers at some point?

to have Papa help them get dressed?

I really have no idea as to the right answer.  Do they magically become aware, at some point, of the differences between Papas and Mamas?  Any advice from mothers and fathers out there?

Mighty neighborly of ya!

Before you read the details I am about to provide, please hop over to my wife's blog and get the high level summary.  My post won't make any sense until you do that.

Ready?  OK!

When the 14 year old cop showed up and was very short with us, I gave him some lip back.  I'm not ordinarily like this with authority figures, but this guy was being a bit of a douchebag, pardon my language.

Isn't it past your bedtime?

He informed us he had been in the neighborhood for 10 or 15 minutes and that he hadn't heard the dogs much.  That was, until he parked in front of our house and came up to the door.  Then they were loud.  I politely explained the reason they were barking is because a stranger was coming to our door.  Isn't that what dogs do???

He had no answer for that, so I pushed on. 

I asked who called the police?  He wouldn't tell me.  Not couldn't tell me, but wouldn't.  I informed him, politely, that in case he missed the day in school where they talked about the Bill of Rights (or perhaps hadn't made it that far in school yet),  I have the right to face my accuser.  He said he wouldn't tell me who it was.  I asked again, since it is my right. He informed me that he would not be telling me who it was, but if I wanted to go to the police department next week I was free to do that.

After I was ignored when I asked again why he wouldn't tell me the name since it was my right, he proceeded to threaten me.  I was told if he received one more call tonight he would send us a ticket for an excessive dog barking violation. 

I could see this would not go anywhere with him, so I shut the door and brought the dogs into the garage, where they had to stay in their cages houses for a few hours.  Just for giggles, I checked the law.  It is possible to get a ticket for excessive barking, based on a nuisance clause.  There is not a definition of what qualifies for a nuisance, so I can only assume that if one person calls the police twice in a night that is enough.  It doesn't seem to matter that you've lived somewhere for five years, always had dogs, and never received so much as a complaint.  It also doesn't matter that no other neighbor has a problem with our dogs.  This was 7 PM - not 2 AM.

As we left for dinner, I stopped in at the neighbor that I thought was responsible.  They had not called the cops.  She hadn't even heard the dogs, and went a step farther in saying that even if they had been barking it would have been because her cat runs free and constantly antagonizes the dogs.  Also, she had seen the police next door, so I marched on over.

The lady answered the door on my third knock, and here is the conversation - pretty much word for word:

Me:  Hi, I'm Brad, I live behind you and you just called the cops on me because you said my dogs were barking too much.  I am sorry they bothered you, but going forward, if you ever have an issue with them I would appreciate it if you would just come to my door and let me know.  I'll take care of it without having to call the cops away from other more pressing duties.

I was polite.  I was apologetic.  I thought it was done.  I was wrong.

Her:  Your dogs have been outside for two hours and it's too cold out.

Me (a little stunned):  So the barking wasn't the issue?  Why wouldn't you have just come to me and said something?  My dogs love being outside and I can assure you if there was the slightest chance they were too cold I would have brought them in.

Her:  You have them tied to a tree, in this cold weather.  I just didn't want to see any more graves in your backyard.

At this point her husband joined her at the door.

Me:  My dogs are on a 30 foot dog run with a ten foot lead.  That gives them plenty of room to run around and exercise.  As for the graves, what are you talking about?

Her:  I can see those little white crosses in your backyard.  I'd never let my dogs out when it's this cold.

While it might have made me feel better, it wouldn't have helped.

Me (trying not to laugh in her face):  First off, those crosses aren't in my backyard - they are on my neighbor's property.  Second, those little crosses have the words "tomatoes", "cucumbers", and "peppers" written on them - I don't name my dogs after fruits and vegetables.  They are in a raised garden which is full of vegetables.  Finally, I appreciate your concern for my dogs, but since you don't know anything about them, what you would or would not do is not relevant. 

I don't think she knows the meaning of relevant and I probably should have used smaller words for her, but oh well.

Her, to her husband:  Don't you think it's too cold for dogs to be outside.

Her husband shrugs.

I introduce myself to him again, shake his hand, and ask him to please call me before calling the cops next time they have an issue with me.  I wanted to say "next time you think you know more about running my affairs than I do", but I'm pretty sure he had no idea she called the cops as he was not defending her or even supporting her, so I chose not to escalate this.

I can't wait for their dog to get out of their fenced-in yard again this summer as he is prone to do.  We'll still put it on our dog run, give it water on a 100 degree day, and return it to them when they get home as we've done in the past.  As much as I'd like to call animal control just to throw it in her face, I won't.  That would neither be the neighborly nor the Christian thing to do. 

I think I might still inform her that it is too hot for a dog to be running loose and that I'd never do that to my dogs - I guess we'll see. 

Maybe I'll put a gravestone in their front yard some night.

Battle of the Birds

Ever hear about an athlete claiming he or she doesn't consider himself or herself a role model?  That they shouldn't be looked up to by kids just because of how they earn their money or because they're in the public eye? 

Ever hear a parent say they aren't a role model?

Ever see a parent doing something and want to go smack the tar out of them for those actions?

Today just happened to be a day when I got to experience that.  Not once, but thrice, in a matter of minutes.

Situation 1 - On the way to work, the car in front of me (and one lane over to the right) starts drifting into my lane.  There's a healthy gap between us, so I'm not too concerned.  There is also a driver in front of me in the lane to my left.  He starts drifting into my lane as well. 

I back off a bit as these two cars are moving to occupy the same spot and I don't want to hit them if they end up colliding.

I'm not sure if they see each other so I honk, just to get their attention.  Both of them immediately swerve back into their lanes.  I can then see the driver on the left screaming like a fool while flipping the bird to the other driver. 

The other driver responds by rolling his window down, extending his arm, and returning the greeting - accompanied by what I can only assume to be gracious words of encouragement.  I'm sure he wanted to make sure the first driver knew how much he wanted him to have a pleasant day.

They speed up and slow down, trying to cut each other off - nearly wrecking several times.  I decided at this point I've seen enough so I speed up to get away from them.  As I approach the cars I notice that each of them has the same bumper sticker.

You can't make this stuff up.

As I pass the cars, I also notice each of them has additional passengers in their back seats.  Sitting there quietly, strapped into their car seats, are a couple of little children.  Soaking up everything.

I try not to judge the drivers.  I try not to think bad thoughts about them.  It's not easy.

Situation 2 - Not five minutes later I am passing another car.  The windows are rolled up, there is cigarette smoke filling the car, and again, there is another little child sitting in a car seat in the back.

At least this window is down, I guess.

I wanted to call the cops and report child endangerment, but I'm not even sure it's illegal to smoke with a child in the car.  Ridiculously stupid and irresponsible?  Yes.  Illegal?  Perhaps it should be if it isn't already.

Situation 3 - A few minutes pass and I'm getting off the interstate.  The car in front of me on the ramp is full of activity.  It's in the lane to exit left and I am going right.  As I pass this car I notice four children in the backseat of a Corolla.  I'm not so good with ages of other children, but I can't imagine any of them are older than five.

Not street legal.

None of them are in a car seat. 

None of them are even buckled in.

The driver is putting on makeup and appears to be singing along with the radio.  Either that or she's yelling at the kids.

It makes me sad to think about all three of these situations.  Sad for the children that they would be raised to think this is normal behavior.  Sad for the parents that they would think this is acceptable behavior. 

I know it's not my place to tell others how to raise their kids.  Everyone has their own methods and I respect that.  I only respect that, however, until it becomes an issue of child endangerment. 

I really wish I'd written down all of their license plates and passed them on to the proper authorities, but I didn't.

The question is:  Should I have done that?  Thoughts?

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.

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.

Father of the Year? Nope

Have you ever had one of those days, or a string of those days, where you just didn't feel like yourself? 

It could have been caused by any number of reasons.  Maybe you weren't getting enough sleep.  Maybe you had too much going on to where you couldn't relax.  Maybe you were just in a funk and thought things that didn't go your way should have.

I've recently been in one of those ruts for all of those reasons.

That's me, wallowing in self pity in my hole/rut.

It's not easy to get out of that.  For me, it was just getting worse.  My self-perceived hole was getting deeper.

I was exhausted.  My girls and I were playing and I knew I was being short with them.  I was trying to get them to entertain themselves so I wouldn't have to read the same blasted book for the umpteenth time (yes, I just used the words blasted and umpteenth in the same sentence). 

They clearly were not in any mood to be pushed away.  My doing so only made things worse.  If I wanted to maintain any level of sanity I needed them to stop throwing a fit.  So I read the book.  Every time I finished it, they would both give me the sign.  Again. 

Again, and again, and again.

I was fighting the urge to push them off of me and run for cover.  At one point, I may even have stood them up and told them to leave me alone for a few minutes.  I didn't think they'd understand what I meant, but they did. 

Brynne clinched her jaw as she fought back the urge to scream, shook her head violently back and forth in anger/frustration, and just stood there glaring at me. 

Hadley looked at me with those big, beautiful, blue eyes of hers welling up with tears.  She then told me "no".

How can you say "no" to this face?

That made me feel like a big bag of shit.

It also brought me out of my funk - at least for a little bit.

All my daughters wanted to do was: sit in my lap; turn the pages of one of their favorite books; point out the animals they knew while either making the appropriate sign or animal sound; hear my voice read the words they couldn't; and acknowledge/praise them for how much they knew and could do.

As I look back on the whole event, I still don't know if they were being selfish, too, or just wanting to hang out with their dear old Papa.  At one point I caught Hadley just looking at me.  Brynne was still turning/ripping pages and pointing out everything on the page while I recited the words.  Hadley was just sitting there with her head cocked so she could look up and back at me -  just staring at me.  If she could fully express herself, I imagine she would have asked me if I was okay now.

That might have made me cry a little.  Actually, it made me cry a lot. 

I don't know how long I sat and stared at her beautiful little face with tears running down my own, but it was long enough for Brynne to finish the book and hop up to get another one.  She got the book, gave me a pat on the back, plopped back down in my lap, looked up at me, and gave me a huge smile.  That broke the trance, and soon both girls were fighting over who got to turn the pages of the new (finally!) book.

And I was crying again. 

In the end, it doesn't matter if they were being selfish or not.  This is what matters:  my words and actions caused them to feel rejected. 

Try that one on for size.  I rejected my daughters when all they wanted was quality time with me.

How long will they want me to read to them?  When will I be the one asking to spend time with them, only to be told no, and to then feel rejected myself?  Why did I allow my frustrations with everything else in the world to impact our time together?

I don't know the answers to any of those questions.

Any advice as to how to either avoid the rut or get out once inside it (other than drugs and alcohol)?

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.

Height and development are not related

As I may have mentioned, at one point or another, our girls are slightly taller than the average less-than-two- year-old child.  By slightly, I mean about half a head taller, give or take.

Brynne with cousin that's five months younger.



Hadley with her cousin that's 10 months younger.



I know they are tall, but since I am around them more than I am around any other children, I forget that you can't always guess a child's age based on their height.  If you do this, it can cause issues.

As an example, let's look at the nursery at church. 

Our girls go to the toddler class, which is, roughly, 18 to 36 months of age.  If that class is a little crowded, and the 36 to 50 month class is not, a child can be moved from the younger class to the older one (after parental consent is obtained).  Our girls, at 23 months, are way less developed than the three to five year old children in the class ahead of them.  By lining them up, and moving the tallest, you would do our girls a huge disservice.

Four year old + cup of water = hydrated child

23 month old + cup of water = wet child, wet clothes, wet table, wet carpet

That's just one example.  Here's another:

The four year olds can, for the most part, communicate with others.  Sure, they have language patterns that can be tough to discern, but you can get the gist of what they're saying, as can other four year olds.  The 23 month olds are limited to what they can express, and so frustration (screaming, tantrums, and tears) can ensue.  Not only between child and adult, but between children.

Not convinced?  Here's my final example.

Four year olds should be stronger than 23 month olds, and can, therefore, take what they want by force.  Even if they're not trying to be mean, they still are dominant.  They might both be going for the same toy.  If the four year old accidentally bumps the younger child, he (or she) is going down.  Now, we're talking real tears and screaming.

This may serve more as a reminder for myself than as education to anyone else, but it may help someone.  If at all possible, ask the parent for the child's age before making that assumption.  This is especially helpful if you're looking for an age appropriate toy to give to a child.

Big business takes on small business - and loses horribly

The bigger a company gets the more inefficient it becomes.  I suppose you could say the same thing about a government, but since they are basically just huge companies I guess I just did.

When you have this many cogs you don't even need a wrench.

Case in point - my dealings with Nissan.

I already posted about the car having a defect that caused it to be sidelined.  Here are the details:

September 16th - The brakes went out.  The car then went to my mechanic where the problem was identified.  He told me this was not fixable and I should plan on selling the car for scrap.

September 19th - The Nissan dealership has the car towed from my mechanic to their lot so they can perform the necessary repairs at their expense.  They informed me that they would work to fix it and should have it back to me by the end of the week.

September 26th - I have heard nothing so I call them to get a status update.  The damage was a little worse than they thought so the repair won't be done until the end of this week.

October 3rd - Again, no word.  I call back in to find out the car may not be fixable.  They'll have someone from Nissan call me to discuss the problem in the next 24-48 hours.

October 14th - Apparently, in Nissan's world, 48 hours is the amount of time it takes for the sun to rise and set 11 times.  At least they did call, I guess.  Now, they tell me that a Nissan specialist has to go see the car to determine if it can be fixed or not.  They should get his report in a week and will call me when they have it.

November 8th - Nobody at Nissan owns a calendar.  I guess they bought the Microsoft package that didn't come with Outlook.  I finally got my call almost two weeks late.  The car cannot be fixed.  They need me to send them a bunch of information and then they'll call me a day or so after they have it to discuss their offer to buy the car back.

November 9th - I send them everything they need, and then some.

November 22nd - I forgot about the time-space continuum difficulties they have, so I actually expected them to call sooner.  Shame on me.  They finally call me with an offer - another two weeks later than expected.  They'll email me the terms today and once I sign the acceptance and send it back they'll let me know within  a week what the next step is.

November 23rd - Their email came through, was signed, and returned promptly.

December 7th  - They called back to schedule an appointment to get our check and return their car.

December 15th - Everything is done.  Just one day short of three months.

Let's take a quick look at the numbers.

My mechanic told me in 15 minutes the car was not fixable.  His cost was nearly $60, and he only charged me something because I told him Nissan would be picking up the cost.

Nissan took nine weeks (90,705 minutes more than my mechanic) to tell me the car was not fixable.  They paid for my mechanic's expense, a rental car for me for twelve weeks, all of their own mechanic's time, the bill from the body shop that tried to fix the problem for them initially, and their specialist's time (and presumable travel costs to and from the area since he was not a local guy).

I could've watched this movie 840 times between when my mechanic diagnosed the car and Nissan did.  Coincidentally, Nissan must have been involved in the making of the movie because the runtime is actually 108 minutes, not 88.

 Seems like quite a waste of time and money.  Either that, or I have the best mechanic in the world.

The power of the media or standard operating procedures?

A friend of mine, and his wife had to take their young daughter to the ER a few weeks ago, because she had an issue "down there".  They were given the "third degree" about what happened. 

It wasn't quite like this

Was it just the father present, the mother, both, or someone else when this happened?

Have they had any visitors recently?


Does she go to daycare?


Are there any male siblings?


Are there any female siblings that have had the same or similar experience?

He anticipated these questions due to the nature of the injury.  He did not anticipate being asked them repeatedly in different forms to see if his story remained the same. 

Don't get me wrong, neither he, nor I, were upset that these questions were asked.  We both agreed that the ER staff was totally justified in asking them to ensure it was truly an accident, and not an indicator of something more. 

What we wondered was this:

Are these questions being asked more often lately due to the publicity from the Syracuse and Penn State debacles? Or have they always been asked like this?

Neither of us have any experience with this, so I thought I'd post the question here and see if there are any of you who have been down this road or just have thoughts about it. 

Does the media sway the medical communities' actions?

I'd love to get your thoughts on these two questions.

'Tis the season

What a way to start the month!  Here's how the morning of December 1st went for me.

3:00 AM - Laying in bed - still awake.  Don't know why I can't sleep, but I can't.  I decide an extra hour of sleep is more important than getting up at 5 AM to work out, so I turn off the alarm.

Soooo sleeeepy

6:15 AM - I'm awake.  Not just awake, but wide awake.  Mama has left to workout, the house is silent, yet I'm awake.  I get up and take the dogs out.  Like an idiot, I forget it's December so I only have a t-shirt and sweats on.  It is freezing outside and each dog decides to take longer than ever to do their business.

6:45 AM - Not only am I freezing, I am also starving.  Going to make breakfast or get a glass of milk, but I can't eat or drink anything since I have to fast for my annual blood work.

7:10 AM - The girls wake up and appear to have their eye infections back.  I wrestle with each of them for a bit to clean out the eye boogers, wipe their noses, and put in their eye drops.  I am now the bad guy and both of them scream if I come near them.  They run to Mama and I don't get my usual hugs and kisses before I head out the door.  Awesome.

7:25 AM - My new phone is giving me fits.  I'm trying to call someone, but their number is not showing up in my contact list.  I have to switch to a different contact list.  I still don't see it.  They are a Facebook friend, though, so I hit the little icon to see if the number is listed there. 

As I'm doing this, apparently, I swerve slightly over the center line - and a cop is behind me.  He turns on his lights and pulls me over.  I'm less than a mile from home.  I set my phone down to get my license and registration ready, as well as to find the paperwork that proves the car is a loaner from Nissan.

Cop - Why are you driving erratically?

Me - I was trying to call a friend and couldn't find his number.

Cop - Can you show me your phone?

Me - Sure. 

I turn the screen of the phone on only to learn that hitting the little icon doesn't pull up any data, it takes me to Facebook.

Cop sees Facebook on the phone and decides to write me a ticket.  I hit the back key to show him that I was on my contacts and didn't mean to log on to Facebook. 

Cop - Either you're getting a ticket for using an electronic device while driving or for improper lane usage.  They're the same cost, so I'll just give you the electronic one.

Me - I had a burning desire to ask why he felt like being an enormous piece of crap this morning, but I wisely kept my mouth shut.  After all, he was just doing his job and while I was looking to blame someone other than myself, I was the one who messed up.

As an aside, I do use my phone for non-phone purposes (navigation system, Pandora, checking e-mail, etc.) while driving so I guess I've earned this one over the years.  It just sucks that I got it at a time when I truly was not breaking the law.

8:10 AM - My loaner car goes from telling me I have 60 miles left to drive before running out of gas to ---.  I'm on the interstate and no gas stations are close.  For the next four miles I am waiting for the car to shut down.  It finally does.  Fortunately, I am coasting into the gas station as the gas tank goes completely dry.

So helpful

8:25 AM - I get to the office just in time for my annual wellness exam.  The nurse is taking my blood pressure and expresses concern over a 148/98 reading.  I tell her about my morning so far and she recommends I come back a bit later to retest. 

Finally, a bit of good news.  My triglycerides are down 55% from last year.  Still a little high, but significantly improved thanks to a change in exercise habits.

9:15 - I get sucked into a black hole of a discussion that benefits nobody and ends with no plan of action.

10:30 - I'm tired.  I want to go home.  The nurse is gone so I can't recheck my blood pressure.  Not that it matters, the Mt. Dew I chugged probably wouldn't help matters.

If this is a sign of what's to come this month, I think I'll hibernate.

Anyone remember the Hibernol commercial?

Customer Dis-service

Satellite radio is nice, but it is by no means a necessity.  With that in mind, we cancelled our service earlier this year.  It was easy enough to cancel, but then things got difficult.  I need to vent, so here goes.

Seems about right

April - I called to cancel.  They offered us a two month free usage of their service in an attempt to get us to keep paying for a service we rarely used.  I informed them that if I had to do anything, even as little as call back in to terminate the free offer, I didn't want it.  I was assured that it would automatically end and I had nothing to do. They sent us a refund check for the unused months we had already paid for so I thought we were done.

I was just a little wrong.

June - We got a notice that our subscription was about to expire due to lack of payment and that we would need to make a payment to continue with them.  Knowing that the service would discontinue automatically, I ignored their request for cash.  When we received the third letter I called in and politely asked what the hell was going on.  I was informed that I did, in fact, need to cancel the service...again. 

The less than helpful person on the other end of the line asked me to hold while she transferred me to someone who could cancel for us.  Apparently she had not been trained in the art of closing an account.  She transferred me and their phone system hung up on me.  I called back and the same thing happened.  The third time I called I told the person just to cancel us and be done.  She said OK, tried to transfer me again for good measure, and the phone went dead.

July - More notices.  Not only were we getting at least one a week, now I was getting calls on my cell phone from an automated service telling me to pay up or be cut off. 

August - At this point we were getting about four notices per week, and probably the same amount of phone calls.  I called them again and went through the same disconnecting process.

September - After months of notices they finally turned off the service.  We hadn't used it in the past few months, but did check it every so often to see if they had figured out how to stop it.

October - We got a letter from a collection agency.  We were informed that XM had turned our account over to them in an effort to collect the past due balance.  I called and explained what happened.  They, of course, could do nothing so I had to write a letter and file an appeal with XM directly.

As of the date of this post we are still waiting for XM to reply.  I'm sure they will claim not to have received our letter and want us to pay the past due balance.

Anyone else had issues with XM?  I can't imagine we are the only ones to fight this battle.  I just wonder how many people pay the bill to get XM off their back.  I also wonder if there is some sort of class action lawsuit pending.

Their attempts to squeeze a little bit of cash out of their customers seem to be a bad business practice, if you ask me.  

Dreaded mail

We don't get too much mail these days.  It seems like the only thing we get consistently are magazines (mostly ones we haven't subscribed to), catalogs, credit card offers, things addressed to "Resident", fliers, and the occasional piece for the people that used to live here and moved out over five years ago.

Every so often we get a card or letter from someone we know, but most of that comes via email any more.

There is one thing we get and can count on getting each and every year - something from the IRS.


Wouldn't this be nice?

It is the one piece of mail I will actually open while standing at the mailbox.  Any refunds we get are done via direct deposit, so this is almost never a good thing. 

My heart rate increases.  I start to sweat and shake a little bit.

What have I done to draw the attention of the IRS? 

Every tax return I have filled out in the last nine years has prompted them to come after me. 

Yes, you read that right.  For the last nine years I have gotten a letter from the IRS stating that I owe them thousands of dollars and I better send in a check because the juice (interest, for those of you not familiar with Rounders or gambling) is running.


This is to signify the juice running.  OJ in this case, not interest.

Every year I then dig up my old return, compare what they have to what I have, and prepare a response. 

For six of those nine years the response has been exactly the same:

To Whom it May Concern,

You've now screwed this up for the last X number of years. Please see the attached documentation (printed directly from the IRS web site and/or copied from the tax code) and let me know, with an apology, that you agree to your screw up. Again.

Regards, Brad and Julia

PS - My wife's name is still Julia, not Julis. Can you change that one more time?

Ok, so I don't phrase it exactly like that, but I would love to.  If I didn't think they would tear my future returns apart in retaliation I might be more inclined to be a smart ass.

I got the fourth letter from them this year on Monday.  This is not exactly what they said, but it's close.

Dear Brad and Julia,

My bad.  We'll send you some money back since you did overpay us as you originally indicated. 

Talk to you next year,

IRS

PS - We got Julia's name right, but we'll screw it up next year, intentionally.  This isn't over.

In the three cases that were not like the others only once did I agree with them and cut a check.  For the record, I am now 8-1 all time against the IRS, but that one loss is not entirely true as I disagreed with a few points and they backed off of those.  Maybe I'm 8-0-1, calling that time a tie.

My record, unfortunately, proves nothing.  The only thing it means for certain is that the IRS is due for a big win.

Therefore, I humbly submit my resignation from doing my own taxes and acknowledge that it's time to hire a CPA.

Julis agrees.