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Posts Tagged ‘love’

So, in case you were wondering, it is difficult to be a parent.  I think the biggest mistake that parents make is the effort we place on how our children should be.  Before my oldest son was born, I received the greatest advice that I ever received regarding parenting.  I was told, “You can decide what kind of parent you will be, but you can’t decide what kind of child you will have.”  Almost everyday that I have been a parent, this statement has been true.

Despite that great advice, I find myself on a regular basis trying to “mold” my children in, not necessarily “my image”, but at least a close facsimile of “my image”.  Scratch that, not “my image”, but the image of what I think they should be.  In other words, the advice that I find to be so true, I break all the time.  So why is this so difficult?  Let me put it this way, I think there is a fine line between molding your child and wishing the best for them.  Some time what we think is best and who we are as people mix together like a bad bowl of oatmeal. The reality is that I love my children as they are, but I love them too much to let them stay that way.

So, my goal is NOT to change my kids, but to help them be the best “them” they can be.  Which is what inspired a pretty big fight between my oldest son and myself.  Like so many parent/child fights, it began with ‘good intentions’.  My son is my research assistant this summer.  We work with an animal known as a marmot.  We spend several weeks collecting data for my research.  Luckily for me, he is with me voluntarily.  I am sure this will not be the case forever, but I am thankful he is with me now.

The research does not take all day, and we have many ‘free’ hours in the cabin, and the cabin has Wi-Fi.  So, instead of him being plugged in for hours per day, I suggested a study schedule of his more difficult subjects, French and Biology.  He begins high school next year, and I wanted him to do well.  This of course would be in addition to his assignment of reading a book (assigned by my wife) during the summer.  Well, let’s just say that he was not impressed with this plan and was quite upset at the prospect of his father destroying his summer.

I don’t have time to go into all of the details of our heated discussion, but suffice to say, it was heated, and if you were in the room, you’d think I was threatening to take away his food and make him sleep outside.  But you know the real kicker? At some point during our discussion, it became clear to me that he thought that I wanted him to study because I did not think he would be able to handle High School.  He felt I had no faith in his abilities.

How many problems in relationships are caused by miscommunication?  Hurtful words as a result of insecurities?  What if we could lead with love and support rather than change and criticism?  I love my son, and I know he can do well in High School, and I really want to help.  But it is clear to me, that in my desire to help, I must lead with love and support.  He needs to know that I am his biggest fan.  He needs help not because he lacks the ability, he needs help because we all need help to be the best we can be.  The fight calmed down when I shared my own areas where I need help.  I am not a perfect parent, but a parent that I hope to be.  To do that, I need lots of help.

Today, we discussed a chapter of ‘Catching Fire’ and answered French questions on the app, Duolingo.  He read without being asked, started telling me about the chapter without prompting, and we did Duolingo together.  I can’t decide what kind of child I can have, but I am very lucky to have the one I got.

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One way to get your kid interested in going to college is having them hang out with college kids.  My son and I eat dinner surrounded by college kids.  Between the swear words being used as naturally as breathing, sexual innuendos, and stories of college escapades that no 14-year old should hear, you’d think I would be warping my son.  He laughs on a regular basis, and I am pretty sure he can’t wait to be ‘one of them’.  Who says that there is no value in crude crass college kids? I’m just sayin …

 

 

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So, for some reason I woke up this morning thinking about death. It may have to do with the fact that I have been with my family for the last 67 hours and 20 minutes, but who is counting. I love my family, but holidays are stressful.

It starts off with trying to get out the door. We got three kids, and we need to make sure everyone has what they need for the annual trip to the great white north. Of course, this year, the north is not so white. Not a flake of snow this year, and it’s Minnesota. What is up with that? I am not a huge fan of snow, but even for this California boy, it is weird. It does make the drive less stressful, which is nice. This year is particularly difficult, as I still have grading to do, my oldest is sick as a dog, and I can’t seem to figure out why on God’s green earth my wife’s suitcase is so freakin’ heavy. Next year I am implementing a new family rule, if the wife can’t load it into the car, it is too damn heavy. If I was an airline, I would charge her 50 bucks. Actually, I like that idea better. Just call me United, because I am charging for extra bags and over the weight limit bags next year.

There is also of course, the standard snide remarks and evil looks. “We were supposed to leave an hour ago.” “I am hungry” – this is not the kids, it is me. “Can you change Violet’s diaper?” “I can’t do that at the same time as doing the last thing you asked me to do.” “Where is the camera?” “Why is your suitcase so heavy.” “Did you bring the camera?” “Maybe it is in your suitcase.” “I thought you had it.” “I didn’t have it, why would I have it?” “You had it last.” “No I didn’t, you used it at that thing.” “It doesn’t matter, where is it? Oh here it is.” And then of course, after everyone is loaded in the car, the wheels are beginning to spin in reverse, the it-never-fails, “Shoot! I forgot something.” Ugggggggghhh! Eventually, we arrive to the father-in-law’s house without incident. Let the holidays begin.

As I said before, my oldest son was sick. He is feeling a lot better now. While we were trying to get out the door, he was asleep in his bedroom. We did not leave without him, but I thought it would have been funny if we did. The reason I thought about this was because I completely forgot about him as I was loading the car, then all of sudden he came out of his bedroom with his backpack full of the things he needed for the trip. I then thought, “Oh yeah, my son is coming with us.” How funny would that have been if we had left without him? Half way to Minneapolis, “I feel like we are missing something.” I told this to my son. He did not think the possibility was as funny as I did. Did you know that many people have a story of how their parents left them alone somewhere when they were a kid? If I remember correctly, my ex-wife was left alone at a gas station. She came out of the bathroom and her family was gone. I wonder how often this happens.

So, back to death. As I stated, I woke up this morning thinking of death. Not in a Nicholas Cage, Leaving Las Vegas sad kind of way, but more in a uplifting Leanardo DiCaprio, Titanic kind of way. My heart will go on. You see I have been very impressed with my kids over the last couple of days. Let’s start with Violet. She was wonderful in the car (almost five hours) and seems to be comfortable wherever we go. She explores, smiles. and interacts with everyone. She is quite frankly, a joy. My son, Isaac is awesome as always, but what has been most wonderful is his patience. If you have ever met my son, Isaac, you know that he has enough energy to power a major city, and I mean Los Angeles. And with all the waiting around, packing and unpacking, he has been awesome. And finally, my oldest, Brett Jr. He brought his violin. And has put on two concerts already, and the family has loved each and everyone of them. I am so proud of the way that he has presented himself and how wonderful it is to watch him play the violin for others. He has one more concert, and that will be on Christmas day. He is amazing.

So, when I die, I want there to be no ambiguity in my children’s minds on how I feel and felt about them. On my deathbed, there will be no question of how much they meant to me. Why? Because I will tell them now, and everyday until my death. In this holiday season, regardless of your belief, take a moment to let the ones you love know how you feel. Don’t let it wait till your eulogy, tell them now. May love be shared this holiday season, and may it be shared as strong and powerful as the One who gave His Son to be born on Christmas Day. Merry Christmas everyone!

Cool. It’s snowing.
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I was at the post office and I saw a Kwanzaa stamp. Are people still doing this? I am black, and I’m still unsure exactly what it means to celebrate Kwanzaa.  I agree with Stanley’s response to all of the political correctness surrounding the Holiday Season, from the TV show, The Office, “I don’t want it.  Christmas is Christmas is Christmas is Christmas.  I don’t want no Kwanzaa wreath.  I don’t need no dreidle in my face, that’s its own thing.  And who is that black Santa for?  I don’t care.  I know Santa ain’t black.  I could care less.  I want Christmas!  Just give me plain baby Jesus lying in the manger Christmas!”  I agree with Stanley.  I’m just sayin …

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So, yesterday was my blogiversary (July 6).  Leave it to me to miss it.  To all of you that have been reading my blog, thanks, you are awesome.

I am currently in the mountains with my son doing research on yellow-bellied marmots (Marmota flaviventris).  Look it up.  The new picture on the front page of my blog is a marmot, but a different species, Marmota olympus, the Olympic Marmot.  But of course, I am sure you already knew that.

Brett and I just got back from a long hike.  We went up to 11,000 feet and then walked back for several miles.  The last half mile was in snow.  Yes, you read that correctly, snow.  It took a long time and he did not complain once.  I plan to post pictures soon, but not today.  We will spend the rest of the day in our cabin relaxing as it kicked both of our butts.  When I got back, Brett went to the bathroom in the main office and there was a guy sitting in the lobby of the office.  He asked me if that was my son.  I said yes.  he was very impressed that I was able to get my son to come to the mountains with me.  I told him that the impressive part was that I do not force him to come.  He comes willingly.  The man said that he hopes one day that his son will want to hike the mountains with him, but is concerned that technology and girls will win over father-son time.  He told me I was very lucky.

The conversation with the man in the lobby reminded me of one very simple truth:  I am very lucky.  I love the fact that Brett is with me, and hope he will want to come to the mountains with his old man for many years to come.  Regardless, I plan on enjoying this while I can.

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When I first started this blog, I promised myself I would do it for a year.  I have done it for a year.  I also thought that only my sister would read it, and although she is a fan, I apparently have others as well.  Pretty cool.  My goal for next year?  Less redeeming value.  I’m just sayin …

The following is my first blog on http://www.sincejuniorhigh.com.  Enjoy!

Does the World REALLY Need Another Blog?

Welcome to my first Blog site.  I started out publishing notes on Facebook, and my sister convinced me to start a blog.  So, why am I blogging.  First of all I think I have interesting things to say.  You may disagree, but I don’t really care.  Which brings us to the second reason I am blogging.  I enjoy reading my own thoughts.  So, even if no one ever reads this blog, I plan on enjoying it, and if you do too, bonus buy.

Will this be a site where family and friends can catch up with the comings and goings of my family?  Sometimes, but most of the time I will be writing about random thoughts I have.  For example, why Karate Kid 2010 was not necessary and explaining point by point how it is inferior to the original in almost every way (details for a later blog).

Will you be a better person by being a regular reader of my blog?  Highly unlikely.  Will we solve political and philosophical issues?  I certainly hope not.  This blog is for sheer entertainment value.  I plan to post every Saturday night with random posting when I feel like it.  So, what should my first post be about?  How about the name, “Since Junior High”.

So, several years ago some friends and I spent several hours playing video games at Gameworks in downtown Seattle.  It was a lot of fun.  After we were done with joystick heaven, I proclaimed to my buddies “My wrist hasn’t been this sore since junior high.”  This line has been quoted ever since, and has been officially entered into the Witty Line Hall of Fame.  If all goes well, by reading this blog, you will be exposed to such high quality comedy.  It’s gold!  Gold, Jerry!

Now for my first random thought:

Is it really THAT difficult to put a shopping cart back?  Seriously, have you ever been so far away from a shopping cart stall and said to your self, “I’m beat after walking through that store.  I just can’t walk this empty cart with wheels the 20 feet necessary to put it out of harms way.”  Really?  If this is you, your car deserves to be the target of shopping cart derby.  I’m just sayin…

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So, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and if you are like us, you have already celebrated the day or at least mostly.  As far as I can tell, most people celebrate the day the weekend before the actual day.  So, when I tried to get dinner reservations for Saturday night, it was impossible.  So, we went to dinner on Friday night instead.  We went to a hoity toity place called Kil@Wat, and I did not misspell the name.  Why the ‘@’?  I have no idea.  The restaurant was in downtown Milwaukee and we were dressed very nice.  Quite frankly, she and I looked awesome.  Her more than me, but that is to be expected.  As we were dressed to impress, we felt empowered to make fun of other people’s attire.  For example, the woman with too short skirt with the waist band just below the neck and about 20 pounds overweight.  The overweight part was fine, but not the too high, too short skirt.  She was not as bad as the woman with the knee-high boots with short short BRIGHT orange skirt and matching low-cut BRIGHT orange top.  She was also about 6 foot 3.  She may have been a hired escort.  I hope she was, because then it would have made more sense, but that might just be me.

OK, back to the restaurant.  The service was amazing.  Our waiter had an assistant.  Seriously, the waiter had an assistant.  What was the assistant’s job?  Good question.  He was to make sure that our water needs were taken care of.  He was peddling two types of mineral water.  I can’t tell you more than that because the idea was ridiculous as far as we were concerned.  Good ol’ Milwaukee city water was just fine by us.  Despite the great ambiance and excellent service, the food was only so so.  We will not be back, but we had a good time.  Plus, we had an excellent coupon, cause that’s how we roll.  On the actual day we will go to Red Robin as a family which is something we have been doing for the past four years I believe.  We will have a good time.  My kids and I will probably forever associate Red Robin with Valentine’s Day.

The whole experience has gotten me thinking of Valentine’s Day and what’s the point of the day.  If you are single and don’t want to be, I can only imagine that the day sucks.  If you are married, then you may be getting your yearly flowers as a gift, if you are a woman, and guaranteed sex night, if you are a man.  It is kind of sad when you think about it.  On one hand, it is beautiful to think of a day that celebrates love.  On the other hand, it is sad that a day created by Hallmark (I don’t know this) is required to get some loving from the person who should be providing the loving on most days anyway.  The irony for me is that I do not know if I have ever got loving on Valentine’s Day.  Not the actual day at least.  Often the day before, or the day after, but rarely on the actual day.  Weird huh?  I can’t complain though, I don’t need Valentine’s Day to get some, which is nice.  My wife will take one for team on a regular a basis, which is nice.  Too much information??  Now take a moment to think of all the people who are hooking up over the next 24 hours.  OK, don’t think about it too much, it might creep you out.  Nonetheless, whether it is once a year, once a week, or daily, I hope you, if you are able, can get your love on this Monday.  Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

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Last Thursday I woke up and it was 8 degrees below zero.  EIGHT FRICKIN’ DEGREES BELOW ZERO!  And I am not talking Celsius, if that has any meaning to you.  For those of you that are lucky enough to live in warm states, let’s bring this temp into perspective.  The temperature would have to raise a full 40 degrees to reach the temperature of an ice-cube.  An ICE CUBE!!  This means on Thursday morning, it was WAY warmer IN my freezer than outside.  Why do I live here?  It was cool to throw boiling water into the air and watch it instantly turn in to snow (see my Facebook page to see video).  Simple pleasures.  I’m just sayin …

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Happy Christmas!

So, supposedly there is a war on Christmas, at least if you believe  anything that Fox News says.  Of course, I don’t believe Fox News for  most things as they make more news than they report on.  What is even a more cruel twist of fate, evil irony, or just plain devil incarnate (Can  you tell how I feel about Fox News?) is that they report on the news  that they make up.  If you pay attention, you will discover this for  yourself, you do not have to believe me.

A war on Christmas? Really?  Here is the big issue, they hate the fact  that people are saying Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas.  So,  freaking what!?!  Are you telling me that if people suddenly begin to  say Happy Holidays instead of Christmas than the United States of  America will suddenly become a Muslim state?  Seriously?  Do you think  the Jewish people are complaining that people are saying Merry Christmas?  Find me one, just one! They don’t care.  What about the  Muslims?  Contrary to what Fox News might tell you, the Muslims that  live here, want to be here and like it here.  As a matter of fact, go  to your local Muslim owned gas station, and you know what will be  written on their windows?  That’s right, Merry Christmas.  They are not stupid, they know that their culture and belief system will not be  destroyed by experiencing the local culture, which is Christmas.

Santa the God Destroyer

The funny thing is, you know what is really killing Christmas?  Fox  News, no, just kidding.  Seriously, the killer of Christmas is Santa  Claus.  For those of you that may not be aware, Christmas is the  celebration of the birth of Baby Jesus.  Santa and the shopping season  as so destroyed that concept that many people who I know make comments like, “We don’t have Santa with our kids.  We are not Christian.”  That is an actual quote from a person that I know.  The idea that people  equate Santa and the commercialism of gifts and Christianity is the  real killer of Christmas.  If you know me, or read my blog, you  probably know that I am a Christian and we celebrate the birth of Jesus in our home and I don’t give a flying Fahrvergnügen if you say Happy Holidays or not.  Why should I care?  You can say Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, or Rad Ramadan (you like that? Just made it up) to me and it won’t affect my beliefs.  The biggest lesson that most people need to learn is that “What you do ain’t got nothin’ to do with me!”  So, don’t let Fox News convince you that you are doing something wrong by saying “Happy Holidays”.  Since when did it become wrong to care about not hurting other people’s feelings.  As a matter of fact, it sounds like something Jesus would do.

Oh, and you left-wing, tree-hugging, liberals, I got something for you  too.  Chill out!  Do you know what the most popular holiday in the US is?  That’s right, Christmas.  And that’s a fact.  Well, I don’t know if it’s a fact, but I do know that if you are off of work right now, it is because of Christmas.  You know why?  Because you live in the United States of Frickin America, that’s why.  If I lived in Israel, do you think I would be complaining about Hanukkah?  Like it or not, if you live in the US then deal with the fact that Christmas is popular.  So, say Merry Christmas!  If you are offending someone, just say “Sorry, my bad, I did not realize that by saying Merry Christmas I was rejecting your culture, or claiming that your religion was wrong.  Or maybe you are just a little too sensitive about what I say as a greeting?  Maybe you need to reevaluate what you believe in if a two-word salutation by me is going to rock your faith or lack thereof.  Or maybe, just maybe, you need to be worrying less about what I am saying and more about how you can spend more times with your kids and wife instead of worrying about what other people are saying or doing.  Now, get out of my face before I go Bad Santa all over your ass.  Oh and by the way, Merry Christmas!”

So, the moral of this story is do what you got to do.  Say Happy 
Holidays if you like, you will not destroy Christmas.  Say Merry 
Christmas, and if someone is offended, then say sorry and move on, or try my suggestion above.  Regardless, I hope you have a great and loving time with your friends and family this holiday season.  And I believe that Gumby said it best, “Merry Christmas Damn It!”

Eddie Murphy as Gumby. Awesome!

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Over Thanks giving, my got mad because I hated the fact that I had to wait in line as a kid at the grocery store while she ran off and got something she forgot.  She pointed out that I didn’t mind it when she waited in line at Disneyland so that me and my friends did not have to wait going from ride to ride.  She is right, but I still hold to the fact that I hated it.  But it makes me think of my own kids as we take them to Mall of America for Christmas Eve, spend hours upon hours looking for the items that we know they want, or drive from place to place so they can go sledding, see friends, or go to the mall with friends.  And they have no idea what we go through to make them happy.  Just as I did not appreciate my mom waiting in lines for me at Disneyland, neither my kids will appreciate until they have kids.  Nonetheless, as parents, it is what we do.  Thanks Mom!  And Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.  I’m just sayin …

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I’m in Minneapolis right now, and it is the freakin’ ice age up here.  There is like 2-3 feet of snow on the ground and it keeps snowing.  What amazes me every year is the number of black people who I see living here.  Black folks and snow? Who knew?  I get the white folks.  They are crazy, but the black folks?  What is the world coming too?  I’m just sayin (Part Deux) …

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Note:  I am having the busiest semester of my life.  Not just at home, but at work.  My blog is suffering as a result.  It normally takes me about an hour to write a blog, but I have not had a free hour in quite some time.  Until things change, I plan on writing shorter blogs more often.

So, I worked out last night for the first time in a long time (Have I mentioned I’ve been busy?).  My son started swim lessons at the Y and while he swam, I did the elliptical machine for 40 minutes.  Before my wife got very pregnant I belonged to a weight lifting class.  Well, yesterday, I ran into the teacher of that weight lifting class about to begin her Water Exercise Class at the pool.  I have not seen her for about eight months.

When she saw me, she turned towards me, away from her class standing in the pool awaiting her instruction, her eyes lit up and stretched out her arms as if to say, “Get ready prodigal son, you are coming in for a landing.” and gave me a huge hug.  This event took about 60 seconds, meanwhile her class is just standing in the pool watching us catch up real quick.  The class must have waited five minutes for her to finish greeting me.

Have you ever had someone see you, eyes light up, and want to give you a big ol’ hug?  I am NOT a touchy feely person, but it made my day.  It really did.

This week, let at least one person know that you are very glad to see them and give them a big ol’ hug, or the greatest gesture you are comfortable with (I think a hearty handshake would do, but that is just me).  But emphasize the “Man, am I glad to see you!”  You will make someone’s day.  Guaranteed.

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I wish every time I walked into a room there would be theme music.  One of these days I am going to have some one cue up the beginning riff of “Beat It” by Michael Jackson as I walk in to class to give a lecture.  If I could set this up everywhere I went, I would.  And that’s a fact.  I’m just sayin …

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So, my baby daughter turned one week old yesterday and she is the third example of a simple truth that I have come to know, babies are boring.  Insolence! Naysayer! He’s a witch, burn him!  You sir are a charlatan and a fraud!  You cad! Good day sir.  I SAID GOOD DAY!  That’s right, you read correctly, I said that babies are boring.  Don’t believe the hype.  Now here is the main point of this post, most people, maybe all people, with the exception of myself and possibly 20-year-old single heterosexual males think babies are awesome.  What’s so awesome about them?

Here is a day in the life of my daughter, Violet:

10:30-12:15 Awake
12:15-12:30 Feed
12:30-3:00  Sleep
3:00-3:15   Feed
3:15-4:15   Awake/sleep/cry unless I am walking with her in my arms
4:15-4:20   Feed
4:20-5:30   Sleep
5:30        Isaac wakes up Violet by poking her in the eye
5:31        Isaac denies waking his sister up, but since she is up, he asks if can he hold her.
5:31-7:00   Awake/sleep/crying
7:00-7:15   Feed
7:15-9:00   Sleep
9:00-9:15   Feed
9:15-9:45   Watch TV with Daddy
9:45-12:00  Sleep

When I use the term “awake” I use it VERY loosely.  She can’t focus her eyes.  When she “smiles” I am quite confident it’s gas.  And she can’t keep her head up on her own, she is basically a 10 pound bobble head.  Of course, if I flick her head like a bobble head I am a “bad” father.  Who makes up these rules?

The rest is basically a blur to me as I try very hard to sleep through the feeding sessions.  Before you condemn me for being a man, know this, I do NOT have mammary glands, and could not feed her if I tried.  My guess is that the inventor of the breast pump was a man, but its intention was not for humans, it was for cows.  The modifier of the milking machine most certainly was a woman.  If it was a man, he was punched by the nearest father once the ramifications of his invention became known.  I am also certain that after being punched and socked in the groin by a man with kids, the inventor got up and quietly said “I deserved that.”  Leah has a breast pump, but plans to breast feed for as long as I can convince her it is best for the baby.

The point is that babies don’t do nuthin’.  So, why are so many people crazy about them?  Ok they are cute, but what else they got?  Now don’t get me wrong, being cute is very important.  From an evolutionary standpoint, it is the one thing keeping the parent from killing their child. If you have children, you know exactly what I am talking about.  But when it comes to being crazy about babies, no one is worse than grandmothers.

My mom and Leah’s mom are chomping at the bit to see their granddaughter.  However, we made it very clear to them that we would not like visitors until September.  We don’t want to start out with craziness and I don’t care who you are, family, friends or acquaintances, visitors, especially sleepover visitors add stress to one’s life, especially mine.  So I assure you that no one was more surprised than me when our phone rang (I did not answer it) and over our answering machine’s speaker I hear my mother-in-law’s voice with many pieces of information, but only one important one, she and Leah’s niece are in a hotel 15 minutes away.  I clearly mis-heard.  My wife comes down the stairs, I say to her,”Hey Love, your mom left a message.”  “Yeah she called me on my cell as well, let’s listen to it.” she said.  They are in Milwaukee.  WHAT!?!?

Later, I made it very clear to my mother-in-law that this was not OK, but here is the thing, she drove SEVEN HOURS, paid for a hotel (didn’t knock on our door in fear of us not letting her in, also did not call us sooner in fear of us saying no to her visit) to see her granddaughter for TWO hours and then drove the seven hours back home.  Crazy!  Baby crazy!  Oh by the way, what was Violet doing during her visit?  Sleeping.  She would’ve got the same impact by holding a teddy bear with a picture of Violet’s face on it and saved the gas and hotel costs.  I know, I know, I can hear you saying it now, but Brett, it is not the same.  Really?  Really?  Would waiting two weeks (when she was due to arrive) make that much of a difference.  Baby Crazy.  It should be classified as a disease.

So, call me an ogre, callous, or say that I do not have a soul, but the bottom line, my daughter is about as exciting as the WNBA (Oh no he didn’t.  Do you know that WNBA games are going on now?  Yeah, neither did I.  Who is funding this league?  Why does the WNBA still exist?  I say play a game between the best high school students, and if they win, they get to stay on TV.  If they lose, we finally get to shoot that broken legged horse.  Am I wrong?)  OK, that was a long digression, I apologize.  Simply, babies are boring.  This won’t be true forever.  For example, my three-year-old provides loads of entertainment.  My son announces to his mom “Babies poop in their diaper and Isaac pees on the floor.”  My wife is despondent as she gazes at the very large puddle on the bathroom floor.  See, comedy gold. 

I am convinced there is a gene that causes people, mostly women, to go crazy over babies.  A gene that I am clearly lacking, but if it wasn’t for this gene, the human race would have probably died out long ago.  I love my daughter, and she is definitely the cutest little girl on the planet, but until she can show appreciation for Star Wars, throw a ball, tell a joke, or start pooping chocolate, she is officially and affectionately B-O-R-I-N-G, boring.  Oh by the way, did I mention that my daughter, Violet, is AWESOME!

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When do feet become ugly appendages and parts of the body that one would never, ever want to be placed in one’s mouth? Unless you have some kind of fetish, in which case you have issues that I would prefer not discuss here, you could place a baby’s foot in your mouth and no one would think of you as weird.  Unless it was a stranger’s baby, and then they would call the police.  But I just find it funny that baby’s feet are super cute and cuddly.  Daddy’s feet?  Uuuggghh, shiver down the spine.  I’m just sayin …

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