Daddy Daze

A reminder of the best moment

2010-11-17T10:52:00.000-08:00

I love going to weddings. I know, it sounds strange for a guy to say that, but it's true.
Since I graduated from college I have been taking photographs of weddings. I've photographed more than 25. To this point it has all been word of mouth. Family, friends, friends of friends and colleagues.
Some of it's about the money — it supports my camera and photography habit — but it's more about the feeling I get every time I see two people standing in front of God, family and friends to profess their love for each other.
Seeing two people make that commitment to each other reminds me of the bond I forged with my beautiful wife on June 12, 1999.
So, the last two weekends have been extremely special as my wife and I drove to Liberty to watch her roommate from college get married and then back the second weekend for the reception.
Dawn, my wife, one of my good friends and I spent a lot of time our freshman, junior and senior years playing euchre — I'll leave it to your imagination as to why I left out the sophomore year.
We had a great time watching Dawn marry a man who seems to be exactly right for her. We stayed at their house for a night (not the night after the wedding of course) and got to know him pretty well.
Just being at a wedding is heartening, but to have my wife there with me these last two weekends was even better. I did the photos and she was the matron of honor.
Part of the reason I like weddings, I suppose, also has to do with my profession. I see all the divorces that come through. I read stories about marriages gone wrong and hear about discord on a daily basis.
One of my great pleasures is reading the 50th, 60th and occasional 75th anniversary and imagining what that will be like for my wife and I — assuming we both live that long of course.
Being many years away from such a feat, however, my current great pleasure is going to weddings and recording in photographs the beginning of a marriage.
Congratulations Dawn and Gary.

Bonding at the office

2010-09-16T09:52:00.000-07:00

When Big Sister was younger I took her to work with me all the time. A journalists schedule is relatively flexible, so there were days I would go pick her up from grandma's house and we'd spend the afternoon with me.
She'd play with toys or watch movies, or sometimes tag along on a photo shoot. The photo shoots were the best. She was really shy, so she'd hang on my leg so I couldn't hardly move. Eventually, I figured out that she was light enough I could sit her on the camera bag on that was hanging around my shoulder. People would oooh and aaah and laugh at the photographer carrying his daughter on the camera bag around his neck.
I didn't care. There was a lot of bonding there.
So, when Little Sister had to spend the day with daddy earlier this week I was excited. I was afraid she wouldn't be, though. For one thing I don't cover as many events as I did then. I was managing editor of the Mooresville-Decatur Times then and am now managing editor of the Martinsville Reporter-Times. The two jobs have much different duties. Sitting with me can be boring these days. Big Sister also made sure to tell Little Sister how much fun daddy's work is.
"Uh, oh," I thought. I was starting to have some real expectations to live up to.
We were anticipating the day for a while, so when it finally came we were ready. I had the bucket of toys in my office and the extra laptop cued up to laughing babies on Youtube.com — Little Sister thinks the laughing babies are hilarious and will giggle at them for hours.
I was excited when my Beautiful Wife came striding into the office with Little Sister in tow, nervously hanging onto mommy's leg.
Mommy left and Little Sister started playing with her toys. She didn't say a word for two hours. Then, it was to say she had to go to the bathroom.
Finally, I had to go to my Rotary meeting and we packed up and headed off. She was good there too. She ate the spaghetti I put in front of her and she was quiet the whole time. When her mommy called to say she could come get her, Little Sister said she wanted to stay with daddy.
So, I guess she had a good time and she was really good.
The real test will be the next time, which is in two week.
Regardless of how she acts, I'm really happy to have the couple of hours to bond with Little Sister the same way I bonded with Big Sister.

Activity overload

2010-08-25T11:37:00.001-07:00

I used to look at parents funny when they would complain about how many things their children particpated in.
Most people have had the conversation with someone.
"I can't believe I'm so busy, I have to take Johnny to soccer practice tonight, football practice tomorrow, swimming the next night ..." and on and on.
I always wondered, why don't you just say no? Tell Johnny he has to pick two and leave it at that.
But now that I have a daughter of the age to join things, I see that it's not that easy.
We always said we would never let Big or Little sister be in more than two things at a time. There are only two parents, so we should keep it down to that.
And we've kept to that so far. Suddenly, somehow, though we have three things this fall.
Big sister is in soccer, ballet and Daisys.
Wow. How did we get into three things? Oh, yeah, we started dance class and it would be a shame to let what she has already learned go to waste.
Well, she was in soccer last year, why would we keep her out this year?
Of course her mother was a Girl Scout, so we have to be involved in that.
I'm not arguing with any of that reasoning either. But I have much more understanding of how parents get sucked into doing so many activities with their children. It happens slowly and involves compromises you can't take back.
We did tell her no to swimming lessons this fall. That would just be too much.
Now, however, we're wondering how things are going to work once Little Sister is old enough to join activities. She's already in ballet and sees big Sister going to soccer and everything else.
She is ready to join too.
I know we'll have to say no to some activities — there just isn't time for everything — but it sure breaks your heart.
I'm guessing I'm going to be really busy for about 14 more years.

White coats cause trauma

2010-07-30T04:02:00.000-07:00

I've been in pretty good health most of my life, so there haven't been that many trips to the doctor. Maybe that's why sitting in the waiting area, sitting on the table in the patient room and that knock on the door when the doctor is finally ready to see you cause the blood to rush so much.
My blood pressure at the machines in the store is always pretty normal. But you get a nurse in the room and suddenly it shoots up.
My beautiful wife calls it "white coat syndrome." She said her mom has it and after going to the doctor with Big Sister on Tuesday, I'm sure she has it. The doctor visit was part of our ongoing investigation into what is really at the root of Big Sister's food allergies.
It was a pretty good day. I stayed home from work, so we got out of bed and got ready at a pretty leisurely pace. We had breakfast and I even took the girls to the park to play.
We dropped Little Sister off at grandma's house because she wasn't going to sit around in a doctor's office all afternoon.
The three of us took a short shopping trip to return some shoes and search for back-to-school deals.
But after an hour or so of procrastinating and eating lunch, it was time to go or risk being late to the appointment.
My blood pressure was up just trying to get there as they changed the names of the roads around the hospital in the two months since the office sent us directions. I drove around looking for West Drive, a road name that no longer exists.
We rushed up to the desk, hoping that being exactly on time wasn't late since the directions said to get there 20 minutes early. We were fine of course and took a seat in the waiting room where the Beautiful Wife and Big Sister pulled out "Ramona and Beezus" to pass the time and take the edge off. They are reading the book before they go see the movie. I think they had to go back later and reread a few pages, because Big Sister wasn't paying much attention.
We got the call to go into the doctor's office after about 10 minutes. We sat in the patient room and, luckily, they didn't make Big Sister put on a gown or anything.
She was nervous and it showed. Finally, that knock came. The doctor walked in and Big Sister got really quiet.
I think she might have a great future as a mime because every question was answered with hand gestures.
We got through the appointment. I'm not sure if the results will reveal why Big Sister gets hives with so many foods she eats, but it did show off her full-blown case of "white coat syndrome."

Tastes like childhood

2010-07-09T03:09:00.000-07:00

So many of my happy childhood memories revolve around apples — making apple pies, picking apples, apple cider, the Applefest my church used to put on every fall.
Nothing reminds me of growing more than applesauce though. And I'm not talking about the thin homogenized and overly processed gruel you buy in a jar at the store.
The apple sauce I remember often came out of a jar, but it was put in the jar by my mother. She made it herself over a hot stove after having picked up bushels of apples off the ground at the orchard she owned with my father before he died in a farm accident.
She made gallons of what I remember as tasting like sweet heaven and it would last all year long.
I missed apple sauce for a lot of years after I left home for college. In part because mom stopped making as much of it. It was a lot of work for one thing to make so much of it. So she would make a few jars full and then pull them out for special occasions. Eventually she stopped making it, I think. She'll call me and tell me after reading this blog if I'm wrong on that account.
Finally, though, about two years ago I got a real hankering for moms applesauce. I bought a couple different kinds thinking, surely some of the brands labeled natural would be good.
I was wrong. Nothing tasted like mom's applesauce.
It wasn't just something I wanted to taste either. I wanted to share that childhood experience with my girls. I wanted them to see someone make something fresh that tastes unbelievable.
So, I set out to make fresh applesauce — not as much as mom did, just a couple of quarts. Of course I didn't have any of the tools mom used and I remember it being a large job that took multiple days. I also didn't have access to an orchard where they would let me come in and pick the leftovers off the ground for free. The owners of the orchard mom used to own with my dad would let her do that, at least I think she told me they were free.
I bought a couple different kinds of apples and cut them up and boiled them just like mom. Since I didn't have the right kind of collander with a pestle I improvised. It didn't work. I just made a mess. And the applesauce didn't taste right.
So, I finally broke down and called my mom and told her what I was doing. She laughed and said I was overthinking. She used the collander and pestle because she made so much it would have taken way too long to peel and core all those apples.
She also told me I was waiting too late in the season because she always used Transparents and they were ripe at the beginning of July, not the end of August.
After that I made some decent applesauce with Granny Smiths. I just peeled them, cored them and boiled them in some applejuice until they were soft enough to puree with a stick blender.
Pretty good.
This year, I remembered to go buy the Transparents and last night I made applesauce that tastes just like my childhood. Now maybe someday my children will call me and ask, "Dad, how did you make that applesauce again. I could really go for some right now."

Oh, how the ball bounces

2010-05-14T03:06:00.000-07:00

I loved small rubber bouncy balls when I was a child. I loved bouncing them on walls, seeing how high I could get one to bounce and of course dunking them in the lowered basketball goal.
My mother hated the things and I never understood why until I had children of my own.
They look to be harmless enough -- most are less than three inches in diameter. So, how much damage could they do. In the theory of a child, they are harmless.
I mean, what’s wrong with throwing this projectile as hard as I can in the house?
The problem is that in the small uncoordinated hands of a 3- or 7-year-old, they are unpredictable bullets that ricochet uncontrollably.
Case in point, the other day little and big sister each had their own bouncy ball. One threw it down the hallway. The ball bounced and nearly knocked a mirror off the wall. That ball is now hiding where she can’t find it.
Next, there is a fight and a screaming match to see who controls the remaining bouncy ball.
Big sister gains control and throws the bouncy ball. It jumps around the room, finally coming to rest squarley on the face of Little Sister, knocking her glasses onto the floor.
Glasses aren’t broken, crying stops after about two minutes. No harm, no foul. But the ball still finds its resting place in my bathroom closet.
I’m starting to learn why my mother sighed so much. Maybe it’s because even today, I’m not much better at controlling the bouncy balls. Using them outside like they are intended only means the children are continually chasing them down the driveway until I scream, “stop, don’t go in the road! I lost it, I’ll go get it.”
I think maybe I’ll go put my bouncy ball in the closet with theirs.

Don't let up, it will pay off

2010-05-07T02:59:00.000-07:00

My children constantly teach me about persistence. They show me that no matter how many times you fail, you should keep trying and don't ever accept a "no" for something you really want.
Anyone with children knows what I mean about not accepting "no" for an answer. Big sister will ask 20 times in an hour if she can play with the neighbor girl even though we have already told her no 20 times. She always thinks that upon request 21, we will relent and change our minds. Occasionally we do, which is probably why she keeps asking.
Little Sister is at the stage when a no answer is almost devastating. She'll ask for a piece and candy. I'll tell her no and she'll go open the closet door and look longingly at the candy box, hoping upon hope that I will change my mind.
This persistence pays off in other ways as well.
Big Sister for one has been taking swimming lessons on and off for three years now. We started at the park pool with Red Cross lessons. She didn't quite get it.
Then, we tried lessons at the high school through a different program. She learned a little better, but we still weren't comfortable with her being in the water without a life jacket. So, we decided to try one more time (at the persistent request of Big Sister) with lessons at the school.
She finally got it. Instead of flailing about aimlessly, she started swimming. She is now a real honest to goodness kick-with-your-feet and stroke-with-your-arms swimmer. We're very proud of her.
And last, but not least, Little Sister's attempt at ballet beginning to shine. This one hasn't taken quite as long. We just put her in lessons in February.
The beautiful Wife and I were never sure what she was getting out of the class. When we would go in the room to observe, Little Sister got very shy and just stood in the middle of the room looking at the floor. It was no done deal that she would do any kind of dancing when it came time for a mini-recital on Saturday.
But, she put away her shyness in front of the crowd and followed along with the motions of her dance.
Now, I just hope I can remember the lessons of persistence my children are teaching me.

Changing perceptions

2010-04-23T03:28:00.000-07:00

I read a lot of horrifying things. Unfortunately most of them aren't fiction — they are probable cause affidavits of alleged child molesters.
Every time I read one it feels like a punch in the gut and makes me trust other people a little less with my children. We've always been lucky because my beautiful wife's wonderful mother has been there any time we needed someone to care for Big and Little sister. We don't worry about them at all.
We do worry about others, however, and haven't left either child with anyone who wasn't close trusted family.
Maybe I'm paranoid, but because of my own misgivings of others watching or playing with my children, I've always been worried about others' perceptions of me.
I love to play with my girls at the park. We run around the playground and laugh and chase each other. Often times other children will join us. This makes me self conscious — what are those other parents thinking as they watch some strange guy playing with their children.
Thursday I had a chance to see things in a different light and it was refreshing.
It a was a beautiful day. The beautiful Wife took Big Sister shopping because they needed to have a talk about something, so I walked to the park down the street with Little Sister.
There were probably 15 or 20 other children there with their parents. Little Sister and I began chasing each other around and before you know it we had picked up one, then two then three little girls and a little boy. By the end I counted eight children who were pretending to keep their gold — actually a pile of gravel — away from me.
I finally caught them — rather collapsed from exhaustion next to the slide. We all sat and talked for a minutes until one of the mothers on the side came up to me and said "we have to go now" as she pointed at her two little blonde girls.
"Thank you so much for playing with them, I was really tired and needed the break," she said.
That one sentence flipped my mind around and made me feel really good. Not every parent is paranoid about someone playing and having a good time with their children on the playground.
So, "thank you" mother of the two blonde girls for letting me play with your children and showing me that I don't have anything to be worried about.
Don't get me wrong, I'll still haven an eagle eye on my children.

Far from gluten free

2010-04-13T03:17:00.000-07:00

Healthy is one thing, but marketers and manufacturers are going nuts and they are making things very hard on my family.
The health-food craze is good, and hopefully introduces whole grains to children across the nation — I just wish they would stop introducing them to my child because she has a gluten allergy.
According to WebMD, "Gluten, the protein found in wheat, rye, and barley, is the common denominator in most of the grain-based products we eat, such as cereals, breads, and pasta."
Big sister can eat some bread products, the highly processed breads don't bother in moderation. Plain white Wonderbread or its generic equivalent are fine if she just has one grilled cheese. But when you add some whole grains in there she gets hives and a nasty belly ache.
The problem is everyone is adding whole grains to everything. Many schools (including the one she attends) now serve whole wheat buns with hamburgers and hot dogs.
There isn't a whole lot she can actually eat in the cafeteria line. We get around this by sending a lunch with her to school most every day.
It isn't until you start looking that you realize how many things have glutens in them.
WebMD lists a few: Salad dressings, Cold cuts, Egg substitutes, Instant flavored rice mixes, Flavored potato chips, Imitation crab (surimi), Some herbal teas, Licorice and some chocolates.
That's right, some chocolates.
We've spent a lot of years now, reading every package and acting like detectives just to keep our daughter healthy and to find things she can eat. (Mostly this ends up being the beautiful wife because I'm no where near as good at it as she is.)
Recently, my Beautiful Wife broke down and ordered a decent-sized box of gluten-free food from an Internet site. I'll let you know how that goes in future posts.

Going to be with God

2010-03-26T03:29:00.000-07:00

Just when we're at our lowest, children bring us back from the brink. They say something or do something that has to make you smile no matter how black your heart feels.
And other times they just surprise you at the depth of their knowledge.
Little Sister has been doing this for us recently.
On March 5 my Beautiful Wife's aunt Kim died. It was a really bad week. But things had been bad for quite a while and Little Sister knew it.
They had been going to aunt Kim's house most weeks for more than a year every Tuesday and for a while on Thursdays. They helped Kim with her housework, shopping and other mundane tasks. They always took Little Sister. My beautiful Wife said it warmed her soul to see how Little Sister made aunt Kim smile.
In the last weeks and when she did finally pass away, Little sister didn't understand why their routine had changed. She asked, "why aren't we going to Kimmy's."
She was told that Kimmy had gone to be with God and wasn't coming back. Little Sister didn't seem too upset about that. She knew from her own observation as well as our conversations that aunt Kim had been in a lot of pain and was close to dying. She also knows from Sunday school that God takes care of us.
But then, a week later to the day, our neighbor died — also from complications of cancer. We shielded Little Sister from that one mostly. Then one day the next week she asked the neighbor's wife where "the big guy" was at?
My beautiful Wife, seeing the pain on our neighbor's face quickly said, "he went to be with God too."
To that, Little Sister replied ... "doesn't God have enough people yet?"
I hope not. I'd like to be with him some day ... but don't tell that to Little Sister, who a week later was upset after I went to the doctor for a sinus infection.
She asked my Beautiful Wife the next day if daddy was going to be with God because he was sick.
Not yet Little Sister.

A difference is realized

2010-03-18T11:43:00.000-07:00

I was a soccer coach last fall. Before the season started and for the first couple of weeks, I was really nervous.
What did these girls think of me, bur more importantly was I competent enough that the parents wouldn't complain about my coaching skills. I knew nothing about soccer, so right there the complaints would be legitimate.
After the first week, however, I realized no one really knew anything about soccer — except my assistant coaches, who luckily had been coaches already in past years.
I went onto a couple of Web sites and dredged up the little bit I could remember from the one year of YMCA soccer as a youth. The year as a whole went great. We didn't win a lot of games, but there was no pressure to anyway. My goal was to just have a lot of fun — and I did.
I was never sure if the children on my team — outside of big sister anyway, who said she had a great time — were happy with their experience.
Turns out I didn't need to worry at all. I had the ultimate compliment a couple of weeks ago when I ran into one of the parents from that team. The father asked me if I was going to coach again, because his daughter was excited and she wanted to play for coach Brian again.
Then a couple of days later one of the parents came across my beautiful wife and asked if I would coach again.
If there was any doubt about me wanting to stick my toe back into the coaching pot of the Mooresville Optimist soccer league, it was quelled Wednesday night.
I took Big Sister to a Girl Scout roller skating party at the Southland Skate. As we went around and around I kept seeing girls who had been on my team and they all smiled, waved and said, "Hi Coach Brian!"
What a great feeling. And it was sort of a fluke, because I never saw myself as a coach. I'm definitely doing it again and hope other parents might consider helping out. I know the league (and other leagues for that matter) can use all the coaches it can get.

"hoooottt pooocketts."

2010-02-22T09:10:00.000-08:00

I used to watch comedians all the time. I loved to turn on the comedy channel and laugh at the stand-up routines. The comedy channel was a better option than going to clubs, I'm just not a club person.
But once Big sister got old enough to really start understanding what the comedians were saying I had to stop. For the most part the comedians who are on at an hour when she is awake are relatively tame, however, the themes are beyond what I want my children to hear.
There are some exceptions, a few comedians who keep it clean. Jim Gaffigan is one those the beautiful wife and I have enjoyed watching and will let both big and little sister watch.
I didn't know that Little sister had watched his show. So, I did a doubletake last week when we were at the dinner table.
We were having a conversation when, really quietly in a creepy kind of voice, Little sister whispers, "hoooottt pooocketts."
I about spit my food across the table.
"Did she just say what I thought she said," I asked the beautiful wife?"
With a big grin it was confirmed that, yes, she was referring to Gaffigan's "hot pocket" routine.
In fact, she had been walking around all day whispering, "hoooottt pooocketts." In the grocery story, her grandma said something about Hot Pockets and did the same double take as me when Little Sister did her thing, "hoooottt pooocketts."
If nothing else it confirms the power of advertising ... through I'm pretty sure she's not asking to eat a Hot Pocket. She still refuses to eat anything that doesn't look like an egg or macaroni and cheese.
I guess talking about something that resembles food is a good step toward eating more of it.

Back to normal ... sort of

2010-01-27T17:44:00.000-08:00

Following the flood that took up most of our lives from the end of July until mid November, the Culp family has finally settled into a somewhat more normal routine. It took awhile, though, because the holidays have a way of derailing anything normal.
That being said, we're starting see the flood as maybe somewhat of a good thing. There is now a true living room in our house and a true dining room. The disaster, which looks smaller and smaller as natural disasters have hit so many across the world, is really a blessing. And by blessing I mean that the screaming, yelling and uncountable toys are now far far away.
When big or little sister is too loud ... to your room girls.
Silence, or at least muted crying, is wonderful.
So, back to that routine.
These days I try to get home at the time Big sister gets home from school. Whichever parent is home first sits down with her at the dining room table and does homework. The other parent entertains Little sister in the other room so Big sister can concentrate on homework.
Once homework is done, it's time for a Wii bit of fun. We don't always get to do this one, but we like to bowl, box and dance. The littlest Culp is the best boxer, I'm the best dancer ... though I wouldn't show it off to anyone.
Another great part of our new house and routine is bedtime. We used to put the children to bed and then tiptoe around until we knew they were asleep because the TV in the old living room was about two inches from their bedroom door. Now, we are three rooms away.
Once again, blissful silence.
So, the flood, which caused so much drama in our family has turned out to be a blessing.
God certainly works in unexpected ways.

Washout

2009-08-05T18:52:00.000-07:00

It started as a normal Saturday morning. I needed to wash the dogs and shop for the beautiful wife's birthday present and maybe mow a little bit later. Not a very heavy day. I was even thinking I'd have time to play with the girls a little bit in there.
But the washing machine had other ideas.
I got up around 8:30 a.m. when the girls came in and jumped on the bed. I love it when they wake me up with kisses and hugs.
We got breakfast and I let them watch a little TV. I decided to do a load of laundry and start the dishwasher. Then it was time to get the girls ready to go birthday present shopping. I got them dressed after fighting about which clothes to wear.
We yelled back and forth about how they would do their hair and I finally got them into the bathroom to brush their teeth.
With the dogs barking, the children screaming and the dishwasher going, I didn't realize there was a big surprise brewing.
I looked down at the bathroom floor and started yelling at the girls ... "who got water all over the floor?!?"
As I looked around I realized there was way too much liquid for it to have been the girls who did it ... that the water was coming in under the wall.
I ran around the house to the laundry room. I stood there for about five seconds just horrified as water streamed from the laundry room door into the back living room. The carpet was floating like a water bed.
I turned off the water and just stood there for about two minutes.
I mean, what do you do? of course i did the man thing and tried to start sucking it up with a shop vac. I only dumped it twice before giving up that approach.
The Yellow Pages came out and I started going down the list until I found a contractor who was licensed, insured and bonded. They came out and started cleaning it up.
Luckily insurance will pay for all but $500 of the damage.
In the end our house might be better than it was before. ... If only we can live through the process.

A week with the mouse

2009-06-24T18:11:00.002-07:00

What happens when you put four Culps in the sun with a mouse and a bunch of people in air-conditioned suits? The family turns into a big puddle and the mouse picks the money out of the wallets left on the ground.
This analogy aside, our trip to Disney World earlier this month was a blast! it was exactly 10 days away from work and every other aspect of real life.
For those days, we parked the Envoy and left it off -- one quick trip to the outlet mall for cheap gifts aside.
We rode the bus to the parks and spent the days trying to stay cool while meeting as many characters as possible and getting their signatures. This actually worked out well because many of the waiting lines for characters were inside in the air conditioning. The trick was to make sure we were waiting in these lines during the hottest part of the day.
We got to ride a lot of wonderful rides -- big sister's favorites were the runaway train roller coaster at the Magic Kingdom and Soarin at Epcot.
Little Sister's favorite ride was Aladdin's Magic Carpet.
We'll have to go back in a few years when Little Sister can enjoy it better.

A new doggie

2009-05-27T17:16:00.002-07:00

We got Oakley 9 years ago -- about a year after we got married. The cocker spaniel mix was our first attempt at seeing if we could handle children.
Obviously we decided we could take care of children since we now have two.
Oakley is really pretty easy to take care of, but we do have to trim his fur once a month or so. His hair grows out and he looks kind of fuzzy. I have always trimmed him myself since he tried to eat the first person we took him to. Little dogs are the most vicious you know.
The beautiful wife just shakes her head at my attempts to groom the dog. I make his fur shorter, but it often looks a little choppy.
We're getting ready for vacation and the beautiful wife didn't want to send Oakley to sister-in-law's house without a trim, but she didn't want me to do it.
So, we took him to a groomer, the same one mother-in-law uses. She had done such a good job shaving down Bella, we thought we'd give her a try.
When I dropped Oakley off, she asked how I wanted it. I told her "pretty short."
"The ears too," she asked.
"Sure, why not."
We went away and came back an hour later. Little sister was with me. We pulled up and I was horrified, and just knew the beautiful wife was going to hate the cut as the groomer walked Oakley out to the car.
I just shook my head and paid the lady.
we took him home and the beautiful wife and I of course grumped and grouched about the bad haircut.
Oh, well. It will grow back out right?
We were surprised when, the next day, Little sister looks at the beautiful wife and says, "when are we going to go back and get Oakley? I don't like this new doggie as much."
It took some doing, but we finally convinced her the bald doggie is Oakley.

Put it back

2009-05-13T14:50:00.002-07:00

It started about two months ago -- actually about the time I blogged last. Big sister was getting jealous that all of her friends had lost teeth. Some had lost two or three -- and her teeth weren't even loose!
She would come to us every third day or so and ask, "is this tooth loose?"
We'd check it assure her, no, but you will lose one in God's time, not yours.
Finally, on March 23 one of her teeth was actually wiggling just a little.
Tiny bit at time over the last two or three weeks, that tooth got looser and looser.
Then Thursday night she got a bug in her head that the tooth was coming out. Big sister holed herself up in the bathroom in front of the mirror.
We could hear various grunts and groans for about half an hour.
Then ... all of a sudden it was, "Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
Big sister came running out of the bathroom, blood running down her chin and tooth in hand.
There was a wild scared look in her eyes as she screamed, "PUT IT BAAAACCCKKK ... I DON'T WANT TO GROW UP!!!!"
Through my laughing and the beautiful wife's stifled laughs, we managed to calm her down and get her to bed .., granted it was about an hour late.
All was good the next day when the tooth fairy had left her a note, $2 and a silver whistle with the intials TF emblazoned on the side.
At that point all was good, though, I really don't know where she got the idea for the silver whistle.

What's fair is fair -- I think

2009-03-22T16:25:00.000-07:00

MOOOOOOMMMM, he's touching my side of the room!!!!!
I can't tell you how many times I probably yelled that, or conversely my brother or sister screamed the phrase about me.
My mother's reaction was normally pretty consistent. She would pause, shake her head and give a great big old sigh. These days, and as we got a little older, we recognized that sigh as the sign that we had better do what she wanted.
The next step was likely to be something unpleasant.
But my young self wasn't quite so smart. I got the unpleasant consequences many times before I even started to learn. I never understood how she could be so unfair and not always side with me.
I mean, my brother, or sister, was the one who had done it. They deserved what they got.
Now as the parent of two little screamers, I understand a little better that you can't just take the side of one or the other.
Since you can't be in all places at once, you never know what really happened.
Little sister likes to run from one room to the other right yelling, "Big sister pinched me?"
The problem, Big sister is at school.
Big sister will sometimes sit in her room and scream at the top of her lungs until we come running only to discover that Little sister is sitting on the floor looking at her wrong.
It doesn't pay to overreact.
I just sigh, shake my head and hope I don't have to resort to anything unpleasant to get them to mind. (By unpleasant I mean time outs of course. Nothing severe. It's just that it all makes my blood pressure rise.)

Queen of the declarative sentence

2009-03-05T16:34:00.002-08:00

"I don't like you daddy!"
Life with my 2-year-old means hearing this phrase almost hourly. I really have to laugh, because within minutes of saying it, Little sister can turn around with the longest eyelashes known to man and bat away all the hard feelings.
It's funny, because she doesn't say it to the Beautiful wife hardly at all. Big sister was the opposite. She and her mom had, and still have, some real knock down, drag out screaming fests.
But Big sister tends to be pretty good for me.
All bets, however, are off if Grandma is anywhere within hearing distance. Then, both sisters like only grandma and everyone else is chopped liver.
Grandma is the cure for all hate with those two.
Little sister has picked up a few other choice phrases as well:
"Fix my TV!" She says this every 15 minutes when Sponge Bob advertises or 30 minutes for Diego.
"I want my mommy (daddy)" she says this to whomever is trying to put her in the car. If it's me, she wants mommy, if it's mommy, she wants daddy. Frankly, I think she is just stalling because she hates being buckled in the car seat.
"I want to talk." This phrase come out whenver the phone rings and is repeated at increasing volumes until you give in. Imagine the confusion of the phone salesman when I hand the phone over to the babbler.
"Get back!" Big sister has this phrase screamed at her constantly because there is some sort of magnet in little sister's back that makes her sister want to push her on the ground, or pick her up.
And finally, "I want my milk!" She says this often, because she would drink milk from sunup to sundown if we'd let her and never eat a morsel of food. So she only gets milk when she gets up or goes to bed.

Superman lives in my shower

2009-02-16T18:04:00.002-08:00

We do our best when we buy new toys to get both girls the same thing or similar things so as to reduce fights.
It doesn't work.
No matter what we do, Little sister always wants what Big sister has -- even if it is identical to her own. Little sister also tends to be the more aggressive of my two children.
Though she is half Big sister's size, Little Sister is a bully.
Little sister will start screaming and we'll run to see what is wrong, she normally has Big sister in a corner -- pinching her, hitting her or otherwise subduing her.
To her credit, Big sister doesn't pick back.
The fighting is normally over a toy -- again, even if it is the exact same one as the one she owns.
So, at Christmas I decided I would buy a present for Little Sister and and Little Sister alone.
It was a Superman punching bag. You know, the kind you punch and it bounces right back up.
I thought maybe she could get some of her aggressions out on something that is meant to be punched.
Of course she doesn't punch the punching bag -- she dances with it. She twirls and dips and even does throws. She loves Superman.
But like all good toys, there will eventually be a fight when Big sister wants to play and Little sister isn't finished.
So I did what I always do. I took it away for a week.
There is no where in the house really big enough to keep Superman, so he now lives in my shower.
Of course it is a little crowded in the mornings -- but it's better than screaming girls.

Here today ... melted tommorow

2009-02-08T16:36:00.000-08:00

It was gone in less than a day.
14 inches of snow practically immobilized our entire area for nearly three days and blanketed the town for more than at week.
But just one day of warm weather and it was all gone. it's a shame too.
Big sister had been waiting for a snow even half that big for two years. It was two years ago the last time we had a snow big enough to go sledding and make a snowman. So we were due.
The came down on a Tuesday night into Wednesday. I wouldn't have even gotten to work if we didn't have a 4x4 vehicle. I came home early and right away we went to the hill at the park to sled.
It was little sister's first real experience sledding. It wasn't a big hit for her. She went down once and stayed down with the beautiful wife. Big sister and I went three more times before the snow started to melt.
The last time we went, Little Sister did get brave and went down a couple of times with me. She really had fun once she realized we could start half way down the hill.
there was one thing little sister really wanted to do though -- she wanted to make a snowman.
Problem is, the snow was too dry. So, we waited a couple of days.
When we finally got around to trying again -- the snow was too wet.
We managed anyway -- but it wasn't the traditional snowman. Rather than making a snowball and rolling it bigger and bigger, we had to pile snow and try to shape into something resembling a snowman.
We didn't do half bad if I must say so myself. But now it's gone -- just three days after we made it and Little sister looked out the door this morning and said, "where did the snowman go?"
Until next year -- or maybe the year after ... she'll have to wait.

100 of everything

2009-01-26T18:11:00.001-08:00

One hundred. It sounds like a lot when you're 6 years old.
It takes a lot to understand the concept of just exactly how much that is. So, kindergarten teachers across the country use the 100th day of school to help their students understand the concept.
I took the afternoon off today to help celebrate this milestone with big sister.
Last week she had created a snowman using 100 cotton balls and on Saturday we decorated one of my undershirts with 100 stamps. She wore the shirt to school. It took a few minutes for the beautiful wife to convince Big sister that, while, yes, it was big enough to be a dress, she had to wear clothes underneath.
It was a pretty cool shirt and a really cool snowman. In fact, the shirt was so cool, they grabbed her and put her on the morning announcements.
The day involved stations in the classroom, manned by parents, where students got to see just how much 100 is. They had 100 pennies, 100 stamps, 100 paper clips, 100 stackable blocks and most importantly 100 snacks.
My favorite part, however, was the end when the teacher gave them a fake $100 bill and asked what they would buy with it if the money was real.
"100 puppies," "1,000 cars," "a hummer."
And big sisters answer -- a bigger house.
If only $100 would buy that.

Don't pee on Dora

2009-01-18T12:50:00.000-08:00

Big sister came potty trained. I don't remember ever really having to worry about how we were going to do it. Just one day, she stopped wearing diapers.
I know, it just seems like that to me because at the time Grandma was watching her five days a week. Grandma did nothing but pay attention to Big sister when they were together and it was very easy on our end.
It was like getting a big raise the day we no longer had to buy diapers. It also came very early on. Big sister was potty trained at about 1-1/2 years old. And boy, was she fascinated with the potty. We had to stop at every potty within walking distance of whatever store or restaurant we were visiting. Often the beautiful wife and I had to each take her because she truthfully wanted to see both bathrooms.
Little sister is a much different story. She's at 2 years and four months and has shown no real interest in potty training. She seems perfectly willing to continue using diapers.
Well, we're tired of using diapers and she's getting too big to change very easily. So last week, the beautiful wife told Little sister that they don't make diapers her size any more. She had her pick out panties -- she picked Dora.
And now we realize we were taking the wrong tack in motivating Little sister. All we really needed to have done was tell her, "Uncle Mark will be really proud of you if you wear big girl panties."
Little sister has always had an infatuation with my little brother -- who is actually about 2 inches taller than me and has a few extra pounds of muscle too. He's also very quiet and kind of shy.
So we've been cracking up all week because the first thing she said when she got home was, "call Mark, I tell him about my Dora panties."
She did finally get ahold of him and talked for about 10 minutes -- and yes Dora panties were the subject of the conversation.

Found her calling

2009-01-11T15:16:00.000-08:00

It was a fight from the beginning.
"NO! daddy, you have to ask them."
No, Big sister, we're not going unless you do the work.
With lip quivering ... "but I don't want to."
So I promised that I would walk up to the door with her, but she had ask ..."
We started with houses of people we know -- the neighbor to the right. She was too shy to say anything, which really made me laugh because we know the neighbor really well and Big sister plays with granddaughter all the time. We made a sale even though no words came out of the little girl's mouth.
The second house was a couple that we wave to every day during the spring, summer and fall as they stroll by in front of our house.
Big sister knocked on the door and mumble,"wwwould, yyyou like to bbbuy, some......"
Luckily, the neighbor saw the form in her hand and was really excited.
The third house and fourth house were witness to slightly braver selling attempts.
Today when we went out, we stopped at the first house, and with a great big smile Big sister belted out ... "Would you like to buy some Girls Scout cookies?"
We've sold 47 boxes in two days, nothing like the 80 or so I'm told her uncle has managed to hock, but all in all a good showing.
If anyone in the Morgan County area (or family outside of that) still needs their yearly fix of Girl Scout cookies feel free to e-mail me your name and phone number and we'll help you with that.

A whole year!

2009-01-04T17:25:00.001-08:00

I know, it's really a week late to do the look back at 2008, but I'm just a few days away from the one year anniversary of this blog.
So, I thought I would do a little ruminating.
It's hard to believe just how much two little girls can grow in a year. As sad as it is, Little sister has lost her baby looks. When I started writing she was still a chubby cheeked grinning baby, now she's a full blown toddler. She speaks in full sentences and does everything her big sister does.
Big sister was a preschooler a year ago. She knew everything back then and now that she's a kindergartner she knows even more.
We've had daddy daughter dates, gone to the museum about 20 times made messes -- with Easter eggs, mud and food.
Little sister went from crosseyed, to the cutest little girl with glasses you've ever seen. She's also gone through six sets of frames. We've gotten as much value as possible out of that warranty we bought.
Big sister has bloomed into a social butterfly -- and with good reason. She's beautiful and sweet and kind to everyone she meets. She loves her Daisy troop and has become a socialite with all the birthday parties.
It hasn't all been good. We've struggled through flooding and the death of my grandma.
Mostly, though, despite the challenges -- 2008 wasn't a bad year. And I have it all chronicled right here.
Here's to a happy 2009.

Making up for lost time

2008-12-13T19:57:00.000-08:00

The last couple of months have been stressful and I've worked a lot of extra hours. I had a few days of vacation left, so I thought I'd make up for lost time.
Here's just a little bit of what I did:
On Thursday night I went to Disney on Ice with the beautiful wife, Big sister and her Daisy troop.

We left straight from kindergarten on Friday to the Children's Museum so that we could go down the Christmas slide.

We hurried from the museum to the Pepsi Coliseum at the state fairgrounds where I started teaching Big sister to ice skate. That was fine until she fell and hit her head. Then it was over. But overall, she did really well. I think she'll get the hang of it -- if we can get her back on the ice that is.

From the Ice Rink to Diva central, we went to Greenwood Park Mall and Libby Lu, where six little girls had their princess fantasies lived out.

Finally this morning we went to wrap presents for families that Big sister's Daisy Troop adopted.

Phewwww....

I've got one more day, then it's back to relaxing work.
Just kidding, I can't imagine a better time than the last three days with my girls.

Sitting on Santa's lap

2008-12-07T17:16:00.000-08:00

I don't remember sitting on Santa's lap. I'm sure I did at some point. I probably told him I wanted Legos or a remote control car or some other toy.
The beautiful wife remembers asking for dolls and Barbies.
My work Christmas party was Thursday. during the party Santa always comes to find out what the children want.
It's funny because they're all so excited when he walks in the door. This year he was a little late, so the anticipation was higher than normal.
We had gotten a camcorder during the crazy Thanksgiving sales (OK, the beautiful wife did it, I was asleep in bed), so I pulled it out and got it ready.
They called Little Sister's name and she went up to Santa, and started screaming. Big sister took the package and walked it back to mommy and the sniffling toddler. The crying stopped as soon as she realized the present was for her. It was a big baby doll, which she has played with nonstop since.
Next it was Big sister's turn. Now, I was proud at what she had asked Santa to bring her to the party. It wasn't typical 6-year-old stuff, no, but it showed her excitement for learning -- she wanted a math activity book.
You could tell from the wrapping, that was what she had gotten.
All that was left was for her to sit on Santa's lap and tell him what she wanted on Christmas morning.
"A baby doll, a CD player, CD holder and ... a stapler."
A stapler? What does a 6-year-old need with a stapler?
Oh well, to each her own. I'm sure someone will get her a red Swingline or something. I just hope she doesn't staple her eye out -- or worse Little sister's eye.

Happy Birthday to me!!

2008-12-01T16:44:00.004-08:00

I turned 32 years old on Sunday.
You know you're getting older when all you get for your birthday is a mixed CD. And, you know what, it's one of the better gifts I've gotten in a while.
I must preface this blog by clarifying that I requested no presents for my birthday this year. It's so close to Christmas and we're trying to save for a trip to Disney World for our 10th anniversary. I would just rather us save the money. Besides I'm at that point in life where I don't really need much I don't have.
The beautiful wife was a little upset that I told her no gifts. But she honored the request and put the money she had saved for it into the vacation pot.
So, when we got up, I got a kiss and a "happy birthday." My children of course didn't really even know it was my birthday because I hadn't talked about it at all.
But when my father-in-law got in the Envoy to go to church he gave me a sly smile and popped a CD in the player.
At first I just gave him a weird look because he never plays music while we're all in the car. In fact, we always turn off the radio.
When Stevie Wonder began playing I really didn't understand -- that's just not his style of music.
But then I realized it was a happy birthday song.
He had spent hours Saturday night putting together a mixed CD with happy birthday songs. The best one was a personalized song he had found at a Web site that included my name.

Charlie Brown lessons

2008-11-25T17:33:00.000-08:00

My children have always been well spoken. We've never talked to them with baby talk. I think that for the most part The beautiful wife and I have taught them to communicate very well.
At 3 years old, Big sister tripped in a hole in the yard, looked up at us and said, "this yard is not conducive to running."
At her two-year check up, the doctor asked if Little sister talks in two and three word sentences. We had to laugh, she tends to talk in five and six word sentences. "Daddy, I want my chocolate milk," is one of her favorite sentences.
All this isn't leading up to me telling you how smart they are because they can talk, though.
The point is, we think we communicate with them very well.
So, we had to laugh when we were watching the Thanksgiving Charlie Brown. Big sister asks, "why do the adults sound like, 'wah wah wah wah?'"
The beautiful wife explained that it is representative of how children and adults don't understand each other very well and that often, that is what children hear when adults talk.
"I just hear, 'do this, do that, do this,'" Big sister said.
And now I'm thinking, if that's all I heard, I suppose it would eventually begin to sound like, "Wah, wah, wah, wahwahwah." In fact I know it does.
Maybe we need to rethink the way we talk to our children.

A new exercise

2008-11-19T16:22:00.001-08:00

I have various pieces of exercise equipment in the garage -- free weights, Total Gym, medicine ball, punching bag. Nothing I have found, however, is any better at keeping me in shape than using a 50 pound weight named Big Sister and a smaller one named Little Sister.
They are the perfect size right now to give me the right amount of resistance.
Push ups with Little Sister on my back are challenging, but give it that extra burn. Big sister is the perfect size to walk on my back and also to stretch out my legs.
They have a lot of fun doing it too. I'm just a big jungle gym to them.
After a while that gets a little boring, just doing pushups and such. So the other day, after cleaning the garage, I realized the Total Gym has a bunch of pulleys and ropes.
I hooked up the pulleys and ropes to a hook in the rafters. Then I found a harness for Big Sister and we have a new exercise machine. Only this machine allows the sisters to fly like Peter Pan from the ceiling.
I know, it sounds dangerous, but there's nothing around for them to run into and the ropes and everything are in sound condition. I don't think I'd do it once the are past 70 or so pounds, but for now ...
There is one problem. I'm not in as good a shape as I should be, or would like to think I am.
After the first time using the sister machine, I was just a little sore and didn't think a whole lot of it.
But after I did it on Tuesday, I can hardly move my arm above my waist.
Flying might keep them young, but without a lot more building up, it's tearing me down.

Daddies don't do hair

2008-11-15T17:59:00.000-08:00

Dad used a lot of straw for the pigs. On all that straw was a lot of twine. In fifth or sixth grade I took that twine and braided it into a big huge whip like the one Indiana Jones used.
My cousin Jason made fun of me when he caught me braiding the twine one day.
But I think it must have been good training. I'm not perfect by any means, but I can do my girls' hair if need be.
And every Sunday morning, I have too get them ready for church. The beautiful wife made the sacrifice shortly after Little sister was born of working weekends. She works Saturday, Sunday and Monday in exchange for being off four days a week. It's a pretty good deal, but she really misses going to church with us -- and helping get the girls ready on Sunday morning.
At first it was hard and we barely made it out the door on time to pick up grandma and grandpa.
But now we have it down to a science.
My alarm goes off, I hit snooze (OK, I hit snooze twice) and then I get Big sister dressed and do her hair. Somedays it's a simple pony tail, other days I have to curl it and help her put it up in or bun or some other hairstyle.
She really doesn't ask for much from me. In fact it was only recently that she even let me touch her hair.
But Little sister will let me try all kinds of things. I even figured out how to french braid. I still need some practice on that one. My fingers are just a little too big I think.
I get it done though and I have to think that my time making Indiana Jones bullwhips didn't hurt. Who knows, maybe somebody up there was helping me prepare for two little girls in my future.

Time flies when you're scared

2008-11-07T18:21:00.000-08:00

Yes, I am a week behind. I have had every intention of blogging more than once this week. But between preparing for the election and trying to catch up from spending 24 hours at work on Tuesday I never found the time.
Here's what you missed:
In case it's hard to tell from the back angle they went as Dorothy and the Wicked Witch of the West.
I tried to convince them to dress little sister as a flying monkey, but I was out voted.
Next year's costumes are already planned: Big sister will be Supergirl and she wants me to dress as Superman.
I think I can pull it off. An editor I used to work for always told me I looked like Clark Kent.
Of course I'm missing a few of the signature traits like a square jaw, blue eyes, big muscles and of then there's that flying thing.
I can't fly.
But I can wear my underwear on the outside of my clothes. So I guess that will have to do.

12:30 a.m.

2008-10-29T11:53:00.000-07:00

When I was little my mom and grandma had a tape that they would send back and forth. Grandma Dodd lived in Michigan and at the time long distance was expensive.
so, we would send this tape back and forth with recordings of our voices. I don't have any idea what we talked about. It might have been the weather or how much we missed each other.
I think I remember grandpa reading me books sometimes.
At some point that tradition went by the wayside. I can't recall when or why, but sometime in high school, after grandpa Dodd passed away, I found one of those tapes.
I listened to it and ended up just a puddle of tears thinking about all the good times we had, playing superman and going to the tridge.
In more recent years cell phones have made sending tapes back and forth rather unnecessary. You can hit one button and the person is on the other end.
For a long time I called grandma just about every other week. She resided in an assisted living facility in Anderson close to my mom and I should have gone to visit more often.
But it was easier to pick up the phone.
For the first few years things were like they always had been. We talked about life and she always assured me everything would work out. And she always ended the conversation.
"Brian, I love you."
And I would always say "I love you grandma."
As the years wore on, the talks got shorter and shorter and eventually consisted of me telling her about the girls. She didn't have much to say.
I don't even know when it was that she finally stopped really being the woman I grew up with and loved, but somewhere in there she gave up. So, when they diagnosed her with cancer for at least the third time in her life in February we all kind of knew it was over. They gave her less than a year to live sometime in June.
I still called her on and off, but not as much as before.
The last time I saw grandma she was in a nursing home bed this summer. I'm not sure she knew who I was and she definitely didn't know my girls. She looked at Little sister and said, my daughter's "granddaughter has glasses."
Now I wish I had more tapes of our conversations. I wish I could go back and hear her voice again. I wish I had gone to see her more.
But it's too late.
She died this morning at 12:30.

A jump on things

2008-10-25T18:11:00.000-07:00

Guess what I did today.

Bounce, bounce, bounce

2008-10-23T18:09:00.000-07:00

I don't normally endorse anything or mention businesses or products, but tonight I had one of the most fun hours I've had as a parent.
Several months ago we went to a place where you can play games and bounce in giant inflatables. Of course at this place the children can go in and you have to just sort of watch them and hope they come out the other side.
We had heard about a place a while ago called Pump it Up Party, but not really thought about it. Well, Big sister asked the other day to go back to the giant inflatable place and it decided it was time to try the Pump it Up Party.
All I can say is WOW!
Yes, it was $14 for the two girls and we got there late, so we spent that for an hour, but I'm not sure I could have done two hours.
The adults can go on these inflatables, which meant the beautiful wife and I got to slide down the slides and race the girls through the obstacle course. I got to help Little sister dunk a basketball.
Big sister got to climb a climbing wall and she got all the way to the top.
We're all exhausted now. What a great time.
http://www.pumpitupparty.com/

Nodding off

2008-10-20T18:15:00.000-07:00

With few exceptions, especially since school started, bedtime is 9 p.m. Big sister can argue all she wants, once the little hand hits the nine and the big hand is straight up, it's time to go down.
But she has recently wanted to be rocked right before bedtime because she knows we rock little sister to sleep.
So, we ask her about 15 minutes ahead of time if she wants to go rock. She always says yes. During that time I tell her stories and we talk about her day at school and other things.
Having had a few hard days at work last week, I nodded off a few times during our rock time, which upset big sister greatly. I mean, after all, that is her time.
The beautiful wife asked Big sister if it was time to rock. She said yes, but only if you do it mommy.
Rocking big sister to sleep isn't exactly the beautiful wife's cup of tea -- "you make my legs go to sleep," she said.
"Yes," big sister said, "but daddy's head goes to sleep."

Apple of my eye

2008-10-15T17:37:00.000-07:00

I was born on an apple orchard. Well maybe not actually on the orchard, but I spent the first two years of my life there at least.
After dad died mom remarried and moved away, but all through childhood we kept going back to the orchard. Of course my church had an apple festival there every year, which always took us out there many many times.
Many of my best memories revolve around those experiences -- collecting apples for applesauce, which my mom made and canned to have all year long; make pies for a pie contest, and competing with my dad in those contests; cider, unpasteurized, which you can't find anywhere anymore.
So, when the beautiful wife suggested six years ago that we should go to the orchard in her hometown and create a family tradition, I certainly didn't argue.
It's only fitting that my daughters should have the same pleasant memories and feelings about apples and picking them.
Hopefully they will always remember playing hide and seek in the trees and having papaw lift them up to grab that apple above his head. And we will never forget Big sister chasing the apple down the hill.
This year's time was a little warmer than normal and the trees were bare, but memories were still made. I can't wait until next year.

Battle wounds

2008-10-10T18:52:00.000-07:00

It's been a hard week at work. We switched computers and upgraded software, meaning that everything this took about 15 minutes longer.
I was feeling particularly rushed and frustrated around noon today, trying to hurry, but not mess up so that I could get home in time to take the beautiful wife and girls to the store.
I had just finished telling the beautiful wife that I likely wouldn't get home in time so I wanted to try and surprise her.
There was no need.
The phone rang and showed my home number. "Hello, I just thought you should know I'm going to the hospital," she said very nonchalantly. At first I was just a little confused because she's been spending a lot of time taking her mom and aunt back and forth recently anyway. so the next sentence was a shock.
Little Sister "needs some stitches."
What?!
At that point I realized there would be no shopping trip, but no the sense of urgency was a little different.
I knew there was no way I'd get done in time to actually be any help, but I still wanted to get home.
Once there, Little Sister came bounding around the corner like nothing had happened, "DADDYYYY."
The Bandaid didn't look too big or scary. So we played, had dinner and went about our business.
It wasn't until right before bed that I actually got to see the wound.
Not too bad for a first trip to our town's newly opened ER.

Oh yeah, I can't forget the best part. The glasses she just got on Wednesday? Mangled. Not so bad that they couldn't be repaired, but it figures.

Let the terribleness begin

2008-10-01T18:26:00.000-07:00

One day our baby is a baby. The next she's hit the terrible two's.
Tuesday was Little Sister's second birthday. She got all kinds of toys of her own. For all her life she has mostly been content to play with Big Sister's babies. Now she has her own.
I got her a remote control car -- OKmaybe that was really for me.
But as a gift, she got herself an attitude and I'm not sure that the beautiful wife or I approve.
On her first full day as a two-year-old, Little Sister climbed on a stool and jumped off nearly busting her head open in the process; colored the TV with a crayon; ate part of a tube of foot cream; broke her glasses; ran around the table like a fool screaming during dinner instead of eating.
Just so no one is concerned -- she didn't bust her head open, the crayon did come off and poison control said that the foot cream shouldn't cause her any harm.
And yes, her glasses probably needed replaced anyway, and anyone who knows us has heard us say that she doesn't eat anyway.
I'm not sure that terrible two's really describes this time of life very well. With big sister, I think the difficult times were really from about 2-1/2 to 4.
Little sister started about two months ago and chose today to really show off her terribleness.
Though, to be honest, neither of our children is or ever has been that terrible, despite a few moments or days of bad behavior.
I think the next few months and years will be very interesting if not frustrating.

The evil box

2008-09-27T19:39:00.000-07:00

"Turn off that TV and go outside!"
Those words were spoken often in my house while I was growing up. I would turn it off, wait for mom to leave the room and turn it back on.
I'm lucky I'm alive. Now, as a parent, I understand how frustrating such disobedience is.
And it seems as if the TV multiplies the episodes of uncooperative behavior.
"Big sister! Big sister! Are you listening to me? Go take this to your room now!"
That is a common series of sentences that are spoken right now as the child stares blankly at Sponge Bob for the third consecutive hour.
She simply doesn't want to do anything but stare at the boob tube. I decided last week to try an experiment.
For several years now the beautiful wife and I have used a bead system to reward good behavior. We start with a jar full of beads and give her a reward of two or three beads for being good. When she gets all the way through the beads, she gets to pick her reward.
So far, it has worked pretty well.
I decided to make a little bet with Big Sister. She was already almost through her beads, but has been having trouble getting the last 15-20 over.
With a little goading, I bet her that she couldn't go for an entire week without turning on the TV. By going the whole week, I would move all the beads over and she could have the microphone she had been striving to earn for the last three or four months.
We made a couple of little exceptions for her. She loves Dancing with the Stars, so we let her watch that., but otherwise she went the entire week.
It really didn't seem to be all that hard for her. I'm not sure she even missed the TV, she just found other things to do.
She was better behaved too! Now I just have to find ways to convince her to watch less all the time.

Golf ball with legs

2008-09-24T17:26:00.000-07:00

I sort of snickered when my beautiful wife first made the nearly hysterical phone call Tuesday.
"I am not kidding you, there was a spider the size of a golf ball under the bed," she said. I tried not to laugh because I couldn't tell if she was kidding.
She likes the dramatic -- which is one of the reasons I love her.
"I chased it back under the bed with a broom, but I couldn't get rid of it."
After dinner I went into the bedroom with the flashlight. I poked around a while looking for brown hairy lumps that move. I didn't see anything, so I pulled the mattress and box spring off the frame. Of course in the process I knocked a candle holder off the wall sending broken glass shards across the room. If there was an arachnid under there, I surely scared it away.
I moved everything around ... nothing. I put the room back together and spent half an hour or so cleaning of glass, but no spider.
I've seen wolf spiders the size of a quarter and bigger in the backyard. Nothing to be scared of, so I kind of forgot about it.
I didn't exactly think my beautiful wife was crazy, but I assumed she was trying to pull my chain a little.
So today at supper she looked at me with the mischievous grin and I knew I was going to have to apologize before a whisper passed her lips.
"Guess what the little girl at the bus stop told me today," she said. The neighbor boy "lost something. He lost a spider -- a tarantula to be exact."
Not sure if I should be scared, I kind of held my breath as she went on -- "he said it's not poisonous and I promised I wouldn't tell his parents."
I'm glad she has bonded with the neighbor boy, but that still doesn't solve the problem of a golf-ball sized spider with huge fangs possibly lurking in corners around our house.
The next hour was spent shining a flashlight under and around all the furniture.
It's possible the thing found an opening and left of its own accord, but the fact remains that we still don't know if there might be a big, hairy eight-legged thing somewhere in our humble abode.
Anyone mind switching houses for a few days?

Truck time

2008-09-22T19:10:00.000-07:00

I'd known about touch a truck day in the park for weeks. We passed the sign on the park marquee every day and someone would remind me that we needed to go to that because Little sister loves trucks -- especially the trash truck.
And yet, somehow, at 1:30 p.m. on Saturday I put Little Sister down for a nap. I called the beautiful wife who said, "but I thought you were going to take her to touch a truck?"
Oh NO!!!
I let her sleep a little while because I had until 3 p.m. I got up a little prematurely at 2:30 and rushed her and Big sister into the wagon with promises of touching trucks. I ran the entire way and made it to the park huffing and puffing, trying not to have an asthma attack.
The trucks were still there -- most importantly the Ray's Trash truck was running, and ready to go, but hadn't pulled out yet.
Little sister got to see how the truck works and both girls got to sit in the driver's seat of several large vehicles.
All in all, not a bad day.

Friday night lights

2008-09-14T17:30:00.000-07:00

Football season is my favorite. Partially it's because it happens in the fall. Good things have always happened to me in the fall. In fact, with the exception of getting married in June, the best things have happened in the fall (both my girls were born in September, one technically in the summer, but right at the beginning of football season.)
As an infant Big sister was a huge football fan too. We watched a lot of Colts games together. Of course she was mostly asleep on my chest for those. Over the years she has become less and less of a fan, in part because my games interrupt her TV watching.
There's always something she wants to see right at the time the Colts, or Purdue or some other game comes on.
So, I was really surprised when she suggested that we go to the high school football game on Friday. I used to go to the games all the time as a photographer, but had gotten away from that in the last two years.
It was one of the more enjoyable times we've had together recently. She sat on my lap and asked questions about the game, which I answered -- though I'm not sure she understood what was going on even after the explanations.
Her biggest thrill was watching the helicopter for a local TV station take off from the field behind the stands after halftime.
I don't know if she had a good enough time to suggest going again, but I hope so.

Milestone birthday

2008-09-06T18:09:00.000-07:00

I took an entire week off. I turned off the phone (well at least I ignored). I told my staff not to call me unless the world was ending.
I did all of this because my baby was turning 6 years old today. It's a big milestone for Big sister and I wasn't missing it. We got up every morning and got her ready for school and walked her to the bus stop. I went each day to pick her up from school and helped make her lunch.
Oh yeah, and I did several projects around the house. But mostly I spent a week enjoying the last couple of days of my baby's final moments as a 5-year-old.
And today was certainly a good capper to that week. The beautiful wife was off work too and she planned a play date with Big sister's friends at the park as well as a special birthday dinner with the family.
I think it was the most enjoyable birthday we've had. We involved fewer people at a time (my mom and dad came down on Thursday), so everyone got more quality minutes with each of us.
But best of all, we told everyone to tone down the presents. We got only a couple of things that we will have to find homes for in Big sister's room.
The cake was good too. I know Little sister enjoyed it.

It looks like her

2008-08-27T17:13:00.000-07:00

It's funny how we build our identities. Some of who we are is likely ingrained. I say this because I never met my father, he died when I was 2 years old, yet people who knew him are often struck with how much I act like him.
My mom tells me this all the time.
But I believe a large part of it also depends on environment. It's hard to make any generalities, because Little sister was a baby when she got glasses, but I have noticed that both girls tend to want baby dolls that look like them. Little Sister just exemplified this thought the other day when the beautiful wife and I went to pick her up at grandmas.
The baby she was pushing around had glasses on its face. Just six months ago when we were struggling to keep the frames on her face, who would have thought that, today, she would identify herself as a girl with glasses.
I don't know what this means exactly, but it was a cool observation (mostly the beautiful wife's, I sort of stole this one from her.)

My little gymnast

2008-08-18T17:31:00.000-07:00

Olympic fever has infected my house even though the majority of the action happens after Big sister's bed time. She still sees all the highlights on the news and wants to mimic the tumbling, jumping, flipping pixies on the TV.
I've not been immune either. I don't jump around the living room, but I've spent a few late nights waiting to see Michael Phelps win eight gold medals.
But those who really enjoy the games have made a makeshift gymnasium in our living room. The cushion from the couch in the back of the house is a running board and a tumbling mat, which big sister uses to cushion her fall.
I'm just hoping the ottoman doesn't become a vault. And it might not be terribly safe if the hallway became a 100 meter track.
Being a former track participant, I wouldn't be upset if our yard turned into a track or long jump pit. It would be nice if we could move it outdoors.
I love the Olympics.

Last day of freedom

2008-08-13T19:15:00.001-07:00

I just kissed big sister good night for the last time as a preschooler. Of course it's an hour later than normal because she's so wound up. I guess she's just like me. I know I can't sleep the night before a big event.
And what bigger event, other than graduating from school, is there than starting school.
Until now, our days have consisted of finding ways to entertain big sister. Ways to keep her from picking at her sister, but most of all enjoying every minute of her innocence.
Right now she believes every word we tell her of, "you're beautiful. You're smart. You're one of the most wonderful people in the world."
She really is all of those things in my opinion, but now she will encounter all the world has to throw at her. She's already had a small taste of the cruelty of other kids. At kindergarten camp, and tennis camp and I think she said one day at the park, there is a little boy who likes to tell her she's ugly -- and he gets to sit next to her in class.
I heard the little boy at tennis camp. He told every person who missed the ball when they swung at it, how horrible they were.
As an adult I can ignore that, but it's harder for a little kid.
Big sister will also get to start experiencing all the wonders the world has to offer. She can already recognize letters, numbers and write her name. Soon, she will be able to read. Once that happens, she will change tremendously.
It will be a long 12 years and I intend to make it last as long as I can. The first six years definitely have gone too quickly.

Dog candy driveway

2008-08-09T18:32:00.000-07:00

The other day, after I finished a blog the beautiful wife asked me to look up sidewalk paint. She wasn't going to go spend an arm and a leg when she could make it for a fraction of the cost.
I didn't argue with her, because how can you argue with a person who wants to save our hard earned money.
The recipe called for food coloring, corn starch and water. Wow, that's easy, and you should see the cool art they created.

There's only one drawback. Our driveway is now attracting random dogs. Several people have had to stop for a few minutes while their dogs sniffed, then licked at the art decorating our drive.
this morning when I got up and went out to get the newspaper a neighborhood dog was sitting there with a green tongue, evidently taking a short break from tasting the concrete.
You wouldn't think it would be all that appealing. I know I've tasted cornstarch before when I was cooking, I wouldn't lick it off the ground. But then, I wouldn't eat poop either.

But there's candy

2008-08-06T18:20:00.001-07:00

Lately Little sister has been afraid of loud noises. The vacuum sends her to the rocking chair in her room. The lawnmower the other day had her cowering in the dog cage in the garage.
So, we weren't sure how she would handle a parade with sirens and band and a multitude of blaring noises.
We got to our spot about a half hour early. We put up our chairs and tried to keep her out of the road.
Then, in the distance we heard the first sirens. They got louder and Louder and LOUDER, until the chief of police, who is also my neighbor, pulled up and stopped right in front of us. He and his wife waved at us, pulled out a sucker and tossed it at her feet.
There was a pause, since she was still a little stunned by the noise, but it was candy at her feet!
She was hooked. Little sister didn't go at it quite like Big sister, who was racing the boys next to us for Tootsie Rolls and Jolly Ranchers, but she held her own.
Big sister was helping her too, by putting two or three pieces of candy in her bag every now and then. Of course, it all goes in the same bucket when we get home.
I'm sure Little sister will still some fear of loud noises, but at least we know we can go to parades.

Fluff and fold

2008-08-03T01:28:00.001-07:00

I like to separate the laundry by shirts and pants, underwear and socks and by person. I put everything in piles and then I fold the folding clothes and hang the others.
I'm not really too particular, but I do like things a certain way, it saves a lot of trouble in the end because I'm able to walk from one room to the next and just put away clothes without having to resort them out of the basket.
So, it takes a little bit for me to let go and let the little ones help me when I fold clothes -- though the beautiful wife would likely argue I don't do laundry often enough for this to be a real issue.
Big sister is actually pretty good at folding clothes these days, but is past that helpful stage when she wants to spend every second doing exactly what mommy and daddy are doing. The call of Sponge Bob has become too great.
But Little sister still wants to be of service. The second you put the laundry basket down, she is there, pulling clean clothes out, rummaging through for her stuff and throwing it all on the floor. This is one good reason for sweeping before you do laundry. Who wants dog hair all over their nice clean clothes.
The best part, what makes it all worth the trouble is the look on Little sister's face when she does help. She is still so eager to please that when you tell her, "thank you," it's almost blissful.
Suddenly it doesn't matter that her idea of folding is rolling up my dress shirt in a ball and throwing it on top the pile I just folded.
In fact, I tell her thank you every time she puts a new item freshly "folded" onto the pile, just so I can see her face again.

An ocean in my bathroom

2008-07-28T17:02:00.000-07:00

When I get up in the morning, I stumble into the bathroom and turn on the water in the shower. I don't even bother turning on the light. If I didn't feel grimy and smell funky, I think bathing would probably come second to an extra 10-15 minutes of sleep.
It's an afterthought.
How I long for the days when taking a bath or a shower was an adventure. Believe me I've tried to pretend I'm a pirate pillaging the south seas, but it just doesn't seem to be as exciting for me as it does for my little girls.
I have to smile as big sister says, "here comes a big wave, don't let it tip over your sailboat!" Of course the smile includes a half grimace as the wave eclipses the edge of the tub soaks the bathmat on the other side.
Oh well, I guess that's why we have dryers.
The other difference between them and me is how we view empty soap and shampoo bottles. I see them as something I kick aside and think, "I really should take that to the recycling." They see them as squirt guns.
Walk into the bathroom without peeking around the corner cautiously and you're likely to get caught by the child hiding just under the edge of the tub in wait.
Again, a smile, with just a half grimace. You have to admire the creativity, but the mess -- who really wants to clean it up?

Big eyes, empty bellies

2008-07-26T17:35:00.000-07:00

I often wonder how either of my children manages to grow. The beautiful wife and I put food on their plates and more often than not throw away just as much as we served them.
But they continue to grow like weeds.
Little sister just keeps getting taller and is starting to get hard to carry around. (Which is all right because she would rather walk anyway.)
Big sister needs new shoes and clothes every three to four months as quickly as she shoots up.
We've tried a lot of things to get them to clean their plates.
-- Had them help fix the food: big sister loves to cook, but is just plain unadventurous when it comes to eating.
-- Let them pick their meals: They still just pick and we end up just spending a lot of extra time making their food because we still want to eat things with taste. Hotdogs and hambugers for every meal is just plain boring.
-- Tell them they can't get up until the food is gone: they just sit there and play and whine around until we just give up and put them to bed.

Recently we let Little sister dish her own food, not really because we thought she would eat it, but because we weren't watching. Next thing you know her plate is heaping.

She played around for a while, gabbed at her sister, watched some Spongebob and then walked away to do something else. Her plate looked like this when she was done.

And yes, the two photos really were taken at two different times.
I'm not sure when or what, but they must be eating, because, as I said, they keep growing like weeds.

Swatting balls

2008-07-15T18:52:00.000-07:00

The time is growing near that our little girl will stop being so little. But right now we're just focusing on the newest camp -- tennis camp.
It's really cute to see all the little kids out there swinging at the balls. It's funny seeing the adults hack around like blind lumberjacks. Don't get me wrong, some of them are really good, but others need to just give it up.
And don't worry, I'm under no illusion about which group I belong in.
Big sister on the other hand is actually pretty good for a five-year-old. Yes, she has some things to work on, but she's got good form (at least that's what the coach told the beautiful wife).
We've been working for several weeks on tennis. She bought me a bucket balls for father's day and I made the commitment to come home early every Wednesday to play with her. I don't know if she enjoys tennis or spending time with me, but we have a good hour or two together, just me and her every week.
No, she's not going to be the next Venus or Serena Williams (you never know, I suppose), but just maybe we'll have something we can talk about 10 years from now when everything else I do is just embarrassing.

The dog ate my computer

2008-06-16T18:14:00.000-07:00

I don't really have a good excuse for not blogging since June 1. I could say, "I've been busy at work." "Storms washed away my computer." "There's been nothing interesting going on."
I could tell the truth and say that the computer screen on the laptop I bought in November stopped work, but even that isn't a good excuse for ignoring my five loyal readers.
The blog bug simply hasn't been hitting me.
But here I am, and I should probably update you all on the yard sale that really wasn't. We wanted to make around $300.
We made a little over $100. The second and third day got rained out. We thought about doing it again the next weekend -- we even advertised it.
Sorry for anyone who drove by, but we didn't follow through. After seeing what people in Martinsville were going through, having lost everything in the floods, we couldn't stand by.
The beautiful wife and I packed all the baby clothes and everything baby up in the Envoy, drove it down to a church and it.
We can only hope that it is helping someone who lost it all get back on their feet.
People will continue to need clothes -- especially when school starts up again -- so feel free to contact me if you would like to help and need to know how. (email is culp3@mac.com.)

We're going saleing

2008-06-01T16:18:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, we cleaned the closets, cleared out the attic and had a garage sale. We made enough money to buy Big sister a new bed.
We had extra space in the house and a little extra cash in our pocket -- at least enough to buy the loft bed Big sister wanted. Now, it's two years later and our closets are again cluttered the attic is stuffed full and we have so much stuff that we can't park the cars in the garage.
Time again for a yard sale.
Okay, so the attic is actually empty, but that's because everything from up there is stuffed in the garage in preparation for the sale, which is actually going to be a porch sale this year.
Thanks to the hard work of my beautiful and diligent wife, all the baby clothes, kid toys, dryer and other miscellaneous items are priced and categorized.
The goal of the sale this year is again to Big sister's benefit as it's time to redo her room. when we moved to the sweetest street in town, we did her room in fairies and princesses. She's getting ready for kindergarten and she thinks she needs something a little more mature. She's torn between stripes, circles, squares or dots -- whatever that means. And she wants every color under the sun on the walls.
The hope is that we'll be able to keep our consumer impulses under control and manage to keep the closets clean.
Though I'm sure two or three years from now, we'll look at our attic and wonder why we can't fit anything more up there and decided it's time again. (Yes, I know selling things for pennies on the dollar just make a few bucks to redo a room really doesn't make good fiscal sense. Still, if you're in our neighborhood this Thursday, Friday or Saturday, you should stop by and help us redecorate big sister's room.)

Preschool blues

2008-05-21T17:31:00.000-07:00

No actual tears were shed during the making of this blog, but many were choked back and sniffled up into the recesses of my and my beautiful wife's sinuses.
We've been dreading this day for most of a year -- the moment when our little girl goes from being a preschooler to a kindergartner. The process began a couple of weeks ago when she went to kindergarten roundup. They processed her and tested her and determined that she knew enough to start school next year without any extra work during the summer.
Since then big sister has been counting down the days, knowing that today would be the last day she got to see her preschool friends. We've been counting it down, both excited for our daughter and sad to see her growing up.
So dropping her off in the classroom one last time and leaving big sister was very hard. It was also very cute. They lined the five-year-olds up and put little mortarboards on their heads. Sent them up the aisle of the church to sing some songs and then gave them each a diploma "allowing them to go to kindergarten."
All four grandparents showed up to listen to her sing in several languages and show off her counting skills.
She got some money from one set of grandparents and a new beach towel from the other set. I got her flowers and the beautiful wife got her a new set of curlers to make her hair pretty for the special day.
Again, I didn't see any actual tears today, but they were there.
They were there in the corner of my eyes, in the corner of my wife's eyes and I'm pretty sure there a few in the eyes of big sister.
She's not ready to grow up either.
Maybe, just for the summer, we can pretend she's not growing up. But I'll bet that at the end of the break, there will be some real honest to God tears hit the floor.

May madness

2008-05-14T19:00:00.000-07:00

Some say March is mad with all its basketball, but I think May is really the maddest of all months. It's at least the busiest.
Unfortunately, the beautiful wife and the sisters don't get to see me as much with all that's going on. And of course I don't get to see them as much as I'd like.
I get a lot of hurried conversations during the day with some screaming in the background. Often big sister will answer the phone and say "daddy, what are you doing?"
It's cute, because that's about all she'll say to me, but when she gets on the phone with grandma, big sister will talk forever. Tonight she talked for 40 minutes nonstop with grandma.
Despite the rushing around I do try to find time. The other day we took advantage of the warm weather and I taught her the little bit I know about soccer and tennis. Mostly we kick the ball back and forth on the sidewalk and then beat the garage door in with tennis balls -- until the ball went sailing over the neighbors fence that is.
Now the month is about ready to really get going -- with graduations to cover and Memorial Day and a couple of photo shoots I have set up, I just hope I can keep big sister from thinking I've abandoned her.
At least June brings a week's vacation. Maybe then we'll get to do some catching up.

A dirty story

2008-05-07T18:09:00.000-07:00

Everyone likes ice cream, well maybe not everyone, but most people do. In my case, though, the craving is a little deeper. I know, my aunt told me so.
My grandpa had to have a bowl of vanilla ice cream every night. And so, she says, do most of the people in my family. I know the gene didn't skip me. I have to close my eyes every time I open the freezer.
I've passed on the gene. Big sister would eat ice cream after every meal if we'd let her. Any chance she gets, she asks for Dairy Queen. Usually when we go, she asks for a chocolate covered cherry Blizzard. Partially, that has always been one of the few options because she refuses to eat the cones on the ice cream cones.
Recently that changed. And now we have another reason not to order the dessert in cones.

That's right, before it was all over, we had to put big sister in the shower to clean up. It's been almost two weeks since I took this photo and there's still chocolate ice cream on the inside of my shower curtain. I don't know why it won't just wash off -- I do shower every day in there.

All fun and games

2008-04-23T18:28:00.000-07:00

It's a cruel cruel thing, but it's something we have to do.
Everybody gets in the car and I drop Big sister and the beautiful wife off at a store down the block.
Little sister is upset, but gets happy when she see the toys sitting on the ground of the room we enter.
Some lady asks daddy questions while she throws a small soccer ball across the room.
A little boy who was in the room begins to play hide and seek with her. They're both giggling and having a great time.
How cute, she's made a friend.
But then a woman comes out and says, "Joshua?"
His mother picks him up and our children wave goodbye to each other.
Little sister goes on with her playing, picking up the next child who walks in the door. She seems to either not notice, or is ignoring, the screams coming from the other room.
The little boy comes out sniffling. It seems a shame, they were all in such a good mood.
Then it's her turn. The nurse comes out and calls our name.
I walk Little sister into the room behind the curtain. I'm instructed to lay her on her back and talk to her.
With the first shot, surprise registers on her face. The second prick elicits a whimper. And then, finally, the third shot does it -- she busts out with a big scream.
It's enough to break a daddy's heart.
But it has to be done.
At least she doesn't have to get anymore for another four years almost.

The grass is greener

2008-04-16T19:06:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a little foray into the unknown is all it takes to discover just how good you actually have it. The beautiful wife and I got some experience with this phenomenon during the last couple of months.
It all started on Valentine's day. We went out for a nice dinner at Buca di Beppo's, leaving the children behind. We got to talking about an open house we had looked at in the fall. We weren't really thinking of moving then. Touring open houses is just something we do for fun every now and then. I suppose it's a little bit of voyeurism.
Anyway, the house had gone back up on the market and we thought, "why not?"
We called the Real Estate agent and scheduled a showing. The two of us got excited thinking about the possibility of moving into a bigger house. It built and built until we got someone to look at the wiring and realized it was a bad deal. We backed out, but went ahead and put our house up for sale, thinking we would find another house and maybe things would work out.
We did find another house. One that we both really liked. The girls liked it too.
The sellers accepted a first-right offer and all we had to do was sit back and wait for someone to purchase our house for the right price.
We both knew full well it was unlikely to work out. But boy, were the last two months stressful.
I'm not sure if we wanted to move or not.
What I do know is the relief that I felt when the sellers called and asked for a release from the deal because they had another offer.
Phewwww. Now we can go ahead and just live again because we are the proud owners of the brand new house we already own.

She's growing up

2008-04-09T18:39:00.001-07:00

Today is a sad, but exciting day.

Big Sister went to kindergarten roundup.

I know it's just one day, the big day doesn't come until August when she actually starts school. But this is the beginning. And it's exciting.

This is the start of my little girl growing up. Before you know it, we'll be going to school plays, music recitals and basketball games.

We'll get to help her as she learns to read, tell time and add and subtract.

But this is also the end. And it's sad.

From now on our days will revolve around waiting for Big Sister to get home from school before we can play. We will be relegated to taking vacations during the same crowded times that every one else takes them.

But most of all, it means she is growing up. She's not just my baby anymore. In no time at all she'll be driving, then dating and going off to college.

Yes, it's the natural order of things and I have to accept it.

Just toying with you

2008-04-07T18:51:00.000-07:00

One of the best part of going to grandma's house as a child was playing with the toys. She had toys that we only saw once or twice a year, so they were always new.
Lincoln Logs, Tinker toys and an electric football game all waited for use -- not to mention the pool table.
We loved going to grandma's to see grandma, but the toys kept us busy so the grownups could visit.
My mom has taken this to a new level. Yes, she has toys at her house that Big sister runs to play with the second we walk in the door. But my mom actually has a bag of toys and books that she brings to our house.
Both girls now get really excited when they see Nanny coming carrying the bag of toys.
Little sister especially loves the caterpillar book.
It has a caterpillar that you pull through holes in the different items that he eats before turning into a butterfly.
Nanny will poke the little head of the caterpillar through the hole and Little sister grabs it takes it the rest of the way through just giggling the whole time.
I know they love seeing their grandma. But the special toys sure grab their attention more than those old things lying around their rooms.

Count slower -- don't peek

2008-03-31T17:35:00.000-07:00

1...2....20
Ready or not here I come!
I'm sure every parent has done it. Told their child to go hide and then clean up the living room all the while pretending to search for them.
"I think she must be in the front closet," I say as I stuff in the five pillows and two balls that belong in there.
"Maybe she's in her bedroom closet," I proclaim, thrusting open the doors and putting her shoes in the shoe holder.
Finally, I find Big sister under Little sister's bed as I put a toy under the crib where the oldest child is hiding.
It's my turn to hide, so I grab my shoes and run to the back closet where my shoes belong and slam the door quietly. While I'm in there I also pick out my clothes for the next day.
The next task is emptying the dishwasher, so I count really slowly as I put away first the plates, then the bowls.
I run quickly to my room and smile at Big sister who's hiding behind my bed. My turn to hide.
Running to the kitchen again, I put away a few glasses before I hear "ready or not, here I come."
Open the fridge door and grin around the side as Big sister says, "Daddy, hide right this time."
I finally give up and just play for half an hour until it's time for her show on TV. Then I finish up while she gets ready for bed.
Cleaning can be fun.

It's nontoxic

2008-03-24T18:19:00.000-07:00

Every year the beautiful wife and big sister color Easter eggs. It's always a big mess, therefore it's a lot of fun.
This year Little sister was big enough to help. Instead, she became the main attraction.
We got a new kind of dye and it's a good thing it is nontoxic -- though I guess you would expect that since you are coloring food.
At first it was just regular fun. Little and big sister dipped the eggs in the bowls of colored water and splashed them around some, turning them and turning them as they slowly changed colors.
But then Little sister decided she was bored and started splashing the water all over the table. It's just a good thing we had stripped her down to the diaper before we started.
We just laughed and smiled and took pictures when she waved her arms hysterically. We all turned our attention to big sister for a second to see what new creation she was coming up with. When we turned back Little sister had made the decision that not only was the dye fun to play with, it was good as a soup too.
She would stop and look to make sure we were watching and then take a big ole spoonful and shove it in her mouth.
The beautiful wife and grandpa, being the good parental types decided to taste it to see what it was like.

I was just glad it was nontoxic. I'll stick to eating the eggs.

Neglected

2008-03-19T18:08:00.000-07:00

We knew it would happen.
The beautiful wife and I have spent the last two weeks or so running around keeping Little sister's glasses on and telling people about them and wondering at all the new things she was seeing for the first time.
Big sister has dealt with it all pretty well.
She's been very good about helping us find the glasses when Little sister hides them -- though that happens less as she's realized how much better she see.
But it's all gotten to her finally.
Today she bit her mother and then cried in her room for an hour while mom waited for her to apologize.
The beautiful wife finally went in and got her and they went into our bedroom and shut the door. I heard some sobbing and when court was finally convened it was determined that we were having a movie night.
We have rented "Mr. Magorium's Wonder emporium" had Dairy Queen and are just spending time with big sister as Little sister snores through the snot jiggling around in her head.

SHE CAN SEE!!!

2008-03-11T18:18:00.000-07:00

Her eyes were wide as could be. It was partially because the glasses magnify them to three times their size, but it was also from surprise.
At first, Little sister didn't like them. She would take them off and hand them to me. I would put them back on.
But somewhere in there she managed to forget she had them on. So, when we sat down to dinner, Little sister just looked at her plate. She picked up her fork and speared the hot dog bite. She held the fork up to me with the biggest smile on her face and shoved it in her mouth. Again and again Little sister started seeing things up close for the first time yesterday and today.
The beautiful wife tells me Little sister left them on all day long.
Little sister did several things today she hadn't done before:
-- She put the correct shapes in the shape sorter.
-- Used the spoon to pick bananas out of her cereal.
-- Stepped up on the steps at school.
-- Stayed off the dining room table (We think she can actually see how high it is now)
-- Pulled Big sister's shoe string out and then put it back in

There are actually so many things I don't think I can list them all.
We've always thought Little sister is very smart. Now, we have to wonder how much can she accomplish, how much more quickly she will develop and just how much she has been missing without the glasses.
From here on out every day is an adventure for her.

The pouting begins

2008-03-08T19:36:00.000-08:00

So, a good thing, finally ... well mostly.
Little sister hasn't gotten her glasses yet, but we now know that Big sister is going to be jealous when she does. On Thursday and Friday she bugged us so much that we called a local eye doctor and got an appointment for Friday afternoon.
The beautiful wife took her there and found out that Big sister does not need glasses. She is a little near sighted in one eye, but not enough to need anything yet.
We don't have to buy glasses, but we do have to listen to Big sister's green monster gripe.
We've promised her those nice Hannah Montana sunglasses to make up for a little, assuring her that she doesn't really want glasses. But then again, who am I to say anything. I wanted them as a child too.
We're very impatient for Little sister to get her glasses, no matter what her sister's reaction.
Before when Little sister would run into a wall it was just her being clumsy, or not paying attention. Now we know it's because she really can't see where she's at. When she reaches down to grab something and can't quite get it, we know she really can't see it.
If doing this blog has taught me anything though, it's that our child needing glasses is probably the most minor of problems ever.
There are whole groups of blogs dedicated to the horrible diseases and conditions to which some children are afflicted.
But seriously. If anyone has tips on how to get an 18-month-old to wear glasses, I'd love to hear them.

Seeing straight

2008-03-05T17:33:00.000-08:00

When I was a child, I remember asking my mom if I could have glasses. All the adults I knew had them and I wanted them too.
She took me to the eye doctor and they determined I didn't need them. Good news for my parents, because they didn't have to buy glasses. Eventually I got my wish in sixth grade -- though by then I didn't really want them.
Ever since I have had to wear glasses. I don't care about the way I look, but they hassle is annoying sometimes.
The other day I was looking at Little sister and noticed that her left eye wasn't quite looking at me. She was getting cross-eyed. I had never really heard of kids getting cross-eyed at this point -- 18 months -- so naturally the beautiful wife and I were worried.
We took her to the doctor, who sent us to an ophthamologist, where we found out today that our little girl is extremely farsighted. It was a relief that the crossing wasn't some horrible disease or a tumor. But it was a little disappointing that she does need glasses.
I mean, how are we supposed to keep a pair of $300 glasses on a toddler's face? Half the time we can't get her to leave her clothes on, and we have to make sure she leaves frames on her face?
The doctor assures us that she will notice how much better she can see with them on and will wear them without a problem, but I'm a little skeptical. I guess we'll see at the beginning of next week.
He said that the glasses will correct the crossing too. And he's probably right, I bet it will be harder for me to get used to it than Little sister.
The ordeal isn't over yet though. Now Big sister is telling us that she can't see what her preschool teachers are doing when she sits at the back of the room, and she complains of headaches all the time.
Guess who's going to the eye doctor next?

Pirates of the big garage

2008-03-01T18:32:00.000-08:00

I decided to take the week off. Sorry for anyone who reads this and missed me for a week. It's just been busy, with sick children and other things I'm not ready to blog about yet.
I also haven't had much time to play with Big and Little sisters, and they've let me know about it.
So, I took the day off from cleaning and all the other Saturday things I normally do. I of course tried to keep the place from getting too messy, but mostly I just played with the girls.
We played UNO, play dough, watched movies, went to the park (though it was freezing and we didn't stay long) and most fun, we played pirates.
That's right, big sister loves to play pirates in the garage. I bought a couple of plastic swords on clearance after Halloween a couple of years ago. Big sister likes to go out in the garage and play with them every now and then. While the wind was whipping around and freezing us outside, it wasn't too bad in the garage.
We pulled down the swords and dueled back and forth. She cut off both my arms and stabbed me in the stomach a few times. Then I was a different pirate.
We opened the windows of the Envoy and pretended it was our ship as we threw Snap and Pops out the windows as the dogs danced around like sharks nipping at the tires.
The poor beautiful wife had to work until about 5:30 and didn't get home until 6 or so. So, I still managed to get dinner made at least. Big sister decided to make cupcakes too.
All in all, a good day

Kid snot

2008-02-25T17:36:00.000-08:00

I was kind of a prissy kid. I remember being grossed out if someone left a dirty Kleenex laying around. As a teenager I would refuse to pick them up if my mother asked me to.
As I've gotten older, or more likely since I've had children, I've moved past that.
Now, when I see a boogie hanging out of a little nose, I'm the first one to reach out and wipe it off. If I don't have a snot rag, I've been known to just use my sleeve or shirt tail.
I'm still pretty disgusted if I see a used Kleenex sitting around at work, but little kid snot just doesn't seem as toxic as adult snot. Or maybe I'm just more familiar with it than I used to be.
It seems like every other week someone is sick in our house.
It was less than two weeks ago that Little sister finished her antibiotic and already she has another cold. The green stuff leaks down her face like she's a half-crazed zombie. And she walks around in a daze ignoring it.
I can't wait until spring gets here and the cold season passes.

Racing fun

2008-02-21T16:20:00.000-08:00

I was never really into racing, but little electric racetracks are great. So, when Big sister got me one for Christmas two years ago, I was excited.
I mean, who needs boys, when I've got two little girls who will play racetrack with me. Putting up the track these days is half the fun, as we try to put the pieces together before Little sister can run away with them.
She'll grab one, stand up and laugh, giving us a second to try and come after her before she sprints down the hallway cackling. If you don't chase her, she comes back and sticks her head around the corner until you follow.
When we do finally get the track in one piece so that it can run, we usually get about 10 laps in before Little sister gets interested. At first she just sits and helps push the buttons, but before long, she wants to play with the cars.
So, she reaches down and grabs the cars off the track and puts her ponies in the middle.
We put the cars back on, and she takes them off again.
Next, she puts the ponies on the track and lets out a huge laugh as the cars collide with the animal sending it flying in one direction and the mini-vehicles in another.
I love toy racetracks!

Trip to the museum

2008-02-18T17:49:00.000-08:00

What do you get the family that has everything?
Well, my mother decided two years ago that passes to the Children's Museum would fit the bill as a Christmas present. Boy was she right.
Big sister loves the museum. We went at least once a month last year, so we got the same present again this year -- YES!
Little sister is finally big enough to enjoy the experience too. Seeing them play together was a lot of fun. I've always known Big sister was smart, but this just confirms Little sister is just as smart. She watches everything Big sister does and tries to do it better.
I think they'll always love each other, but we're in for some real competitive days ahead.

Daddy daughter date

2008-02-17T17:21:00.000-08:00

It was the perfect end to a perfect night.
A slow song crooned from the DJ's speakers. Big sister's arms were wrapped around my neck, her legs around my waist as we glided cheek to cheek around the dance floor. "I love you daddy," she whispered, her eyes closed, a smile on her face.
It was the second year we attended the Daddy Daughter Date Night. Every year, the parks department throws a big dance right after Valentine's Day. For $17 they provide a corsage, a small gift, snacks and wonderful memories.
There's just something about watching a bunch of dads, with varying degrees of awkwardness, attempting the latest dance crazes. You can see the look of enjoyment and relief when the dance staples begin booming through the cafeteria -- YMCA, Chicken Dance, Mackarena, Electric Slide.

At other times you see little girls running from place to place, chased by various friends. Many dads are flinging their daughters through their legs, throwing them in the air and dipping them -- doing anything to hear that squeal of delight.
At the end of the day, I know there were a lot of exhausted daughters Saturday night, who were just happy to know their dads cared enough to spend 2-1/2 hours. Even if there were some awkward moments

Too much to watch

2008-02-16T05:03:00.000-08:00

Growing up out in the country without Satellite in the 1980s, there wasn't much on television. We had four or five channels.
Even then we didn't watch much of what was on it. We did watch a lot more than my mother liked, however.
"You need to go outside and play," she would say. Then she would turn it off and make us go outside.
When the beautiful wife and I got satellite we were overwhelmed. There were close to 100 channels with tons of programming. It didn't take long to realize there wasn't really much on.
It actually took us a few years to realize the real reason for television -- the Disney channel and Nickelodeon.
We don't exactly use the TV as a babysitter and never have, but there are days when all you want is to sit down and have a cup of coffee, or to go to the bathroom by yourself. At that point, I have found myself saying, "just go watch Hannah Montana or something."
It's a bad habit, though, so it doesn't take long before I hear myself sounding like my mother, "big sister, why don't you go outside and play." At which time, I turn off the TV and make her do something else.
I know hypocritical, I told her to go turn it on -- but what can I say, "I'm the dad and I make the rules."

Listen...silence!!

2008-02-12T19:30:00.000-08:00

I don't want to jinx things, but Little sister seems to have gotten into her groove at bedtime. For months now she has given us a hard time going to bed and then getting up two and three times a night.
She would sleep a night here and there, just enough to keep us from going totally insane, but it got old really quick.
I think part of it was getting back from the holidays and part of it was that she seemed to get sick every other week.
But Little sister finally finished her last bit of antibiotics, got over the runny nose and for a week she has been sleeping all night. It's been very pleasant. The beautiful wife has even gotten to get up and have an hour of alone time in the morning!
Nothing beats that hour to just relax and drink a cup of coffee ... let's just hope it continues.
Grandma update
Thank you for all your prayers. Grandma came home Monday night. My mom stayed the night with her and said she is doing well.

My feet hurt too

2008-02-10T17:21:00.000-08:00

My beautiful wife has never liked feet. She doesn't want to rub them, touch them or really even see them.
So it didn't surprise when Big sister didn't want to touch my feet either -- there goes the dream of coming home and getting a nice foot rub.
The thing is, neither beautiful wife nor Big sister are shy about asking me to rub their feet. Of course I'm a sucker and don't ever even question it. I just sit down and massage until my hands feel like they're going to fall off.
The other day, though I couldn't believe it. Big sister says, "daddy, will you pop my toes?" My reply, because I was feeling evil, was, "only if you'll pop mine first."
"Ewww, daddy, I won't do that."
But of course Beautiful wife says, "come over here and pop mine," and Big sister walked right over and did it!
What, "why will you pop her toes and not mine?"
"Because your toes are hairy daddy. I can't touch hairy toes!"
Aren't kids great for the ego.

A little fun and work

2008-02-09T18:16:00.000-08:00

The beautiful wife and I spend a lot of time just doing everyday cleaning to maintain our home, but now and then we have to strip down the room and do some heavy duty cleaning.
Today was one of those days. The living room floor, couch and walls were simply grimy.
Here's the challenge. How do you do all the work, but still make it fun enough that you don't spend the entire day with Big and Little sister hanging on your shirttails screaming, "pay attention to me!"
The beautiful wife is good at it. I come home to the sparlking home all the time with the girls telling me what a good time they had.
When I try it, we usually end up with two little girls who are kicking and screaming, tears running down their faces who hate their daddy.
This morning, I did it right. I'm not saying I'll ever be able to repeat, but I had the dynamic duo eating out of my hand. I made a game out of drying the floor after I mopped and promised them we would "ice skate" when everything was clean. We moved the couches out of the living room after cleaning them. Then we dusted the entire room while Big sister ran the vacuum and Little Sister helped by climbing all over the couches in the kitchen.
Then came the fun. We put in a CD, put on our slick socks and "skated" and danced all over the laminate wood floor.
Big sister had fun. Little sister had fun. But most importantly, the beautiful wife complimented me saying, "wow, you did all this and I didn't hear any crying when I called you."

Hannah Montana

2008-02-07T16:41:00.000-08:00

When I was a teenager all the little girls were crazy for boy bands. Prepubescent girls would line up for miles to scream wildly and passionately at a bunch of boys whose biggest talents were moving their lips to look like they were singing.
Today Hollywood and the music industry and Disney have given little girls a different thing to scream about. While I still have to shake my head, as a dad I can say "at least it's not a bunch of boys."
Her music is bubble gum, but really, watching the 15-year-old Miley Ray Cyrus perform absolutely blows my mind.
The beautiful wife and I took big sister to the Rave movie theater earlier this week to see the 3-D movie of the concert. I'm not really sure why it was 3-D, other than maybe to charge a little more for tickets. Overall, though, it was much better than I expected.
I have a low tolerance for bubble gum music, and most of what you hear on Disney tends to lean that way. And while most of the Hannah Montana is bubble gum, her songs are at least upbeat, pop dance songs -- and it's not a bunch of boys.
Not to mention Big sister is crazy for it.
We made sure to sit over to the side away from other people. We did this knowing that our daughter is a like a jack-in-the-box. She absolutely can't sit still.
She spent the two hours dancing back and forth in front of us and singing at the top of her lungs.
Between watching Big sister dance and trying to keep her from falling down the steps, I couldn't take my eyes off of Miley Ray Cyrus, also known as Hannah Montana.
How does a girl that young have that kind of a stage presence and have that much confidence?
I consider myself a pretty confident person, and have in fact spoken in front of 200 to 300 people without any problem. But this girl is singing in front of sold-out 60,000 seat arenas.
I can't imagine doing that and I really have a hard time thinking about a 15-year-old girl doing it.
But there she is on the screen. And Big sister is enjoying it thoroughly.
I guess she could have worse role models -- Britney Spears is still out there somewhere.

Coconut bars

2008-02-06T03:19:00.000-08:00

It was a long drive to grandma's house. As an adult driving to Midland,Mich., by myself it took about 5 hours to get there -- driving just a little more than the speed limit of course. But as a child I remember it took at least 6 hours, often a little more. And I know my dad didn't drive the speed limit either. I have a vague recollection of asking him, sometime after I was able to read numbers, why he was driving so much faster than the other cars. He told me, "I was just speeding up to get around that truck, it's all right to do that."
Our trips often began on a Friday right after school because my mom was a teacher or on a Saturday morning. When we would get to grandma's condominium we would give her a great big hug and then sidle over to the kitchen where we knew there would be coconut chocolate bars. There's nothing better after a 6-hour drive than a coconut chocolate bar.
Then we'd drag all of our stuff in out of the car to the basement and get situated. The next item on the agenda was always catching up. We'd sit on grandma's couch upstairs and all tell her what was going on at home.
I've got to tell you I miss trips to Michigan -- grandma moved to Indiana about 8 years ago.
SURGERY
Grandma got through her surgery all right, but is in the ICU so they can monitor her blood pressure. The doctor removed the tumor from her colon, but said it had perforated and attached to a portion of her small intestine as well. He removed that too, however, that increases the likelihood that it will return soon. She still needs all of our prayers. Thank you to anyone who lifted her to God in prayer.

Surgery today

2008-02-05T08:43:00.001-08:00

I don't really have anything to say today. I'm still kind of shocked. But I wanted to post that grandma is having surgery at 1:30 p.m. today to remove the tumor from her colon.
Please keep her in your prayers.

Shocked and sad

2008-02-02T18:30:00.000-08:00

Some of my best childhood memories are of the time spent in Michigan at my Grandma and Grandpa's house.
It was a six-hour drive, so we didn't visit more than a couple of times a year and when we did go, it was something special. I remember my grandpa as a tall, strong man. He was kind with an easy sense of humor. He died of cancer when I was in grade school and my memories of him have faded. Now I'm left with more of a feeling about who he was than anything else.
He's more of a person in photos and as I sit here, I can't think of any memory that really reminds me who he was. All I have are vague recollections of him playing Superman with me, greeting him when he came home from work -- and worst of all him lying in a hospital bed watching my baptism on a VCR because he was too weak to attend himself.
Now I'm terrified because my grandma has a tumor in her colon, likely a recurrence of the cancer from 20 or so years ago.
She has already said she doesn't want to go through chemotherapy or radiation again, so it's probably a matter of time.
I have many more memories with grandma -- memories that really stick in my mind. But how long before those start to fade?
I want to hold on to them as long as possible, so excuse me if I reminisce a little in the next couple of days.

Sunbeams, snoozing and sickness

2008-01-30T16:23:00.000-08:00

A sick child doesn't sleep at night. She can't breathe. That makes her tired during the day, which makes her grumpy and leads to unpleasantness.
Unpleasantness like yelling at each other about a corndog meal.
"Where's my corndog meal daddy?" Big sister asked me tonight.
Oh, shoot. I knew I forgot something at the store.
"I WANT MY CORNDOG MEAL DADDY!"
This fit led to her screaming in her room for 20 minutes before we got her to accept an alternative.
Little sister is sick too. The beautiful wife took both of them to the doctor today and they are now on antibiotics.
Little sister is hard to handle as well. She wants to spend 24 hours in your arms, either being carried or laying on your chest. That doesn't mean she naps though. Try and try but you can't get her to nap. If she falls asleep on your chest, that's it, you're trapped.
Laying her down leads to her screaming in her room.
It's days like these that I feel extremely sorry for my wife, yet very lucky that I'm at work -- though I know I'll get mine on another day.
Through all of this, there are still moments that make you stop and ooohhh and ahhhh.
This photo of Little sister sleeping in a sunbeam was one of those few moments today for the beautiful, yet somewhat frazzled, wife.

Scary storms

2008-01-29T17:48:00.000-08:00

We saw the news and knew it would be bad. There was that thin little line of red moving quickly across the landscape.
There was nothing we could do though, but wait. So when the winds finally started whipping up and the rain came down, we grabbed the dogs and just held on tight while they whimpered at the rumbles and crashes outside the walls or our house. We put Little sister to bed about half an hour late, because who can sleep when two dogs are yapping at every little noise.
Of course the real scariness came from me, not the dogs. Shortly after the storm passed through, I got a call from one of my reporters (I'm the editor of a newspaper for those who aren't familiar).
He said it looked like a tornado had ripped through the city. I guess my loud talking and animated conversations frightened both girls.
I looked up at one point and realized my poor babies were huddled into their mother staring at me with wide eyes. I went to the other room to finish my work.

Back to normal

2008-01-28T17:06:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I lied a little bit. The grumpies didn't really sneak up. I know why they were there and they were unfortunately self induced.
For a long time I've drank way too much coffee. I'd have my cup in the morning and then another and another all through the afternoon. It's been getting hard on my stomach, so I decided to cut it down. All I've had since last Wednesday is my one cup each morning.
Today is the first day I've felt like myself. That is to say the little trolls stopped baning on the inside of my head with hammers.
I was ready to come home and have a good time with Big and Little sisters. When I walked in the door I got my usual hello tackle, but afterwards it wasn't the same. They're both sick with a nasty cough.
Big sister fell asleep on the couch before dinner and Little sister walked around screaming because I evidently transferred the grumpies to her. (She's sick too on top of teething.)
The beautiful wife was exhausted -- as she deserves to be as hard as she works -- so I made dinner, cleaned up and I guess I'll go to bed. Just got to kiss the girls again.
.

Grrrrr

2008-01-27T17:29:00.000-08:00

I don't know how it happened. I woke up this morning perfectly fine. I helped my beautiful wife get ready for work, took Little sister to bed with me because she started crying shortly before I got back to sleep.
But everything was fine.
Somehow, sometime, it snuck up on me though. It was a slow creeping feeling. Or did it just suddenly hit? I'm not sure, but I got struck by the grumpies.
The all out, leave me alone, stop talking to me grumpies.
Unfortunately, when you have two children you don't get to indulge in the need to be alone.
At this point, no matter how I try to be patient and reasonable, everything either little girl does just gets on my nerves. It's all I can do not to yell at every move they make. And I suppose I didn't do a very good job of it.
At least it's bed time.
Big sister, I love you, but good night.
Tomorrow I'll try to be better.

4:20 a.m.

2008-01-26T02:15:00.000-08:00

4:20 a.m.: The alarm goes off for the first time. At least I think it does. Something in my sleepy brain tells me to roll over and hit snooze.
4:38 a.m.: The alarm goes off for the third time (It's set for every 9 minutes. Why nine minutes? Because I don't know how to change it.) I finally sort of realize I'm supposed to be getting up, but I hit snooze one more time.
4:47 a.m.: I roll over and tell the beautiful (though very sleepy) wife, "you need to get up."
"I Know, don't remind me," she says through gritted teeth as she swings her legs over and down to the floor.
This is when the action really starts. Stephanie tiptoes to the bathroom and herd the dogs as quietly as possible to the back of the house to let them out, back in and feed them.
I sidle past the bathroom and into Big sister's room, where I pull her out of bed and put slide into the bathroom where I set her on the toilet. (Since I get up every morning really early, I do this so she won't wet the bed -- it's worked mostly for six months now)
She kisses mommy in the shower and I put her back in bed.
5:02 a.m.: Lay down for about five minutes when Stephanie gets out of the shower and comes into the bedroom. I get up and go make her cream of wheat.
5:14 a.m.: Go start the car and pour the coffee, feed the cat.
5:28 a.m.: Stephanie is out the door and I'm back to sleep for at least another 2 hours...Ihope.

*This schedule completely depends on whether we are able to not wake up Little Sister. If she wakes up, the schedule includes a lot more whining and crying than usual.

Her body is a weapon

2008-01-23T18:09:00.000-08:00

Big sister has razorblade elbows and knees -- and she knows how to use them. She's really more awkward than anything else, I'm sure she doesn't do it on purpose, but Big sister manages to hit me just wrong no matter what.
When I walk in the door after work, she hurtles around the corner and half a step in front of little sister only to smack her elbow into the most tender of spots in an attempt to greet me. Little sister thinks it's great fun to jump on my head while I'm writhing in pain.
And in case you think I'm being over sensitive, the beautiful wife can attest to the dangerous body parts of our eldest child. She is at her worst when you're not looking. If you're sitting watching television, Big sister will sneak up to give you a big hug and jump in your lap, digging her knees into your gut. I'm not always sure we are going to survive her love.
Little sister isn't much better. Her idea of loving is to give a big hug and then smack you in the face. I have no idea where she got that.
Anybody have some body armor for sale cheap?

Rock a bye

2008-01-22T18:51:00.000-08:00

I feel it slipping away. I want my girls to grow up, but it hurts watching it happen. Most of the time I am excited to see them reach milestones, but tonight I just wanted to cry.
The last couple of weeks I've written about Little sister and the new exciting things she's done. One thing I'm glad she hasn't grown past is being rocked to sleep at night.
Some will say it's a bad habit to get into, but I feel closer to her at that point than any other during the day. There are nights that she will cry and scream awhile, but she always ends up resting her head on my shoulder and drooling down my shirt.
That's right, I leave her room soaked to the skin and I like it. There's nothing like having a baby fall asleep on your shoulder.
I've already lost that with Big sister. In fact, I readily pushed it away. We did everything we could to get her to go to sleep on her own.
Maybe I won't be in such a big hurry to let the little one grow up.

Suck it up

2008-01-21T17:38:00.000-08:00

Grandma has a foolproof way to teach babies to drink from a straw.
She starts by putting the straw in the drink and putting her finger on the other end, then pulling some liquid out. The straw goes in the baby's mouth and she releases the liquid.
She does this a few times and then she doesn't release, forcing the baby to suck on the straw. Eventually, the baby learns to suck liquid up the straw.
Big sister got this trick pretty quickly, but we didn't think Little sister would ever get there. We've been trying for several months to teach her. She just couldn't get it.
Big sister was the one who succeeded, though it wasn't for really trying. It was out of sheer jealousy. Being recently weaned off the bottle, Little Sister was finally noticing that Big Sister's cups are different. Rather than sippies, Big sister uses cups with straws.
She watched and watched and would pick up Big sister's cups when she wasn't looking, only to get yelled out later -- "sis! I told you to leave my cups alone!"
This is normally followed by Stephanie or I lugging in towels or the mop to clean up the drink off the floor.
Something finally clicked the other day, and Little Sister just started doing it.
I heard a scream from the kitchen, but as I ran from the back of the house I could tell it was a fun scream because it was followed by giggles.
I came in to see Little sister taking a long drink out of a cup with a straw.
She grows up so fast, I wonder what's next.

Happy birthday

2008-01-19T20:53:00.000-08:00

Little sister wasn't quite sure what to do with the presents at her birthday party in September. She needed a little help opening. Big sister was glad to oblige.
At Christmas they were both little tornadoes by the time we got around to the last present opening session -- I think we got enough toys to fill a small house, which means we're finding new places to stuff things.
Now they can hardly keep their hands off other people's presents, as is evidenced by the photo showing both of them crowding around my cousin Jason's Laid back baby.
You don't see it in the photo, but there were several times we had to stop Little Sister from ripping paper off packages prematurely.
After a while I stopped worrying though, because Laid back baby didn't seem to be very interested in opening presents about halfway through. He crawled off to play with some of his new toys, leaving Big and Little sister to finish the deal.
The other challenge was party food. Little sister likes to play with and eat ice cubes, which is completely my fault. Being knee height, people tend to forget she is there. So Little sister took her time, waited for someone to put down their drink and the ice was hers... never mind the tea or Sprite that was also in the cup. I did a lot of walking behind Little sister cleaning up messes.
And then there was the cake. There are photos of Laid back baby digging into cake and later blowing blue icing from his nose, illustrating how thorough he was in consuming the confection.
Big and Little sister are actually pretty good at eating cake. They have both gotten past shoving it all over their faces, because they don't want to let one crumb hit the floor.
This of course leads to sugar highs, which I just paid for. I'm posting this at midnight, despite what the time stamp below says. That's because Little sister just came off her sugar high.
I would go to bed, but I think I hear her crying again ... gotta go ...

Well...no wonder!

2008-01-17T17:31:00.000-08:00

We now know for sure why Little sister couldn't sleep. We kind of suspected at the end of last week that she was in for a hard couple of days. We could see and feel the tooth buds on her gums, but we only saw one.
Stephanie stuck her little finger (after washing it of course) in Little Sister's mouth and lo and behold, the biter's getting four teeth at once. It shouldn't be a surprise of course, because she got all eight of her front teeth at the same time in August. It took about a month with those. We can only hope it doesn't take that long this time.
It has to hurt.
But she actually takes it pretty well. She's fussy and whiny, but that's about it.
When Big sister was at this same stage she turned into a beaver and began chewing on everything. Chairs, bedpost and especially the windowsill.
We moved into our house on the sweetest street in town about a month after Big sister's first birthday. She was just tall enough to stand on her tiptoes and look out the window -- meaning her mouth was right at the level of the windowsill.
It's almost disgusting to look at and I shake my head every time I walk by. We'll have to fix it if we ever sell the house. However, when I look at Big sister and see that her head is now even with the top of the bottom window, I think, "maybe we'll leave those teeth marks a little while longer."

Love the smell of Lysol

2008-01-16T18:02:00.000-08:00

I don't know how she does it. I run around all weekend, just trying to keep two little girls from impaling themselves -- both Big and Little sister like to wield anything sticklike as a sword, which is actually my fault and probably a blog for another time.
There are days Stephanie comes home to find a clean house with laundry done and dinner on the table.
Then there are the other days.
Something resembling food is probably halfway cooked in the oven, most of the floors are swept and the laundry might be halfway to finding itself in drawers. Things definitely aren't together though.
I have my good days and bad days. Hopefully the good ones are happening more often.
But I can't achieve the consistency that Stephanie does. She has a routine that works, which I can't seem to get into. Here's an example:
I walked in the house today after -- what I like to call "stick a needle in my eye meeting day," when my time was spent moving from one group of people to another while thinking about all the work I had to do -- to the wonderful smell of Lysol.
MMMMahhhh.
The sound of girls playing, wife singing and the cleanest house this side of Martha Stewart's. Not only was it clean, Stephanie had found time to tackle the tough projects in the kitchen and hall closet that we had both been avoiding for months.
To top it off, she even went and did the grocery shopping after supper. I did clean up after the meal, but I must tip my hat to the domestic goddess.

ZZZZZZZ

2008-01-15T17:24:00.000-08:00

It took about 2-1/2 years, but Big Sister goes to bed like a trooper. We take her in to bed, give kisses all around, family hug and then tuck her in.
"Daddy, what time are you going to be home tomorrow?"
"5 p.m.," I answer.
"Will you leave the light on and the door cracked?"
"Of course."
"Can I yell for you if I need you?"
"It will cost you two beads, big sister, two beads."
"Good night daddy."
I don't know how long it will take Little sister to get to that point, but it can't happen soon enough.
She will go through a week or so when she'll sleep all night long, but then two when she refuses to stay down.
It goes something like this:
8 p.m.: Rock Little sister for 15 minutes until she falls asleep. Lay her down in bed, where she immediately wakes up. Lie on her floor for half an hour until she falls back to sleep. Putting her down first doesn't seem to work.
Hopefully, we can sneak out quietly.
9:30 or 10 p.m.: She wakes up screaming. We wait for five to 10 minutes to see if she'll put herself back to sleep. One of us goes in and repeats the process.
If we're lucky she'll stay down until 4:30 a.m. or so when it's time for us to get up and get ready for work anyway.
She is the lightest sleeper ever. The dogs tiptoeing past her door wakes her up, Stephanie coughing wakes her up, a feather falling to the floor in the neighbor's house wakes her up.
We take turns getting up with Little sister depending on who has to go to work he next day.
The first night is easy, the second night isn't too bad. It's the day after the third night with no sleep that is difficult, as my staff can attest to.
We had an 1-1/2 hour meeting yesterday because I couldn't keep us on track.
The worst was today on the way home when the driver behind me in the turn lane had to honk to wake me up because the light was green -- I'm fine while I'm driving, it's when I stop that there's trouble.
Luckily, tonight is my night to sleep ... if only I can turn the computer off without waking her up.

Sister love

2008-01-14T17:33:00.000-08:00

From the time she was two years old Big sister asked for a little sister. When we would play in the park and someone would walk by with a little sister, she would watch them with longing in her eyes.
But Stephanie and I just weren't ready. It took us a whole year before we even really considered having another baby. By that time I had to convince my wife that it was time and she grudgingly agreed. Once Little Sister came along, though, there wasn't doubt in anyone's mind that our family was finally complete.
Big Sister has been a different child since Little Sister was born. And the way they play -- I don't ever remember seeing two children who love each other more. They do everything together.
They sit on the couch and eat together, bathe together and are even rotten together.
Little Sister is a shadow to Big Sister and they both love it. And while Big Sister was smart and is a quick learner, Little Sister is even more so because she has such a great teacher.
It amazes me to watch them because growing up I remember fighting with my siblings like cats and dogs. We had good times of course, but nothing like my children.
I'm sure they'll have their moments of disagreement, but for now Stephanie and I are sitting back and enjoying our two of a kind girls.

Little tornado

2008-01-12T17:47:00.000-08:00

I work during the week and Stephanie works on the weekends, except for Monday when we both labor away from home and Grandma watches the girls.
Stephanie gets four days at home alone with them and I get two. Because of this I can very much appreciate how hard it is to just get through the day with your sanity. Friday Stephanie called me and told me to "just come home right now, please."
Today was my turn. I had high aspirations of getting a few things done. I thought I might clean the kitchen really well, which I got started, but was unable to go very far. Every time I turned around Little Sister was either hungry and trying to get something out of the refrigerator or pulling a toy from the playroom to the living room.
She is simply a little tornado.
I would put away a baby doll and come back to find out she had dragged out her rocking dinosaur, then it was her ride-on car and her ball popper and on and on and on ...
Big sister doesn't help a lot, she isn't nearly as bad, but she gets out her share of stuff. She understands consequences a little better. "Put that away or you won't watch any more television today," I tell her.
"But dad...."
I turn the television off and it gets done quickly.
There is no such trick for Little sister yet. All I can do is just keep putting things away.

My little Rachel Ray

2008-01-11T17:14:00.000-08:00

Stephanie and I love to cook. Sometimes we use recipes, other times we just wing it. Most of the time we get a pretty healthy meal with lots of fresh ingredients.
Though she won't eat anything we make, Big Sister has picked up our love of cooking. She likes to watch cooking shows (Rachel Ray mostly) and then go to the kitchen and reenact what she just watched.
Big Sister pretends she's Rachel Ray and the parent helping is a little kid who she is teaching to cook. So, the entire time it's, "OK little kid, the first thing you do is get out all the vegetables."
It's really cute. At first we did a lot of the preparation for her and just made her think she was doing it. Then we moved to letting her make the salads. I'll tell you, she makes a mean salad -- they're usually so big I don't need a meal to go with them.
Her repertoire has expanded recently though and the last week or two she has actually done all of the cooking! Last night I took Little Sister to the store while Stephanie stayed home to cook supper.
When I got back she said, "Big Sister cooked the entire meal. I cleaned the freezer while she did it." I think those were some of the best tacos I have ever eaten.
I can't wait to see what she will cook tommorow.

She won't stop talking!

2008-01-10T17:56:00.000-08:00

At first it's cute. When I come home Big Sister has a lot to say. And I mean a lot.
She tells what her job was at school, what games she played, what special projects they made.
But then she just keeps going. Question after question after question.
If you ignore her, the questions just get louder. The sound level goes from dull roar to jet plan landing.
We try to be nice, but eventually it just slips out, "shut up. Just stop talking!"
I'm not proud of saying it and I always regret it. I'm actually really scared of the day she decides she doesn't want to talk to me anymore.
So more and more I try to grin and shake my head at her. I think of it as training for work. At the newspaper there are generally five people in front of me all at once asking questions while I'm trying to read a story and put together pages that are due in 30 minutes.
Mostly I tune them out and only answer what really needs attention.
I can't do that at home. My family needs my full attention when I'm there, so I take a deep breath, close my eyes and refocus.
"Yes, big sister, what happened next."

Helpless!!!!

2008-01-09T17:13:00.000-08:00

I'm just old enough to remember being the television remote control. As a child it wasn't unusual to be told to go change the channel for my mom or dad, or turn down the volume.
Now days, we have so many remotes we shouldn't ever have to stand up -- until the remote breaks that is. Never having had to be the remote before, Big Sister was somewhat unfamiliar today when we told her to go change the channel.
She brought us the remote.
"No, no, you have to walk over to the Dish receiver and push the buttons," Stephanie told her.
Not quite understanding, Big Sister just started pushing buttons. It took her a while to get used to it. The real problem is that with her controlling the buttons, we tend to end up watching cartoons or Hanna Montana -- all the time.
It's also disconcerting not knowing what is on and what is coming on next. We're used to hitting the guide button and flipping through the stations until we come upon a program we can all sort of agree to watch. Instead I'm writing this blog while watching one of the worst shows ever made "Crowned the Mother of all Pageants." Big Sister wanted to see who gets "de-sashed" and Stephanie is all about train wreck programming.
So we watch vacant girls and their mothers fight it out while they have vapid conversations about how they're dressed and why they want to win.
Maybe I'll just go to bed and dream about the replacement remote I plan to buy tomorrow.

Rough and tumble

2008-01-08T17:36:00.000-08:00

My girls are definitely girly. They like jewelry, makeup and dressing up. But make no mistake, they aren't soft.
You would expect two boys to sit on a toy car and push each other into the wall laughing. I was surprised to come home today and see my girls doing it. Little sister pulled the push car out into the living room and sat down on it. She looked to Big sister, with that knowing look and there was no misunderstanding. Little Sister went zooming down the hall hands in the air and a look of glee on her face until she slammed into the couch smacking her face into the arm.
I stopped and started to go over to her, but in an instant knew nothing was wrong. She was up clapping her hands and laughing to beat the band.
Who knew girls could be rough and tumble too.

Football no understand

2008-01-07T20:11:00.000-08:00

My girls don't understand how I can watch football. They see it as a bunch of guys running around on a field trying to catch each other. It's the same people doing the same things over and over again.
This how a typical Saturday and Sunday afternoon go in our household:
"Daddy, I don't want to watch football," says big sister, as she flips the station.
"Too bad, you watch cartoons all week and all I want to do is see the Colts," I explain, as I cradle the remote, keeping it safe from prying hands.
Big sister stomps off to toture Little sister into screaming so I have to go and take care of her instead of watching the Game.
I don't think I've seen an entire game since the day of Big sister's birth. It was opening weekend when we went to the hospital. Tampa Bay was playing the year after they won the Super Bowl. Stephanie said no football, but she was so drugged up laying in that hospital bed I could have put anything on and she wouldn't have known the difference.
At least it was a good game.
That's all right though, I decided a long time ago that time with my family is a lot more important than a football game. And besides with my new Internet phone I can still get the scores.