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April 01, 2005
"I-L-L, I-N-I! I-L-L, I-N-I!" Repeat often.
Saturday was Fabulous Babe's birthday. To celebrate we went to the Illinois Alum meeting at the local sports bar to watch Illinois vs. Arizona. The comeback Illinois mounted after being down so far was insane. Fabulous Babe was on a roller coaster that had her screaming with joy, crying and then hysterically high fiving anyone that came near her. Eventually I had to shoot her with a elephant dart to get her to settle down.
Of course Kentucky blew it on Sunday. *sigh* Cruel, cruel world.
The saving grace?
We've got tickets to the Final Four and the Championship game!
Fabulous Babe has a very generous friend who usually goes every year and can't due to business. We're sitting in row 43, center court for all three games.
I've died and gone to basketball heaven.
Fabulous Babe is so excited she may spontaneously combust. Illinois only got the the Final Four once, in 1989. To have tickets to their second appearance, with a good chance of going on to the championship, is a dream come true.
We drive down to Illinois tonight to stay with Farmer Mom and Dad. It's a drive to St. Louis for the two games back to back on Saturday with us headed back to the farm afterwards. Then we hang out, celebrate or conduct a wake depending on how the Illini fare, then drive back on Monday night for the championship. Jack and I head back on Tuesday by ourselves with Fabulous Babe flying back Tuesday night after attending a meeting for work during the day.
I'll write some reports up while I'm down on the farm. I promise.
Wish us luck and keep root for the Illini. Michigan State and UNC have already had their wins. My comments for the last team, being as I am a University of Kentucky fan, are unprintable.
I hear stuffed Cardinals are mighty tasty. ;)
Woot!
Posted by Jim at 12:32 AM | Comments (0)
"Zoom, Zoom... Hey! Come back here!"
With slightly warmer weather I've been getting the Miata, Baby Car ready for the spring. (It's not that I don't love my regular ride but there just isn't a comparison.) If you don't remember Baby Car I'll remind you:
Post tune up she purrs...
Fabulous Babe drove Baby Car to Book Club tonight. She said the other ladies all asked about it. She's driving it to work on Friday so I told her to park across three spaces sideways. For some reason her office parking lot spaces are about three feet wide. The result is that door dings are rampant. Here's hoping she tells people she Pimped her Ride.
Jack's still too small to go for any sort of ride in Baby Car. Odds are I won't let his butt touch the seat until he's 3 or 4 and even then I won't go out of the neighborhood.
I want to start spiffing Baby Car up a bit. Tires will probably come first. Then some suspension work. The big engine rebuild won't happen until we're somewhere around 150K miles which is probably 5 years away at this rate. By the time Jack is old enough to drive I hope to have all the work complete.
Fabulous Babe is always so cute driving the Miata. Usually she wears a scarf around her neck with the top down. It's a great picture: hotty redhead in a fun car. I always get a kick out of the rubberneckers when she passes.
Hubba hubba!
Posted by Jim at 12:48 AM | Comments (0)
"Nice dome..."
One of my favorite links at work is this one: The Mount St. Helens Volcano cam.
During conference calls it's a sanity saver. (I don't have any windows in my cube.) It's been fun to follow the growth of the lava dome over the last few months and when the plume blew it was incredibly cool.
It also provides some really funny laughs.
Unfortunately the Volcano Cam is subject to the same rainy weather that the rest of the Pacific Northwest endures from time to time. The resulting fog and rain renders the Volcano Cam a near useless window into a grey blob. For some good examples check out the Volcano Cam Hall of Fame!
Reading the website it's very clear that whoever the poor soul is that takes care of the Volcano Cam has a sense of humor. Anyone willing to post the pictures of a mutant fly is ok by me.
Have a peek. As spring approaches the weather should get better and better. It doesn't mean there won't be a laugh from time to time but the views are generally spectacular.
Posted by Jim at 12:58 AM | Comments (0)
"God isn't a fashion accessory and he's not pro Lap Dance."
Brace yourselves for a rant.
There has been a lot of talk about religion in the news of late. I'm not going near any of that. I'm just going to keep this simple.
On Sunday we were at a Wendy's when about 20 teenagers, well dressed from the church services they had just come from, sat down next to us. They ignored the three of us and chatted amongst themselves about the service, some plans for a religious retreat they were going on and how the girls could give the boys lap dances.
*raised eyebrow*
Excuse me?
Yes the conversation turned into a discussion about lap dances and who gave better dances and who was deserving of them and who wasn't. Granted the brighter kids told the others to stop it because they were being so loud but it was clear that the majority of the group were all onboard with the discussion. (I particularly liked the boy who was thrusting a Bible for emphasis.)
Truth be told I expect most teenagers to make mistakes. I expect them to say things that they shouldn't and to do dumb things from time to time. (Same rules apply to adults but with less slack for repeat offenders.) I even expect them to act hypocritical from time to time.
It may also be that I am simply unaware of a new version of the Ten Commandments that has substituted one of the old favorites with "Thou shall go forth and lap dance" but I doubt it.
Fabulous Babe and I have both noticed how pop culture seems to have decided that religious faith is the new trendy thing. Crosses and bibles are the lastest fashion trend. (I half expect to walk past a girls accessory store and spy pastel crosses with rhinestones.) To be cool you have to be down with the "J" man and his 12 man crew or you just aren't "hip" or, as we say here in the Willinium, "getting jiggy with it."
*sigh*
It may be people being more obvious than they were previously about their faith. (Pride in that isn't a bad thing.) I might be more sensitive after a few bad examples. It may just be that I've become an old man and these things get under my skin more. Hmmmm.
I really don't care who or what you believe in. (Honest.) I think sincere faith is to be applauded and recognized as that. If your faith tells you to knock on my door on a Saturday morning I'm ok with that as long as you're ok with my politely declining to invite you in. Witness all you want but understand that if it's not my cup of tea I'm going to pass. The equation is about respect. Forcing people to follow a religion against their will doesn't strike me as a way to gain lifelong converts.
This change we've seen recently isn't one sponsored by government, despite what the crackpots may think, and certainly isn't something that the Media Elite have had a meeting about and created after passing it past some focus groups. It's a social trend driven by forces that can at best be steered, not created. It's momentary and will pass soon enough.
I was raised in a house where gambling was heavily discouraged. It was drilled into me as a boy that gambling was morally wrong and had a high cost both ethically and financially. The result is that I've always been slow to sit down at a poker table. Alcohol was also on the "nay" list but moderate drinking was tolerated at the occasional family gathering. I can say that 90% of this sentiment was religious based and 10% of my grandmother being cantankerous.
If you declare your religious faith I expect you to live to it. I'm willing to cut some slack but the more you represent yourself as a person of faith the more I expect you to act like it. If you're supposed to treat your body like a temple don't treat it like an amusement park. If you tell me with one breath about your good deeds for the temple and then turn around and complain about how much you tithe expect me to tune you out. Ugh.
I'm no angel and have never claimed to be. I'll try to raise Jack to recognize that gambling and alcohol can be addicting and should be handled carefully. I'll raise him with as strong a moral compass as I can to steer him through bad situations. Ideally at the center of all of this will be the understanding that he's responsible for his own actions and his reputation rides on every one.
Want to wear a cross? Feel the need to hang an Icon in your cube? Need to wear a turban? I'm fine with all of these things. Just don't expect me to take you seriously if your newfound faith's foundation is as substantial and sturdy as a trailer park in the path of a tornado.
What's next? "Honor thy Mother and Father by breaking their rules, crashing their car and vomiting upon their living room carpet after drinking too much." "Thou shalt covet your neighbors wife AND power tools."
Bleah!
Posted by Jim at 01:01 AM | Comments (0)
April 04, 2005
"Only one more game..."
We left at 3ish on Friday and didn't get to the farm until almost 11 on Friday night. Jack slept most of the way and we only needed to stop a couple of times for a bottle or pants change. (Which is how I now measure trips.)
Saturday night game report: wow! Great night to be an Illini fan and the matchup with NC tonight should make it a great game. Here's hoping they crush the Tarheels. I'll write more tomorrow night because dial up is proving to be a pain in my backside as far as the pictures I took at the game. I need our highspeed connection to upload them if I intend to be done sometime soon.
Wish the Illini luck tonight and me tomorrow. (I drive back on my own with Jack.) It should be an interesting 36 hours.
Posted by Jim at 09:25 AM | Comments (0)
April 05, 2005
"Roadtrip of the Damned..."
Ooof.
Well that was a long day. 7+ hours in the car with Jack and only about 3 of them with him asleep. When we got home the Racetracks were headed to our new Las Margaritas that opened up in our local "hood" and said "You look worn out." Understatement of the century...
Pictures from the weekend are forthcoming. Here's one of Fabulous Babe amongst her fellow Orange Clad Illini fans:
While Monday night didn't quite go like we wanted it was still a great season. The best in Illini history actually. As I pointed out to a miserable Fabulous Babe the amount of money that the school will receive for being in the final game is astronomical. The basketball program will be doing well for years.
Snickelbritches has been a handful tonight. You would think he's been couped up in a car all day...
Posted by Jim at 11:25 PM | Comments (0)
"Time to Google what the Globe and Mail can't print."
It seems that while I was gone there's been a bit of a stir in Canadian politics. (I'm always the last to know these sorts of things.) The irony is that now American blogs are covering the news due to a judge's ruling that forbids details from being published in Canada. The testimony in the case is pretty damning of the previous Liberal government and some of the current Liberal government's members.
One of Fabulous Babe's favorite writers is Michelle Malkin. Michelle has a handy dandy page of links that will satisfy anyone with an interest in what's going on in Canada, why the Canadian Press can't write about it, how American blogs are covering it and the importance of free speech in a free society.
Please have a look if you're interested here.
No I am still not turning this into a political blog. This is mostly a public service to my friends in Canada who ought to have the straight dope as to what is going on.
Back to our regular programming...
Posted by Jim at 11:36 PM | Comments (0)
April 06, 2005
"Bunnies, Bunnies everywhere..."
A few weeks ago I was looking through the library trying to find a few books to bring home for us to read to Jack for bedtime. It's not that I don't like "What Mom's can't do" or "Do Dinosaurs clean their rooms?" but after the one zillionth reading things just get old after awhile. Lo and behold I found "Astro Bunnies".
Astro Bunnies is easily one of the cutest books I had seen in a while. After a couple of pages I checked it out and it soon became a favorite with Fabulous Babe.
"Astro Bunnies see a star, Think they'd like to Go that far." How can you go wrong with lyrics like that? (I just discovered you can sing it to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" which is too cool for school.) The pictures of the bunnies in their space suits are great and I'll tip you off to look for the bunnies friends with 3 ears...
The same author and artist team, Christine Loomis with Ora Eitan, have also produced Scuba Bunnies and Cowboy Bunnies, equally entertaining and appropriately illustrated. (My personal favorite is still "Astro Bunnies".
The author has had an interesting career and has written several books for travelling with children. (None of which would have helped me on the trip with Jack today.) We haven't read those but they're on my short list for the long haul.
I love children's books that stir the imagination. The pictures of bunnies donning space suits, wetsuits, cowbow outfits is great stuff. Even better is the ending images of bunnies, post adventures, coming home to be welcomed by a mommy bunny. Just the sort of stuff you want your child to see. I was reminded of "The Spaceship Under the Apple Tree" which is woefully out of print as of my writing this.
Highly recommended so go forth and buy! Then you too can accompany the bunnies on their adventures in space, underwater and beyond.
Posted by Jim at 12:08 AM | Comments (0)
"Rotten Apple..."
Fabulous Babe's birthday present from last year, the Mini iPod, gave up the ghost a few weeks ago. I called Apple to see about having it serviced under the warranty.
"We can't do that."
It seems that Apple's internal system showed an original purchase date of when I ordered the darn thing. After 20 minutes of providing airbill #'s that were still good a year later, invoice information and a great deal of being pleasant through gritted teeth I managed to get a reasonable person who sent out the return authorization number.
*whew*
At this point Apple is replacing the entire unit. (Including the inscription which is why I ordered it from Apple directly.) I find some irony that despite having all of the facts in front of her the customer service rep was still being forced to tow the party line of honoring the original ship date vs. the actual ship date. I've been supporting these people since 1979 and this is the thanks I get? Bah. (I still have my Apple II+ with the two disk drives and the graphics tablet that causes the user to get dizzy from the RF interference.) I appreciate a policy but this was ridiculous.
There's a lesson for Jack here. When dealing with these sorts of things make sure you always kill them with kindness. One cross word and I would have been SOL immediately.
Posted by Jim at 12:15 AM | Comments (0)
"Is it ok if I just mark the whole thing up in red ink?"
Fabulous Babe asked me to read her essays for her application into the Executive Mastery of Business Aggravation program tonight. Other good news on that front is that a co-worker of hers, a graduate of the program she wants to enter, has written a nice letter of recommendation and made some other efforts. Other co-workers are finishing their letters and we should hear something in a few weeks. I’ve offered to bake cookies and distribute them as bribes in an effort to help but Fabulous Babe has declined my modest efforts.
Jack was pretty funny tonight. He sat with me and watched “Sullivan’s Travels” tonight and we had a good time. (I think I got more out of Veronica Lake than he did.) At one point I got him laughing hysterically and hearing him giggle and snort was like hearing a breathtaking aria. It’s amazing how little things your children do can make all the pains and hurt seem to flow away like nothing.
Jack is clinging more now than he used to, sometimes its affection, sometimes its need. It's a change in behavior and another part of his growing up. The motor coordination is coming along and the fact that he can now hug you is just one of the benefits.
I've also noticed that when I carry him upstairs to go to bed he looks around very seriously as he examines the overhead chandelier, the painting my mother did for our wedding present and the steps. Each time, despite the previous trips, he looks around for something new, the possibilities, not the previous experiences. Maybe he’s on to something.
Posted by Jim at 11:32 PM | Comments (0)
April 10, 2005
"I told you he would be driving before he crawls..."
A couple of weeks ago I had posted to the Miata.net website that it would be nice to have a meetup where we could all "ooh" and "aah" over each others cars and then go for lunch somewhere. After a few posts here and there we agreed to meet up on Saturday.
While Fabulous Babe wrestled with Sir Drip A Lot, who's battling a slight cold and cough, I took the Baby car out for a wash. When I got back I took Jack outside with me:
That's our boy behind the wheel. The wind tossed hair and up to something grin came almost immediately after I sat him down. He played with the steering wheel and brake some but wasn't able to reach the stick.
If you're wondering his shirt has little Tikis on it. He looked very much the tacky tourist on Saturday. (Even wearing dark socks.)
After leaving Jack with the neighbors we headed off to the Capitol building in St. Paul. When we got there a number of Miatas were already there. This is what it looked like:
You can tell the folks with aftermarket engines and parts: their hoods are up. (I'm so green with envy. *chuckle*)
The crowd was pretty evenly split. Some were from the Miata group that loves to Autocross and race and their cars were really something to see. This is tempting to both of us and on Saturday Fabulous Babe was asking me about Turbochargers. (Her grandfather used to race automobiles and my dad used to race MG's.)
A few were from the group that's older and likes to drive and eat. The group has a reputation for being a bit stand offish and snooty that one of them lived up to on Saturday with Fabulous Babe. Most of the members weren't which made things easier on the whole.
The majority of the people who showed up were pretty easy going people, close to our ages, who just wanted to use the day as an excuse to go for a drive and see other cars. We met a lot of great people: call signs Daan, Boozer, Bionic and the more normally named Steve, Vincent and Jeff. (I've left some people out but I am crap with names.)
Here's another shot of the line up. That's ours sitting front and center with the stripes and the license plate that reads "Got Zoom". Fabulous Babe liked the license plate to the right better: "SPF Zero". When the capitol police car pulled up one guy scrambled to put the new tabs on his license plate which caused a chuckle.
I can't stress how much fun a Miata (MX-5) is. Mazda has made over 750,000 of them and if you can find one on the cheap you should buy it. (1994 or later. The 89-93's have a weaker motor and some other bugs.) Easy to own, fun to drive and, in Jack's case, his wheels for prom.
The best part is that you get to share the Miata wave which is where you wave at other Miata owners and you both grin because you know how much fun it is.
Posted by Jim at 11:33 PM | Comments (0)
"Outta my way!"
We had the Racetrack's over for dinner on Saturday night. Kate's got the world's landspeed record for crawing and makes Jack look like a big slug. She's a riot to watch as she bulldozes past everything to get to where she wants to go. (Including elbowing Jack out of the way at one point to gails of laughter.)
She's fun to watch as she would stick her head in thing or poke around where she thought something was interesting. She can pull herself up really well and that can be a chuckle too.
That's her looking back while checking out Jack's Exersaucer. She's becoming quite the little lady.
Which is why we really roared with laughter when she crawled over to Jack and stole the Nuk out of his hand and plopped it into her mouth. Jack looked bewildered and Kate went on her merry way.
The Racetrack's prior claims that Kate doesn't use a Nuk has now been completely discredited: The Racetracks revealed that Kate simply steals them from the other children at daycare. I'm hoping this isn't the start of a life of crime.
On related Racetrack news, one of the ladies from Mrs. Racetrack and Fabulous Babe's book club is now expecting. (I was on an information embargo for a while.) She's do later this year and for my purposes around here I'm going to call her Mrs. Dramatic Lifestyle Change. Trust me, the title is going to be well deserved.
Posted by Jim at 11:48 PM | Comments (0)
April 11, 2005
"I'm big in Doha... AND Dubai."
I got a nice comment/email from a friend of Natasha's yesterday. Dalia has a son, Sanad, that is a month or so younger than Jack. (I think Dalia might have the same bouncy chair we do for Jack if I remember the picture correctly.)
The power of the internet and circles of friends never ceases to amaze me. Despite wide differences in background and location I now "know" someone on the far side of the world who I share the uncommon task of properly raising a child. (I think it goes a long way to understanding and spoiling stereotypes.)
Here's hoping that in 30 years Sanad and Jack sit down to some nice coffee on a breezy day somewhere halfway in between Dubai and St. Paul and chat about how nutty their parents are. Maybe they'll be post pals or the electronic version that the next few years will bring.
Until then perhaps I can get El Jefe, on his next trip to Dubai, to have lunch or dinner with Duri, Dalia and Sanad.
Hint. Hint.
Posted by Jim at 12:12 AM | Comments (0)
"I think he needs another haircut."
This was what greeted me when I walked into the nursery this morning and got stinkerbelle out of his sleeper:
Pretty scary. With that hair he looks like a roadie for Motley Crue. The scratch on his face was the tip off that his nails needed a trim yesterday. That "I've been up to something!" grin was the tip off to what was in his underwear this morning. (Ugh.)
If you listen carefully you can just hear him say:
"Where did I leave that bottle of "Yukon Jack" I had last night? *hic*"
Mercifully, clothes seem to make the man:
This is the other shirt I bought at Target at the same time I bought the Tiki shirt he wore Saturday. The hair is still a wreck but everything else is pretty reasonable.
All in all the typical little boy: a bit frayed at the edges but nothing that significantly deters from the whole package.
Posted by Jim at 06:39 AM | Comments (0)
April 12, 2005
"My Kung Fu is better than Your Kung Fu."
I had a great Marx Brothers moment in our house yesterday. Jack fought me closing the buttons on his shirt and was doing an admirable job of striking my hands out of the way with every attempt. No matter how fast I was he was right back to moving my hands away. I was getting frustrated and he was holding firm.
Finally I stepped back and distracted him by handing him a rattle. This bought me the minute I needed and our Shao-Lin master of Diaper Fu was dressed.
Fabulous Babe had the same experience during dinner on Saturday. Every attempt she made to get the spoon in Jack's mouth was thwarted by Jack blocking or grabbing the utensil.
A distant friend of mine, who was married to my senior Prom date for a while, once demonstrated how to grab a butterfly knive from someone doing all that silly flipping and spinning with one: "You just have to time it right." (While not the sharpest knive in the drawer he must have been reasonably good at it because he still had all of his fingers and no real scars.) Watching Jack on Saturday was like that: A blur of motion followed by a splattering of food across Jack's bib and face, a sigh of frustration from Fabulous Babe and a grin from Jack.
Fortunately the Ninja Union (Local 104) requires all applicants to be able to crawl before being accepted into the apprentice program. Once Jack manages that feat we can then have the sit down chat about long term career prospects for the martial arts, both the pros, Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris, and the cons, Steven Segal and those awful American Ninja movies.
Posted by Jim at 12:16 AM | Comments (0)
April 15, 2005
"Nice hat."
This week it was time for the 9 month check up with Doctor Molotov. It?s hard to believe Jack?s only been around for 9 months. (I know that reading this website it seems to have been much longer but we?re working on hiring an editor.) At this point changes seem to be happening as fast as you blink.
Figuring it was a special occasion I made sure to find an outfit for Jack that conveys who he is and where he?s going..
Here?s Jack hanging out in the waiting room. Mom added the hat which sort of sets off the whole ensemble but who am I to argue. (Despite liking floral shirts even I know not to add plaid to the mix.) Looking at him sitting there all I can think is that he needs a fishing rod.
That?s the apprehensive Jack look. Fortunately no shots were required this time and that means a much happier trip. He?s still fighting a wheezing cough which won?t go away but otherwise Jack?s fine. Jack?s currently in the 75th to 80th percentiles on everything. He?s almost 30 inches long and he weighs 22 pounds right now. (Everyone agrees he?s lost weight this week while under the weather.) Head measurement is somewhere between enormous and gigantic. (Almost 20 I think.) Here?s hoping there?s some common sense beneath all that hair.
We got him home and when I set him down he just sort of gave me the ?Now what?? look. This might be my favorite picture in a while where he?s just sitting quietly and calmly.
Of course it didn?t last long. One chorus of ?Pattycake? and we were off to the races. That?s our son: from picturesque cherub to arm flailing goofball in two heartbeats.
Posted by Jim at 12:24 AM | Comments (0)
"Can you throw her up on the rack, align the chassis and top off the oil?"
Today is part two of Fabulous Babe's birthday present. A few weeks ago on her birthday I got her satellite radio for her car. (Which involved me crawling around inside the trunk of her car and slicing my hand open on the firewall.) The other half of her birthday is today: Spa day!
I'm sending FB off for the "Montage Retreat" at The Speedwash and Beauty Boutique today with the hopes that some of her stress level will drop. We'll see if it works. Last year the ladies came back from the day on Cloud 9. I'm hoping that when she gets home she'll just glide in the house like those european dancers who take such small steps they appear to glide on wheels. (And who defy a Google search so I could link to them.)
I can't say that I have ever had services rendered that place me somewhere close to what Fabulous Babe gets out of her spa days. When we lived in Seattle her favorite was Juan Valdez, and in Ontario she and the posse, my Canadian Sister, Mrs. Canadian Hotness and Miss Thing, all used to tumble around Our Lady of Eternal Relaxation. All come highly recommended.
Happy birthday hon.
Posted by Jim at 12:57 AM | Comments (0)
"The Neighborhood"
Every spring I'm astounded by how much the kids in our neighborhood have grown over the winter. It's like someone through a switch on the Miracle Grow milk replacer between October and April.
Yikes! Now I know I'm married to someone who works for Monolithic Peoples Dairy Co-Operative, I just used the term "milk replacer".
We saw some of the neighbors the other day when we walked over to see The King and Priscilla's new puppy. (Their two kids were in the thick of a throng of children that had descended on their swingset, sandbox, slide, etc.) The King and I traded notes on how much the slide/swing cost and I cringed when I realized how soon we would be writing that check. (I also vowed then to build Jack a frontier fort so he could get a decent game of cowboys and indians going.)
The kids in our neighborhood all fuss over Jack when he's out. Every last one of them call him "Baby Jack" and I told Fabulous Babe the other day he's going to be the tag along kid in a few years. (Younger than most but still trying to keep up with the older kids.) I'm sure he and Kate will be in cahoots though.
I've not heard what this years spontaneous neighborhood improvement project (SNIP) is going to be for everyone. Last year it was a spontaneous eruption of pools, which we opted out of when we chose the "baby" option instead. Previous spontaneous neighborhood improvement projects have been decks and sprinkler systems. I'm guessing it will be landscaping. I doubt we'll start seeing lawn jockeys but maybe we'll get a couple of those weird reflective balls on a pedestal. (Which have been around forever. I have a picture of one in the yard next to my grandfather from 1926.)
We have a new set of neighbors who moved here from Illinois. They're childless so the ladies have begun pumping their house full of the "have a baby" gas that worked so well for us. Time will tell. She hosted a home party a couple of weeks ago and Fabulous Babe tells me they're nice.
Sometimes I think it's a little dull in the 'burbs and then there are other times, like when I read a story about a Minneapolis street gang dragging a 13 year old kid off of bus to beat and rob him in broad daylight, that I'm glad we live where we live. Cities have a lot to offer but need to be safe if they expect people to live in them.
Now if only we can get rid of the mosquitos. I swear I'm hitting every standing pool of water I can find with chlorine tablets.
Posted by Jim at 01:05 AM | Comments (0)
"That's why we call it the soggy froggy."
Stinkerbelle as I was leaving this morning:
If only you could have heard him snoring. It was like a lumber farm.
Posted by Jim at 06:59 AM | Comments (0)
April 21, 2005
"Begone spam monkeys!"
I just deleted over 250+ spam posts pending approval in various comments sections.
Ugh.
None the less if you're interested in getting parts of you anatomy to take on elephantine proportions I can steer you to the people that seem confident of helping you accomplish it.
Ick!
Posted by Jim at 08:32 PM | Comments (0)
"I couldn't see you because of all the teenage girls."
Here's hoping I'll have to use that phrase with Jack someday.
My friend, Mr. Urban Blight, is in town for refresher training for his job. (He's a crash sled technician.) He got in on Sunday and after running around doing gooby train stuff we all went to dinner Sunday night. (Las Margaritas of course. It's right here. If you're local and haven't gone yet you need to.) After dinner we retired to the basement to put paid to various forms of alien life via Halo 2.
I had forgotten how funny UB can be. When I went to pick him up at the hotel this week for dinner I pulled up to the lobby door of the hotel but three vans of teenage girls, here for some sort of state competition, were unloading. I pulled to the curb, parked and got out only to see him fighting through the crowd. He grinned, used the line above and then said some other scandelous things that caused the girls to giggle, the Chaperones to scowl and made me realize I'm surrounded by some very funny people.
The good news is that my train layout met with UB's approval. I think I've said before he's the zen master of layouts but don't take my word for it. Check out his work in progress: Mr. Urban Blight's webpage.
Posted by Jim at 10:41 PM | Comments (0)
"Laying on your face and crying is NOT crawling."
All efforts to get Jack to crawl continue to fail. He's fine climbing a bit but the overall scoot across the floor at Mach 5, a la Kate, doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon.
I border between being concerned and chastising myself as a complete nitwit. Kate's a month older, significantly lighter and everything I've read tells me it's normal. Jack likes to stand and can pick himself up if you hold out some fingers so that isn't a fear either. I think I'm just a worry wart.
We had the Racetrack's over for cherry pie the other night. (Mr. Racetrack and I are both recovering pie addicts.) I invited them before asking Fabulous Babe which got me The Look since she was a little under the weather and the house hadn't been picked up.
If you don't know what The Look is here's the definition care of Garage Logic:
"The expression one gets from one's spouse when one does something incredibly moronic. Women are born with a natural ability to give "the look," but men can acquire ability over time."
I can assure you that Fabulous Babe was born with the ability to deliver The Look faster than than the speed of light. Sometimes The Look is delivered before I even get a chance to be a moron as a sort of warning. (Like when she caught me looking at a new Mazdaspeed Miata at the dealership a few weeks ago.)
Jack shouldn't have too much to worry about in regards to The Look for a while. I will hazard a guess that the boy's teenage years will see some shifting of her gaze from me to Jack. We'll see.
Posted by Jim at 11:01 PM | Comments (0)
April 24, 2005
"I think he might need a shave too."
Convincing Fabulous Babe that Jack needed a haircut was much easier than last time. It only took a week of me pointing out that he looked like a mop before she finally agreed that it was time for a trim. (I told her it was that or we make him wear his fishing hat morning, noon and night.)
This is the start of the exercise. We used the same gameplan as last time with Fabulous Babe holding the boy down as I attempt to distract him into looking in the right direction to make the cutting easier. This is him shooting my barber the ?And you are?? look.
Here come the clippers! Fortunately Jack saw something outside of the window that drew his attention. He really didn?t squirm a lot and the clippers don?t really bother him.
This is the closest we got to him squirming at all. I think the clippers actually ticked him more than anything.
We needed him to look down so I got low to the floor and the camera red eye light did the magic.
Here?s the top getting ripped down to a reasonable level. During all of this he would just close his eyes and occasionally sigh like he was bored as the hair passed in front of his face.
The finished product. Jack has a terrible cowlick in the back that means we?ll either have to keep his hair short, a la me, or longer like it currently is. That?s our little Dennis the Menace.
Jack proved again we?ve lucked out and have a pretty easy going kid at this point. After the haircut we went to Las Margaritas for lunch and he was really good. (A bit excited at the end with some mild Cheerio tossing but nothing major.) With my luck he?ll grow out of it soon but while it lasts it makes things like Saturday go very well.
A quick word too for those of you who haven't taken your child for a haircut yet. My barber cut my hair on Thursday and as soon as she saw me she said "Oh! I have something for you!" It turns out she had a certificate for Jack's first haircut. Before you go make sure your local establishment has something similar. It's perfect for laying in your memory book along with that sprig of hair you'll end up saving.
Posted by Jim at 10:46 PM | Comments (0)
"The Man in the Blue Shirt and Black Pants."
Crashing realization today while I was pumping gas into Fabulous Babe's car. I watched a young man get out of a car to set up a "Open House" sign for a real estate agency. His attire caused me to stop and think a great deal about where we as a culture have come from and gone back to.
We're now officially 50 years removed from Sloan Wilson's "The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit." My copy was found in a Goodwill about 10 years ago and it's message about the fate of those who returned from World War II and entered the business world is very telling. It's a great book on life in the 1950's that few people my age have ever read.
What struck me yesterday was that the uniform of the novel, the ubiquitous "Grey Flannel Suit" has now become "Black Slacks with a Blue Shirt." To many young men today favor wearing that uniform as sort of a bridge of comfort to their customers and coworkers. Where I work is rampant with the ensemble. (It's beginning to become easy to recognize salesmen by just looking for it.) I know my closet certainly has several of the offending combination but less than it previously did. (Thanks to the wife.)
How did we get here? Is it the sinful nature of the Gap, Banana Republic and other chain stores that vomit forth the same combinations time and time again that go to feed the slathering clothes buying masses? In my case I'm tall and have deluded myself that stripes just make me look taller and thinner than I am. (Perhaps not a bad thing.) How did the one shade of blue come to be more favored than anything else?
I have to say I was uncomfortable at the parallels between the novel and life and work today. Are we working at becoming nothing more than a bland collective of similarly attired men working at nothing that really matters? Ugh! (Sorry for the philosophical questions.)
The next time you see someone in this damnable combination, that Blue Shirt and Black Pants uniform, stop them. Point out to them that they're becoming lost in a sea of knit wool and cotton. Tell them you favor the individual and the flair that each person brings. Tell them that the clothes make the man and "wardrobe" doesn't mean "bland and similar." I'm almost at the point of wanting to see people dress themselves poorly just because they would at least be doing something new.
When I dress Jack in the morning I always try to come up with new combinations or outfits that compliment his mood or style. The problem with the workforce's new standard is that has become a uniform of conformity, comfort and safety. My question is at what cost?
Posted by Jim at 11:32 PM | Comments (0)
"You're still a nimrod."
We had a couple of friends over for dinner last night and midway through dinner a tennis ball careens off of one of our windows to crash to a stop on our deck. I walked out to get it and was met by a small boy, about 10 or 12, running up our steps gasping for breath.
"Are you looking for this?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Looking down I see the twin boys from next door grinning up at me and realize they're in the midst of a baseball game. After asking them "Who's this?" they tell me it's their cousin. It's pretty clear we're the victims of a lucky home run that went from their yard to ours. I tossed the ball back and went back in the house.
A little while later I hear the kids in our backyard. Looking out I can see that they've moved the base up and now are fielding hits in our yard. No worries. A little while later I glance out and see the cousin slowly grinding a patch of our yard with his shoes. *sigh* While I'm trying to decide if I want to say anything he makes my mind up for me: He starts to tear bark off of one of the trees we have in the back yard that's been struggling to survive for the last year or so. Then, for no particular reason, he begins kicking it. Ow!
I head for the deck and let loose with a "Oi! Nimrod!" which captures his attention.
"Who me?" (Sheepish look and slow backing away from the tree.)
"Yes you. I don't care if play ball in the yard but don't beat up on the trees. What did that tree ever do to you?"
"Um. Nothing."
"Right."
I then went back inside certain that my title of "Grouchy Old Fart" was now firmly established. (The twins from next door were laughing so I didn't feel too bad.) A couple more glances outside saw the kid still wearing a hole in the lawn but staying away from the tree which was good enough.
Sure enough a few minutes later the ball smacks the window again and we're back to square one. I walk out and pick up the tennis ball intent on just tossing it back. The cousin is back running up the steps and as I turn to hand him the ball he says:
"I think you should apologize for calling me a Nimrod" which he delivered with his arms crossed, full of indignation, piss and vinegar.
Just handing the ball back was not longer an option. Smiling widely I leaned over, looked him right in the eye and delivered each line carefully and clearly. It went something like this:
"Why should I have to apologize. You're the one who's decided to use my backyard without asking permission and then decided to beat up my tree. The yard business doesn't bother me that much and your cousins can tell you I'm pretty easy going. Unfortunately you wearing out a spot on the grass or kicking and damaging one of our trees goes a bit beyond that. I called you a Nimrod because the title fits. Why should I apologize when you acted rudely. Here's your ball. Now go play in someone elses yard."
As I was berating him someone who looked like his father was standing behind him grinning from ear to ear and shaking his head "yes". Worse still for him the twins were roaring with laughter and started to tease him as he began moving away. The tips of his ears were turning a brighter and brighter red with each step down the stairs.
The twins know they're good to play in the back yard. (Their whole family is awesome and they watch Jack from time to time.) Last year the twins older brother had friends over and we played a practical joke on one of his buddies who had been standing in our back yard being a twit. (He was swearing loudly, chewing and spitting tobacco and tearing out grass by the handful for each play of a Nerf football game.) At the high sign from the older brother I activated the sprinklers with my remote control while I was standing on the deck.
I don't mind them hitting the house. (I expect shattered windows from time to time, especially as Jack gets older.) I don't really mind the grass business even if it's a pain in the ass to replant. The tree business is just a problem due to the time and effort involved. It was the snotty attitude that got him the lecture.
While I know I was a little sh!t from time to time growing up I don't ever remember being purposefully rude. I know if we catch Jack acting like that we'll both be pretty disappointed.
Posted by Jim at 11:55 PM | Comments (0)
April 25, 2005
"I got an order of teeth. Sign here."
Fabulous Babe and I were having playtime with Jack tonight after dinner. At one point he was on his back laughing while I was giving him raspberries on his stomach. With all the giggling we had a chance to check out the tooth situation.
Jack has about 6-8 teeth along the top that are ready to break through the gumline. My guess is we'll see fangs within a couple of weeks. The teething ring is now going to be his bestest bestest friend.
Jack's pretty easy to put to bed. When he rubs his eyes a couple of times we know to pack him upstairs, change into the rammy jammy ding dongs. (Fabulous Babe's nickname for pj's.) A bottle, 3-4 nuks sprinkled around the crib and the soggy froggy and it's off to sleepy sleep land.
Overnight Jack magically transforms into Sideways Bob who spins and rolls while sleeping until he finally gets tangled up in the cribs bars and can't move. Once he's managed to immobilize himself he begins sawing wood punctuated by the occasional snort and grunt.
Posted by Jim at 08:16 PM | Comments (0)
"Don't mind the flames boy, that's seasoning."
I'm a charcoal guy. Always have been, always will be. In the 5+ years we've been together a charcoal grill has been fine for me.
Fabulous Babe on the other hand, always the practical one, has wanted a propane grill. She's the cooking afficiando and not having to wait for a fire to get to a proper state would be nice.
It's not that I'm one of those odd religious zealots about propane. I don't use the "propane tank will blow up and destroy our house" excuse. I just like the fire and smell. Other than that I'm game.
Our old grill barely survived the move from Seattle. When it finally began to fall apart I found one at Target a year ago marked down from $150 to $25 that was to be our last charcoal grill. It annoyed me however and proved to be awkward to work with. Around October it went curbside on Friday, bound for the land fill.
This past week I sat down with a soda and called Weber. Their 800 number staff are simply excellent. We talked about who would use the grill more, our style of cooking, etc. By the end of the call I had narrowed down our choices to a couple of grills.
I went upstairs with my notes and consulted with an almost asleep Fabulous Babe about what she preferred on the grill:
"Socks."
Teaches me not to consult my beloved honey boo when the lights are off when I walk in the room. I woke her up a bit, got some answers I could use, and went back downstairs to the laptop. (Where much of this is written after she totters off to bed.) Off to Amazon.
I use Amazon for a lot of price comparison. Where I used to favor Home Depot for tools now Amazon is looking better and better. Mostly because I hate sales tax and shipping charges. It's not like I am ever in a hurry to buy things so a wait isn't a problem.
An hour later I had narrowed it down. This years models, with as far as I could tell the same features as last years, were sky high price wise. As much as I love my wife I wasn't spending $2000 on a grill. Shipping on these things is nuts too: $150 up.
I settled on a grill that I thought was perfect for our family. It doesn't have the 57,600 btu that the others had but 47,000 btu should be fine for two adults used to measuring handfuls of charcoal. It doesn't have the smoker or built in rotisserie but I can't remember the last time I smoked any meat or need to spit roast a hog. We're 4 burners not 6 but we do have the side burner which will make brats nicely.
Best of all? Free shipping! Woo hoo!
I'm expecting to be assembling this thing Thursday or Friday. My only experience putting a propane grill together was with my friend the Astronomer. (Who's still available by the way. Better hurry.) That experience was marred by his horrid now ex-wife who stood worthlessly by complaining about our a.) speed of assembly, b.) a minor scratch on the hood of the grill, c.) our technical skills in regards to the assembly and d.) everything that struck her while she stood by during the course of the 3 hours I was there.
I'm still of the opinion he needs to be nominated for sainthood for taking that woman off the market for as long as he did.
Wish me luck.
Posted by Jim at 11:24 PM | Comments (0)
April 26, 2005
"Aren't you a little short for a Director?"
April 28th is "Bring your daughter or son to work" day.
Jack won't be participating. Neither Fabulous Babe or I are interested in subjecting our offices to the full "Jack experience" just yet. Not that it wouldn't provide some comic relief.
In the beginning I found this holiday to be pretty craptacular. Originally it seemed to have been thought up by angry feminists and "womyn" with axes to grind. (Mostly reminding me of the horrible "Womens literature" class I was stuck in at University.) The holiday began life as "Bring your daughters to work" day. Boys, being icky of course, were unnecessary and their participation wasn't desired as they represented the future of the oppressive class. *sigh*
Thankfully the super majority of reasonable people in our country, mostly parents, said "Hold it a second there sparky" and mandidated the fix so that little boys could participate as well. (I'm always skeptical when an oppressed class of victims feels that to succeed they need to oppress another class.) The first year I saw both boys and girls it seemed to work out fine.
Last year there were very few kids in my office. I remember a few but not any overwhelming numbers. From what I've seen the kids get pretty bored after the first few hours. The stuff they want to play with is denied to them and the stuff they can play with generally sucks. "See honey? The staple remover is like a fish! See?"
I think the best path in our case for the future will be for us to split Jack up between us for a day. That way he isn't too bored and he doesn't totally wreck a complete day. We've got years to plan this and knowing Fabulous Babe she'll have a Powerpoint worked up by Thursday for me.
Really the idea isn't to force kids into a career of their parents choosing. The idea is to expose kids to what their parents do for a living. (Which in some cases may prove to be so scary the kids run.) Children often times see the world more clearly than adults do. Last year one of the kids in attendance was asked what they thought and candidly pointed out that the meetings took too long because all the grownups did was repeat what the others said. She wanted to know why someone didn't lead the meeting so that it wouldn't take so much time.
I would pay $500 to have videotape of the managers face when she said that.
If you have a kid that's old enough to participate I think dragging them out of school on Thursday and having them tag along is highly appropriate.
Posted by Jim at 12:38 AM | Comments (0)
"Let me tell you something. She looked HOT in it."
We were doing some cleaning around the house tonight and I finally broke down to tackle my t-shirt drawers. I'm finally comfortable admitting that I might need to weed out some of my older In-N-Out Burger t-shirts that are looking a little sad. (I'm also getting ready to place my annual birthday order so it works out.)
In the midst of digging around I came across a few that have sentimental value. There's a shirt from Ooba's that El Jefe brought us. Suffice to say that if you're ever in Seattle and don't eat at Ooba's you're missing one of the finest restaurants the Pacific Northwest has to offer. I found the t-shirts from when we saw Clapton in Seattle. ("Tickets are HOW much?") There were a few others that I tucked away and a few that I pitched.
At the very bottom was the black t-shirt I bought the first time I saw the Reverand Horton Heat in 1993ish. If you visit the website of the good Reverand it's the "Man's Ruin" one. (Mine's so old that the logo on the front is way out of date.) If you've not discovered the Texas guitar rock of the Reverand well just order his best of CD and your ears will thank you.
Anyway, the last time the shirt was worn was when Fabulous Babe put it on for the Reverand's appearance at Grand Old Days two years ago in St. Paul. The day we decided to have Jack.
I just folded it back up and stuck it in the drawer. Some things you should never part with.
(As soon as she reads this she'll just shake her head and say "He can never throw anything out.")
Posted by Jim at 10:27 PM | Comments (0)
"5 years is a Home Depot card isn't it?"
I'm starting to think about our anniversary.
Not sure what I am going to do this year. It's our 5th so I'm guessing that putting a bag of M&M's on the toilet seat lid for her to discover isn't the fast track to marital bliss.
Before you panic I've never done that. I did place all of her Valentine's day surprise on the toilet seat lid one year but that is because I wanted her to see it in the morning before she left for the gym at O-dark thirty.
Not sure what to do. Ideas are welcome so feel free to post away in the comments section. I'll be interested to see what you come up with.
Posted by Jim at 11:50 PM | Comments (0)
April 27, 2005
"If I keep telling myself I really didn't want them I'll believe it."
Well foo.
Just got my ass handed to me on ebay. I was trying to win a set of wheels and tires for the Miata. I had bid my max about a half an hour ago and then someone with more money than brains swooped in. He's placed a bid so high that he and the other guy bidding have driven the price up to an amount I'm not willing to pay.
The grand plan for Jack's eventual prom ride is pretty simple. I had a good chat with Jeremy, the tech God at Flyin Miata and he thought the plan was spot on. My dad heard it on Sunday night and, former MG racer than he is, thought it was the right thing to do.
This year:
New wheels and tires. Wheels will be Kosei K-1's and the tires will be Kumho Ecsta MX's.
Next year:
Suspension and sway bars. Flyin' Miata Stage 3 Suspension kit and all the stiffening a Miata can take.
2007:
Might be the year for the new brakes. We'll see. Maybe this is where we get the Chrome Roll bar. (Fabulous Babe saw one and thought it was really nice.) Who knows.
2008:
Turbo and clutch? (I'll be 40. Insert midlife crisis jokes here. Hee hee.)
The biggest expense down the road is going to be the engine. When Baby's engine hits the 155K mark it will be time to think of the full rebuild. That's going to be spendy. If we get everything I'm thinking about we are talking about a figure that's enough to buy another Miata.
At some point I want to strip her down to the frame for a complete rebuild, refurbish and repaint. Ideally that will be when Jack is old enough to help me do it so he'll have some sweat equity in his prom car. That's new dash, new seats, new carpet, etc. The stripes are a permanant feature.
Jeremy, my father and I are all agreed that from the outside the car needs to look stock. It's not about having neon underneath and looking like one of those morons in a lowered Honda Civic. It's about having a car that handles great and drives well.
Posted by Jim at 12:06 AM | Comments (0)
"?At least it didn?t come with those dippy kids, the guy with the remote and that abomination called Godzooky.?
Grillzilla arrived today!
I came home to find a box on our front porch the size of the Miata. While Fabulous Babe played with Jack I opened the box and hauled all of the pieces inside for assembly. I thought about leaving it outside but with the rain we’ve had I decided against it.
Assembly went quickly with the directions being clear and well illustrated. A few of the pieces are a little odd to work with due to their size but nothing too ungainly. Jack stood in the Exersaucer watching most of the time. He would occasionally yell some advice but the language barrier is still a problem.
It’s pretty good sized but I don’t have a sense for how much it weighs. I’ll get some pictures of Fabulous Babe next to it in a day or two a la her “new car” pose. I need to get the tank filled and then run through the “leak test” to make sure I’m not endangering our family. The dire warnings for why you have to do the “leak test” are, notably, inside the documentation for ownership. If they were outside no one would buy one of these things.
There were some nice ergonomic touches. The side platform has indentations for hanging grilling tools so that you always have what you need for high holy services at the Temple of Meat. The lid isn’t too heavy and the table platforms seem to be just the right size.
Fabulous Babe seems happy with Grillzilla but the acid test is to see what she thinks once she starts cooking with it.
P.S. The title is from the 1978-79 cartoon. The one word review: awful. If you haven't seen it's almost as bad as the movie from a few years ago.
Posted by Jim at 10:10 PM | Comments (0)
"Jefe. El Jefe."
We got some nice things in the mail today for Jack.
My Uncle and Aunt in Virginia, who I have to nickname, sent Jack an outfit and backpack that they purchased for him in France. The backpack looks like a bear and is adorable. The pants and shirt are for when he’s a bit older. So far our track record is on clothes Jack has received as gifts is excellent.
Jack also received a nice postcard from El Jefe. El Jefe has been kind enough to send Jack postcards from all over which I am keeping in a box. Hopefully Jack will get to visit all of these places again. Until that day he can sit by a window as he grows older and let his imagination carry him off.
Perhaps Jack will become the next Richard Haliburton. I was introduced to Haliburton in 5th grade by one of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Lowe. While dated in some ways his exploits were astounding. Born on the 9th day of the last century he did more in 39 years than most people do in a lifetime. His books, "Road to Romance"
El Jefe was in India for 24 hours and then had to leave. Sometimes I’m certain that his title, Director of Clever New Things, is all a cover for other activities. I think he’s become some sort of clandestine agent whose international travels keep all of us safe. When El Jefe’s not stopping super villains on their island hideaways, I have no doubts he’s using his wits and charm to make the world safe for Truth, Justice and Tim Hortons.
Of course this success comes with a terrible price: he’s too darn hot for his own good. El Jefe’s clean, articulate, not hard on the eyes, gainfully employed and just a nice guy. Add all of that up and you get a hotness rating that is off the chart. In fact, he’s so hot that he keeps stockpiles of hotness around the globe so that if his hotness gets too low while he’s traveling he can quickly top it off. That's hotness close to, but not quite, Fabulous Babe's level of hotness.
Ok. Maybe I’m exaggerating but still. Jack could certainly have worse for a role model.
Posted by Jim at 11:35 PM | Comments (0)
April 28, 2005
"Be nice. Your name could have been Pretty Poison."
After dinner the other evening we were discussing kids and names. One name came up that I hadn't heard before: "Boston" for a boy.
I think the name is fine. Granted I have no idea if place names are big right now but as far as naming your child after a city goes there are a lot worse.
Then again if the parents name their child after the 70's rock band you have trouble, loads of it. What's to prevent the brother being named "E.L.O." or "Foghat" on a whim? Worse still how about this: "Hi! These are the twins: “Kansas” and “Styx” and their sister, "Blue Oyster Cult”.
I recently read an article at the doctors office about how the last 10 years has seen a significant rise in the number of children being named after what are perceived to be luxury goods: Lexus, Hennessey, etc. It’s a bit more materialistic than I care and reeks of being a product endorsement. Then again maybe I just don’t remember the kids in my grade school named Chrysler or MD 20/20.
The goofy rock band names went on for a while the other night. “Bee Gee” was a good one. “Grand Funk” needs to have a zinger of a last name to really work. “Meatloaf” wasn’t as funny as you might think but “Kajagoogoo” just gives me the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.
Yours truly,
Wang Chung
Posted by Jim at 12:06 AM | Comments (0)
"I want my mommy!"
Fabulous Babe was out last night for work so it was just Jack and I for dinner. Jack was hungry and ate a pretty good sized meal: a big handful of Cheerios, a jar of carrots and most of a jar of applesauce.
Can I just go on record saying that the smell of Cheerios has always turned my stomach? Ugh. Of course everything about Jack now reeks of the darn things and I'm trapped with their stench until he moves out. *sigh*
After dinner it was playtime. Jack sat on the floor with his 9000+ Peek-a-Blocks and we played the "daddy stacks them and I knock them over" game. A lot of his play these days is just standing next to things and trying to balance himself while he holds on for dear life. Sometimes he takes a few steps between objects but wants to hold on to fingers for safety.
I've found that leaving the TV off makes things easier when playing with Jack because he isn't turning to see what the new noise is about. I'm not a big fan of the TV being on around him but understand that's not as practical as I might hope for. TV has it's uses but constant exposure isn't something I want to see going forward.
After we played for almost an hour and a half Jack started rubbing his eyes which is the cue for bedtime. We went upstairs and within a few minutes he was on the bed, surrounded by Nuks, snuggling Froggy and sawing lumber.
I went downstairs and started to get the trash ready for pickup and some general cleaning. (Those 9000+ Peek-a-Blocks figure into that heavily.) Pretty soon I got things to the point I felt like I was ahead enough to read the paper.
Nope. From upstairs comes the worst cry I've heard Jack make yet. I run upstairs figuring he's stuck somehow but when I open the door he's just laying sideways. When I went to pick him up Jack was screaming and shaking and thrashing uncontrollably.
I’ll admit I was terrified for a few seconds because I had never seen Jack like this. He was crying and screaming harder than anything we’ve encountered. His shaking was almost like a seizure it was so intense. To say it was unsettling is understatement.
Gathering him up off of the bed I held him as tight as I could and just started to whisper in his ear to try to get his attention. The shaking stopped after a few minutes but for about 15 minutes it was a hopeless task. I walked with him, I bounced him and all he wanted to do was cry and look for mom.
Yup. The entire time I held him he was trying to look everywhere to find mom. He would crane his head, move his whole body and do everything to try and find “Ma” which he repeated again and again.
When he stopped crying I went to the phone to try and call Fabulous Babe. (No dice.) We went downstairs to play but he was still keyed up and just wanted to sit and look around. When FB called back he smiled as I held the phone to his ear. After listening he just lounged around with his Nuk and waited for her to get home.
Physically there wasn’t anything wrong with him. The best I can figure is that he had a scary dream of some kind. When Fabulous Babe came home we tucked him in bed and he didn’t make a peep after that.
I said once before I wish I knew what babies dream about. I can only guess that last night he had a dream where his mommy wasn’t there or he woke up and was completely disoriented. When you’re two foot small that’s no fun.
Posted by Jim at 10:32 PM | Comments (0)