40 reasons...

"40 reasons not to spawn"

Saw this interesting article, and my first thought was:
She could only think of 40?!?!?

Sheesh, my kids give me 40 reasons before we're finished breakfast, and another 40 before I kick 'em out of the truck in front of the school... if they're lucky, it's their school... But that's why they make backpacks with pockets for maps and compasses, right?

The two lines that caught my eye:

The child is a kind of vicious dwarf, of an innate cruelty.

...maternity-leave provisions (16 weeks at full-time pay) and healthy cash payments for additional children (1,000 euros a month for each child after #2)

Ok, I don't know how much a Euro is, but it's gotta be alotta coin to be worth childbirth* -- and 4 months pay is plenty to provide the "vicious dwarf" with his/her own cable TV and a lock on the door...

You know I'm just kidding, the author is both French and wrestling with issues. So I made my own list, and realized I shouldn't count "no peace and quiet" for #'s 2, 5, 16, 21, and 32 through 39... and that most of the spots left on the list were taken by variations of either "the killer of desire/must check 12 times to make sure door is locked" and "it costs how much???" ...so I guess mine aren't that bad, and I'll keep them (the kids, not the reasons), despite being Frenched out of the 16 weeks pay...

...and, as of on cue, Son #3 just provided me with reason #41: they get in the shower wearing socks and a sweatshirt.

*I make no pretensions to knowing even the slightest idea regarding the pain of childbirth, and do not wish to be construed in any way as minimizing said pain. My hat is off, and all important parts tied tight, in respect for the anguish mothers endure to bring children into the world. But c'mon, for the right amount of zeros on the check, you'd do it all again, wouldn't you?

How To Gain 20 lbs in 4 Days

Who's idea was it to put a huge feast at the start of the long holiday weekend? The Four Days of Football (yes, I know the minor celebration of Thanksgiving is in the mix too, but let's focus on what's important) is a glorious national tradition, and should culminate in the massive gorging, instead of starting 96 hours of how much can I stuff in my gut, and where is that pair of 42" waist jeans?

Thursday was the turkey, of course, accompanied by the usual stuffing, potatoes, brownies, Newcastle, pecan pie, apple pie, more Newcastle, and another brownie. or two....

Friday was Cocktail Hour at Mom's, with olives, oysters, lox, caviar, cream cheese on all of the above, shrimp, pecan pie, quiche, lamb, apple pie, truffles, shrimp, unpronounceable cheeses, and can't let those shrimp the boys left on their plates go to waste...

Saturday the Sister got married (again, and sort of) so the union must be ceremoniously recognized with a meal! Carnitas, rice, cerveza, guacamole, margaritas, and cake...

not to mention all the left overs in between, I mean it's not good for the fridge to be so packed full, is it? Just doing my part to improve energy consumption efficiency...

So today, the sad (but full of Football) end of the long weekend, begets a tough choice -- celery with my water? Or just water? Then again, meatball sandwiches would be good. And a Newcastle, with chips, and lots of cheese, and there's a piece of pie hidden in the back of the fridge, behind the SlimFast shakes, and...

...and skip the jeans, where are The Wife's maternity sweat pants?

A Milestone

I just realized, as I went to compose and post #101, that my last post, the dubious literary achievement seen below, was my 100th blog post (that doesn't count my other blogs, but it does count the insignificant wastes of "ink" like this one here, so it all evens out)... anyway, just thought you might like to know... go buy a cake, or something....

How you doin'?

Heard from a dear old friend the other day, and she wanted to know what was going on in my world... I wanted to reply with more than a quick summarizing sentence, so I started thinking about what really was happening in my life lately. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was all the same ol' boring stuff -- so I told her I'd been in jail for 18 months, and I haven't heard from her since.

Not really. But I did make up a bunch of cool stuff, involving lottery winnings, world travel, and the opportunity to direct Spiderman IV... and, surprisingly, I haven't heard from her since.

Um, no. Not even close. But the lady in front of us at Vons won an iPod, I travel the freeways daily to and from school/practice/endless errands, and the latest Spidey film is on our Netflix list....

So what is going on in my world? At the risk of sounding like one of those 6 page family update Christmas card letters, here's a rundown of the latest...

• TMW&BWITW* is still the Queen of all hair stylists (contact me for her appointment #) and still very much loves her career. Her hair is deep dark red, cut in something called an a-line bob, I think, and she is hotter than ever. She plans on having Son #1 work for her at the Salon this holiday season, which should be quite the adventure for both of them. Between the two of them, her clients won't be able to get a word in. The Wife and I just celebrated anniversary #11. She enjoys walks, shopping, the beach, dinner & a movie, and hanging out in back watching the kids play. They don't make 'em any better than her....
• #1 son is in 8th grade, attempting to achieve straight A's for the reward of a cell phone, the absolute essential object to have for high school. Pencils? Books? Don't be silly, ya gotta have the phone. Between you & me, our money is safe, but he is trying so hard. It has been interesting watching him struggle with the whole puberty/maturity thing -- at times painful (will that voice just hurry up and change?), but mostly a joy. #1 has always been a joy, even at his most exasperating. He has also discovered MySpace and heavy metal, and using his limbs as post-it notes. His hair is always in his eyes, and his hat is always on his head. He is taller than all his grandparents, and weighs as much as a St. Bernard.
• Son #2 weighs as much as straw, but he seems to have kicked his height genes into high gear this year. Our 5th grader reads The Iliad, Gulliver's Travels and Ivanhoe, knocks his week's homework out in 20 minutes, and seems to have discovered the social side of school this year. He plays Pop Warner football (Go Cougars!), lives and breathes the Chargers, and wears his jersey to bed. My tough tackler is still scared of spiders and the dark, and plans on working in our haunted house next Halloween, despite never having actually stepped foot in one. He is the goofy one, strange of face and voice, and the leader in organizing games and adventures with the kids on the block. #2 is the caretaker of Trooper and Wreck, the 4 month old bearded dragons.
• 1st grader and consummate 6 year old #3 is learning to read, en Espanol y Ingles, and after fighting it for the past year has started to discover the coolness of books. He is totally amazed that I read some of the same exact stories when I was a kid, "so long, long, long, long time ago?!?!?" People say he is beautiful, and wonder where he got it from. Thanks. He also played football, although without #2's passion for the game; the interest was in what's for snack and when is the game over? I keep telling him that when the doctor predicted 6'5" he instantly became my retirement plan, so he better start loving push-ups.... #3 makes up entire days of classroom activity, in outlandish scope and amazing detail, never once coming close to what he actually did in school each day. He also sings double-LPs worth of songs in French, despite not knowing a single word of the French language.
• Turbo is fat and lazy, and barfs on the dining room rug once a week.
• I am "semi-retired" (not really, but it sounds better than "between jobs" or "still looking") and taking care of the boys & house & grocery shopping; Mr. Mom, if you prefer. I am going to school at Azusa Pacific University and will have my BA (Human Development / English, straight A's) in May, then it's on to the teaching credential program. So by this time next year I hope to be working as an elementary school substitute (I'm leaning towards being the mean sub by printing up surprise pop quizzes and practicing a surly demeanor). I have also been tutoring some 4th graders and coached the flag football team to a perfect season (ok, so it was 0 - 8, as in perfectly horrible. But they tried hard, and seemed to really enjoy the snacks). I have been trying to cook the ultimate pot roast, keep my garden safe from cat & kids, read a lot of kid's books, and spend too much time listening and listing... I am also attempting to re-write that last sentence with a lot more testosterone -- as you read it, try picturing me watching NASCAR, scratching my hairy chest and spitting on the floor, while opening a beer with my eye socket. Remember, I coach football, my wife is gorgeous, and the only daytime tv I watch is ESPN. While I work out. With a beer in my hand.

So there you have it. Too much of it, I'm sure. I didn't even get to my sexy new sister-in-law, my sister's Grand canyon elopement, the fires, and my parents spending the night. And the next night. And the night after that. I guess I'll save all that for the next time someone asks how I've been doing (if this didn't teach 'em)....

*The Most Wonderful & Beautiful Wife in the World

oh Tannenbaum

update: the WalMart version -- edited not due to the evil known as censorship, but owing to the power of holiday songs playing endlessly... "You better not pout, you better not cry, you better not use bad words when telling Christamas stories, 'cause Santa Claus is coming..." ...you know the rest. Heed the warning.


Oh no, no studying tonight... yes, the Algebra Final is Monday, but that's what the case of Red Bull and 10 hours of Sunday night are for....

Tonight, was The Night. Anticipation ran high, we had talked and planned and double-checked our schedules. We made arrangements, synchronized our watches. We didn't know why, but we did. We worked out the specifics, after 10 years you don't just leap into it like crazed weasels anymore, we both made a few concessions, a few adjustments. We both know by now not to hold the past up as a model, to let our expectations get too high, to make any attempt at recapturing past glory. People change. You learn to settle. The last thing anyone wants to hear in this situation is "Well, it was the thought that counts."

"It's not your fault."

"It's ok, it happens to a lot of people. Come sit over here on the couch."

"We can always try again next year."

"You know, on Oprah today..." *

Yes, tonight was the night: Johnny Mathis, hot buttered rum, the candles all glowing... it's time to decorate the tree. Of course the classic tunes were quickly replaced by It's a Muppet Christmas and none of the lights worked, unless you count the plink! when they were stepped on, and it took all of 3 minutes for the tree to ever so slightly begin leaning... but it had to be done.

The tree choosing was probably our smoothest ever. These situations are rife with danger, a veritible minefield on the snowy (not literally, it was 72 and sunny, as always) path to holiday joy. The ghosts of christmas tree farms past: ... Three children running amuck in the muck, lost among the pines and firs, either falling on love with the largest most expensive tree -- look Dad, it's only 9 dollars and 495 cents! -- or the sad-sack dry bough found in the mud -- I'll decorate it Dad, I'll take care of it, pu-leeeeze! ... The Wife soliciting my opinion on which tree best matches the living room, or should she choose a shade of green to best match the ornaments? For which we now know the best response in a tree farm full of chidren and people in Santa hats is not along the lines of "they're all Tannenbaum green, they're all Tannenbaum trees, none of them will Tannenbaum fit and I have to Tannenbaum rearrange the Tannenbaum furniture six times anyway, so just Tannenbaum pick one!" We don't go back to that place anymore. ... #2 showing #3 the cute and cuddley farm animals at the petting zoo, and #3 being young and still adorable saying in his most adorable voice how cute the animals are, even the cute turkey, awww... until #1 chimes in, with his not adorable I have the faintest whisps of a future mustache and I'm almost a teenager voice, "They kill them all for dinner."

Nope, in comparison, this year was cake. Makes me wonder when the tree will fall over, tonight at 2am, or tomorrow when no one will be home to rescue the cat pinned underneath?







*ok, I know that last one doesn't really apply, but I hate to hear it anyway. Actually, she prob. did have a Christamas Tree show and everyone in the audience got their own 10 ft. Fir and an elf to string the lights.