September 2008 - Posts

• I Oughta Notta Boughta Pinata

  Ah, the Piñata.  That staple of children’s birthday parties, Mexican fiestas and endless America’s Funniest Home Videos segments. How many times have you watched AFV and seen some Dad in a tank top holding a can of Miller Light win $10,000 because he got whacked in the family jewels while his son was swinging for a piñata?  How about every single episode? So, with all of this knowledge you would have to wonder why, I, a reasonably smart individual who never wears tank tops and really can’t stand miller light, would be so foolish as to buy a piñata for his child’s birthday?  Well, mainly because I thought the lack of a tank top would inherently save me from embarrassment, but more so because, despite the potential for life altering damage, piñatas are a lot of fun. I think it’s so cool to walk through the party store and see all of the different piñatas.  Look!  A dump truck piñata!  A Blues Clues piñata!  An Elmo piñata!  Of course, the reality is that there is something deeply disturbing about asking your kids to take a stick and beat the ever loving candy out of Dora the Explorer (not that I haven’t had that fantasy before).  What exactly are you saying when your child loves a character so much that they want to have a whole party about them and then you ask your child to take a decorative stick and hit that character repeatedly until they rip a hole large enough to eviscerate them of their internal goodies I believe that, sensing this dilemma, a lot of the piñata makers have moved toward these “pull string piñatas.”   These are designed for younger kids.  Instead of beating Curious George, each kid takes turns reaching up and pulling a string that dangles below him.  Most of the strings break off, but one of them rips open a hole allowing the candy to fall out. This is a nice idea, except there’s a couple of problems.  The first is that you don’t get to hit anything with a stick, which I believe is the whole point.  The second problem is the placement of these strings.  If you notice, on old Curious George here, the strings all emanate from his tuckus.    This means that the kids all take turns ripping off strings until someone rips a hole in Curious George’s bottom and a hundred or so raisinettes spill out.  I must say, I am not appetized.  On the other hand, it does allow me to say:  Guess what? Monkey butt. (Small conversational detour – My mom usually brings the kids Happy Meal toys that she has collected for them.  Well, she brought my three-year-old, Asher, a Batman toy.  Being three, he was unaware who Batman was and apparently misheard Grammy, because he has insisted on calling him Buttman.  “Look Daddy!  Look what Buttman can do!”  It does not help that this particular toy is a car that launches a small black escape pod out of the rear. Nuh na nuh na nuh na nuh na BUTTMAN!) Anyway.  The other disconcerting thing about these character piñatas is how you hang them in the air.  You can not tell me that this Elmo here doesn’t look like Sherriff Big Bird and Deputy Grover haven’t just put an end to his horse thieving days. But despite all of this, but I have always thought that piñatas are a blast.  The idea of taking something and beating it with a stick until it explodes into a confetti shower of candy is undeniably awesome.  I can’t tell you how many people I wish I could do that to (kidding!) That being said, I have never actually seen a piñata work properly. I have been witness to probably a dozen different piñatas and never once have I seen a kid hit it with a bat and watch it explode into a confetti shower of candy.  Usually a child whacks it until a small hole opens up, a single tootsie roll falls to the ground and 20 six-year-olds pile on, football style, crushing little Tommy on the bottom, forcing the parents to then take the piñata, rip it open by hand and shake the contents out, driving the kids to scramble for the candy and allowing the paramedics to attend to little Tommy. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen that happen.  The other thing that seems to happen is that somewhere around the 4th kid, someone gives the piñata a good whack and the little hook holding the piñata to the rope rips out and the piñata is sent flying to the ground, still completely intact.  I think this has happened every single time we have had a piñata, and yet, I am still stupid enough to keep buying them. For Audra’s birthday I had gotten a treasure chest piñata that was the culmination of the treasure hunt.  It was hidden up high in a tree and once the kids discovered it, I lowered it about 20 feet so it was in strikable distance.  Everything worked initially.  We blindfolded the kids and Audra got in a couple of real good hits, that did nothing whatsoever to the piñata.   A couple of other kids beat it mercilessly and ineffectively, and then we had our own AFV moment.  It’s not a $10,000 moment, but it might make one of the montages. One of the older girls went out with a vengeance.  She swung the bat fiercely mainly creating a nice breeze until she finally connected with the piñata.  It was a good hit.  The piñata swung far out about 8 feet away from her and then, like a boomerang, swung back and conked her in the head. Kids 0 Pinata 1 The next kid however managed to give it that one inevitable whack that did rip it from its hook causing it to fall to the ground, bounce harmlessly and roll a few feet, dislodging a single sweet tart.  Afraid that this might be the complete contents of the piñata, all the kids pounced like a pack of wild hyenas.  After some considerable effort, we finally beat them back.  (luckily, we had a stick handy). I then had a choice.  I could hold the piñata in the air while kids swung at it, but not being a complete moron, I opted not to.  I just had the kids line up and let them all take turns beating it on the ground.  I felt like the poor treasure chest was trying to leave a street gang. Eventually a large enough hole emerged and I lifted the piñata high in the air and shook it wildly, allowing all of the candy and goodies to cascade out, just as was never intended.  The kids scrambled over the candy stuffing their bags full, knowing this would have to last them until Halloween. Was it a success?  Welll, yes and no.  Did the kids like it?  Yes. Could I have achieved the same thing by putting a cardboard box full of candy on the ground?  Yes. But there is something inherently fun about the piñata, and I dare say that I will probably get a piñata for future parties. Why?  Well, because I keep hoping that one day it will work as beautifully as it always works in my mind.  And because I could really use that $10,000. Posted Sep 30 2008, 05:30 AM by superdad with 1 comment(s) Filed under: Audra, Asher, Better off Dad, birthday, pinata [Edit Tags]

• Eat Some Baby Back Ribs - Save a Life

  Hey  all, Just a quick note.  Today is the day (monday the 29th) that Chili's donates all of their profits to St. Jude's Childrens' Hospital.  Even the waiters donate their time. http://www.createapepper.com/ If you don't know, St. Judes is a research hospital in Memphis that specializes in helping kids with cancer.  They never turn anyone away for inability to pay.  It is one of the better causes out there.  So, if you're feeling super generous, make a donation to them. www.stjude.org Or just go order some sizzling fajitas.   Regardless, you can feel good about eating an 800 calorie hamburger (it's for the kids!) Posted Sep 29 2008, 05:13 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: charity [Edit Tags]

• A Girl Pirate Party – More Jewelry less Pillaging

  We finally got around to having my daughter’s 6th birthday party yesterday.  Her actual  birthday was last week, but life intervened, as it often does, (stupid life) and yesterday was the first day we could fit an afternoon of frivolity into everyone’s schedules. The main problem we faced in this whole party process was that we are  apparently in the middle of Maryland’s rainy season.  It was supposed to rain all weekend, and unfortunately, I had planned a fabulous outdoor pool party with games and activities that I really didn’t want to see occur in my living room (mainly because the diving board doesn’t fit). Audra, for reasons that aren’t entirely clear, wanted to have a “girl pirate party,” which is essentially a skull and crossbones on a pink background.  Although this struck me as a bit odd, it was a fun party to plan.  We put invitations in bottles, planned games using fake hook hands and used the words “scurvy” and “avast” a lot. I found a bunch of cute party games and pirate themed activities and even figured out how to turn hot dogs into pirate ships (hint: it involves sticking a sail in the hot dog and telling everyone it’s a pirate ship.)  I also put together a fairly well crafted treasure hunt for the kids, but I spent most of my time checking weather.com.  A lot of the activities would have been fine inside, but the treasure hunt would have suffered some (mainly involving having kids destroy room after room as they search for clues in seat cushions) plus indoor swimming is really lame. I also was being fairly safety vigilant since last year we sent a child to the emergency room with an unfortunate “glitter in the eye” incident.  My goal this year was not to have to use any of the pirate eyepatches for medical purposes. But, all in all things went spectacularly.  The kids had a good time.  The Breadstick sword battle was a big hit, the treasure hunt was a roaring success and except for a mini downpour which managed to destroy a craft we had made and permanently embed some decorative confetti into our tablecloths, the weather even cooperated.  The kids had a blast in the pool and the father’s who spent about half an hour each throwing kids into the water didn’t do too much damage to either the children or their backs.  All in all, it was a good day, proving that as a father I do learn sometimes.  Her first party with friends was a huge affair with 20 something kids including several neighborhood kids who just walked up, and enough activities to choke a horse.  The next year we scaled it back some, but still managed a cast of thousands.  Then finally we got smart, realizing you could do more with less (kids that is) and she invited just a handful of friends.  Of course, that was the year we almost blinded a 5 year old.  And there’s nothing more depressing than watching a 5 year old try to play flag football with one of those little fold up white canes. So finally this year, I feel like we hit the perfect combination:  Not too many kids, some quick, fun games, but not too many of them, some free time built in for the kids to just run around, a ban on glitter, and a schedule that get’s everyone out of the house, kids to bed, and the kitchen cleaned up before Desperate Housewives comes on.  Of course, the real test is how did the birthday girl like it, and by all accounts she had a great time and so did her friends.  It’s not Chuck E Cheese around here but the kids had a good time and the only eyepatch usage was while someone was saying Aaarggh, not AAAAHHHH IT BURNS, IT BURNS! What more could you ask for? Posted Sep 29 2008, 05:09 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: Audra, Better off Dad, birthday [Edit Tags]

• Skymall – Stuff You Don’t Need at Prices You Can’t Afford!

  Ah Skymall, that vixen of a magazine that sits in front of you in the pocket of your airline seat.  A magazine designed to make Sharper Image seem like a catalog of useful everyday necessities. A waterproof speaker that floats in a pool and plays music from my Ipod?  How can I live without that? A $100 bullwhip that’s an exact replica of the one in the Indiana Jones movies?  Seems reasonable. The stuff is overpriced junk designed to make your life marginally easier.  It’s stuff that no intelligent person would ever buy, but somehow, at 30,000 feet, with the air pressure a little low, it seems like a good idea.  And heck, you just spent $25 to check a bag.  So $100 for a decorative kitty litter box seems pretty darn reasonable.  But there is so much more.  Check out these 6 handy items that truly no household could be without. 1.  Is there anything more annoying than taking your dog for a walk to use the restroom?  It turns out, the answer is yes!  Introducing the “Indoor dog restroom.” This brilliant $150 device is a sheet of Astroturf that apparently smells like dog poo.  How convenient!  You can train your dog to crap on the Astroturf, leaving a simple 12 step process to dispose of the feces and clean the turf.  And if your dog urinates on this device (as  you’re clearly hoping they will) simply pick up this 2’x3’ mat, drain it into your sink, and then clean it with a hose, let it dry and your all set to let Fido soil the living room all over again.  What could be easier? 2.  Another must have item for your pet is a “Pet Observation Porthole.” What dog wouldn’t like to look through a fence at the world beyond, watching a life pass by that he will never be a part of.  This way he never misses an opportunity to bark at the neighbors.  Just cut a perfectly round hole in your fence at precisely the accurate diameter with your handy fence cutting jigsaw power tool (not included) then insert porthole.  It’s recommended that you get several so your dog has an unobstructed view.  Or, you could just take the dog for walks I guess. 3.  But not every gift should be for your pet, sometimes you need to pamper yourself.  Remember that handy dandy coffeemaker you bought that uses those little coffee pods?  Remember, how the sole reason you bought that was because it made making a cup of coffee so easy?  Well, don’t worry, skymall has a solution for that solution -  the “Gourmet Pod Maker.” This handy device allows you to painstakingly make your own coffee pods instead of buying the premade ones. For only $70 you can use the pod maker to tediously create your own tiny coffee pods by pouring tiny bits of coffee into the pod, delicately putting the tee-iny lid on and then sealing it.  This combines the time consuming annoyance of making coffee with the substandard flavor that comes from a pod coffee maker.  Just think!  If you have a party, all it takes is half an hour or so to hand create individual coffee pods for everyone.  Brilliant! 4.  Are you an idiot?  Do you find moving more than one finger to be excruciatingly complicated?  Well don’t worry because the “EZ Chord Kit” is here to help you. Also known as the Guitard, this device allows you to play chords just by pressing a single button.  With the 4 chords this device creates, you can play simply dozens of songs, including Twinkle, twinkle little star, the abc song, and The Devil went Down to Georgia.  Amaze your friends with your inability to master simple chords and your brilliance in selecting the guitard to help you.  You’re sure to be the life of the party (after you leave and everyone can talk about you.) 5.  Do you hate goodness?  Does the sweet warm chewiness of a brownie offend you?  Well fear not!  With the “Edge Baking Pan,” all of your brownies can be hard and slightly burnt.  The edge pan eliminates the gooey good brownies in the middle of the pan and makes every brownie a hard, overdone edge brownie.  Perfect for kids who fight over the good part, or for disappointing friends at dinner parties, the edge pan can make everything slightly less fun. 6.  And finally, what home would be complete without some expensive, tacky, chintz?  It is often said that a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.  But what about a rose dipped in 14 carat gold and lacquer?  Now, that’s classy! These roses only look like your kid bought them at his school’s Santa store.  In fact,  despite looking like something your aunt Edna purchased at the thrift store, these one of a kind golden goodies are a bargain at only $800 a dozen.  What better way to show your spouse you love them than by blowing almost a grand on some metal plants?  Sure it seems like a lot, but go for it!  Your somewhere high in the air over Wichita right now, you’ve had a couple of exorbitantly priced mini bottles of wine and your feeling good.  So go on, it’s Skymall! Posted Sep 26 2008, 04:31 AM by superdad with 1 comment(s) Filed under: travel, Better off Dad, stupidity, skymall [Edit Tags]

• So What Do You Want to Do Today? ..... I Don't Know, Go Look at Monkeys?

  Yesterday I asked my 3 year old son what he thought we should do today.  We had just put his sister on the bus and had a few hours of  freedom.   He thought about it for a couple of seconds and said: “I don’t know, maybe we can go look at some monkeys or something.  I like monkeys.  They’re great!” This cracked me up.  I’ve told this story to several people who sort of chuckled in an appeasing sort of way.  I, however, thought it was adorable.  Maybe you had to be there, maybe you had to give birth to this child, I don’t know, but it seemed like such a sweet, innocent appeal  (I know, how about monkeys?) that I hardly felt like I could say no. So I didn’t. We called up Asher’s best friend, Thad, rearranged our schedule and turkey sandwich in hand headed off to the zoo. We went to the National Zoo, which I really like, partly because it’s free (which I think is very cool) and partly because it is landscaped into the surrounding trees very well, so that walking through it is quite pleasant.  The only downside to the National Zoo is that there aren’t always animals.  I know this sounds silly, for a zoo, but it’s true. I remember on our school’s 8th grade trip to Washington, DC, we went to the zoo and my main memory is walking by one empty pen after another wondering where the heck the animals were.  Sure they had a couple, but (and I’m trying so hard not to exaggerate) I swear half the exhibits were empty.  I remember thinking to myself (for pete’s sake!  At least buy a couple of cows or something and throw them in there.  It’ll look better than a big empty pen.) (Note:  They now have cows) I also remember that Bobby Johnson got completely lost at the zoo and the rest of us all sat on the bus for an hour while adults were sent to fetch him.  But that’s another story. I will say that the zoo has gotten better, but there are still lots of empty cages.  I swear we walked a quarter of a mile from the pandas down to the lions and the only thing we saw were a couple of fancy horses they had brought in from Australia or something.  I’m sorry, but unless your horse has black and white stripes, it’s pretty hard to care. Luckily, three-year-old boys are as interested in sparrows, squirrels and popcorn as they are in  lions, tigers and bears.  We saw the hippo, and an elephant and then took a bathroom break and went to redeem our kids club membership for free popcorn (membership has its privileges you know).  Thad got very excited about the popcorn, because, as he said: “We never get to have popcorn at home. We only get real food.” Ah, the curse of a mother that still cooks.  No fish sticks and kraft macaroni dinners for you, bud.  Our house is pretty much the same, except I let the kids have popcorn.  It’s not Russia. So, snacks in hand we traipsed down the largely animal-less main stretch of the zoo (gorillas?  Inside.  Gibbons?  MIA.  Giraffes?  No idea).  We did break the “no food or beverage or stroller rule” (pretty much all the rules, I guess) so we could go inside the ape house and see the gorillas and the orangutans.  I kind of thought that on a sunny 75 degree day the animals might want to be outside, but I guess they preferred their dark, fetid concrete lair instead. The boys loved watching the apes, especially the orangutans (my personal favorite –Bornean.  Sumatran orangutans blow).  Then we headed over to the big cats.  Asher made it clear that he wanted to see the lions, but not the tigers.  The lions were “great,” but the tigers were “scary.”  This made no sense to me, but I also miss the allure of Thomas the Tank engine (boring, slowly told tales about vehicles who’s only facial expression is to move their eyes side to side) so what do I know. But, truth be told, all of that was irrelevant, because the boys really just wanted to spend time together; and they had a blast.  There may be no sweeter three-year-old boys in the world.  They held hands the whole time walking around the zoo and talked incessantly about whatever popped into their minds. “Thaddeus do you like ice cream?” “Yeah,  I love ice cream.  Do you like Monkeys? “Yeah!  Listen, I can whistle” (emits high pitched screech designed to subdue dogs) “I can whistle too.”  (more screeching) “Look a water fountain!”  Then they spent about 10 minutes playing in the water fountain, until they mastered a process where one would push the button while the other one put their finger over the spigot, effectively spraying water everywhere and causing them to devolve into giggles.  We could have spent the rest of the day right there.  But I forced them onward.  They roared at the lions, chased the squirrels, climbed on the statuary, jumped all over the pavement and generally spent 2 hours cracking each other up. It was one of those days where you think, “this is the kind of childhood I want my kid to have.”  One full of joy and silliness, with no objectives or time tables.  We have nothing to do but wander around, laugh and be happy.  And if we see an animal or two? Hey, that’s just gravy. Posted Sep 25 2008, 04:48 AM by superdad with 1 comment(s) Filed under: travel, Asher, Better off Dad, field trip, DC, zoo [Edit Tags]

• Holy @$%!# It’s National Punctuation Day!

  I am pleased to announce that my blog has reached the point of reader saturation where I am now receiving tips and suggestions from readers.  That’s right; I’m just like Dave Barry. My sister in law who is a middle school English teacher emailed me the news that today (yes, today!) is National Punctuation Day.  Now I’m sure most of you already have this marked on your calendar.  I imagine many of you probably even have the day off from work, at least those of you who are in the editors union. The rest of us just have to share in the joys of National Punctuation Day on our own.  Luckily though, the creators of National Punctuation Day have put together an exciting web page to help you celebrate.  I highly recommend that you take a few moments to check it out. http://www.nationalpunctuationday.com/ However, if you’re busy, or still haven’t figured out how to make those pesky link things work yet, then allow me to share with you a few of the highlights.  The first thing available is a recommendation on how you should spend punctuation day.  It begins with reading your paper and circling all of the mistakes, then strolling around your neighborhood looking for signs with mistakes on them and then you should: “Stop in those stores to correct the owners.” That’s right, please spend your day being an insufferable know-it-all and rubbing it in other people’s faces.  Then count how many times someone uses non-written communication to let you know what they think of your suggestions. To help you out, the website includes a bunch of signs with incorrect punctuation.  They fall into three categories; 1.  The misuse of an apostrophe. Now 4 dollar’s off! 2.  Writing “It’s” when you mean “its” Can you see it’s tail? 3.  Using quotes when what you mean are italics Pet Supplies “Plus” Now, I understand this.  I’ve got a couple of pet peeves when it comes to signs and my  wife is also a bit of a grammar nerd who regularly likes to scoff at poorly written signs, mistakes in the paper, and my overaggressive use of the comma.   But, “wait a minute,” your saying, “I don’t know if I know enough to go around ridiculing small business owners.” Well don’t you worry, because your friends at National Punctuation Day can come out and teach you everything you need to know.  They offer a punctuation playtime day that includes a “punctuation relay” and a “punctuation rap.” Now, I have to tell you that one of the great disappointments of my life is that I couldn’t get the sounds file for the punctuation rap to play.  (there is also a blues version!)  But I can provide for you the lyrics and the solemn prayer that your computer will work better than mine.  So here it is, the lyrics to the punctuation rap: Punctuation Rap PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION I am a QUESTION MARK, what do I do? I’m at the end of questions, like Where? What? or Who? PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION I am a PERIOD, that means full stop, At the end of a sentence, just make a dot. PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION I am a COMMA, if you see me just pause, So hang back, Jack, and think of what was. PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION QUOTATION MARKS hold the talking within, So if somebody speaks, just look for the twins. PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION I am a COLON, I am two dots, I’m the introducer, I express your thoughts. PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION An EXCLAMATION POINT is so like “wow,” If you’re writin’ so excitin’ then put me in now! PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION The APOSTROPHE . . . it shows possession, Team up with an “s” . . . that’s my obsession. PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION I can only dream about what it sounds like in real life. By now, I assume you have most of your punctuation activities planned for the day, but your probably still thinking “wait a minute, what am I going to do about dinner?” Not to worry!  The website provides you with a recipe for a punctuation meatloaf.  The thing I love about it is that it gives a basic meatloaf recipe and then says “now scoop the meatloaf into punctuation shaped tins.”  Because, yes, I have lots of those lying around.  Should I use my question mark pan, or my quotation pan?  I think I’ll use my colon pan, since that’s where it’s going to end up anyway. And finally, if you’ve had such a great day that you want to be able to relive it all year, then order one of the punctuation day t-shirts, such as: These t-shirts are great for teachers and …… no, I guess that’s about it. So, please, go out and have a great national punctuation day.  Harass some gas station employees, go to your school and embarrass your kids by singing the punctuation rap and then come home and enjoy your apostrophe meatloaf. Feel free to finish off your day by searching for punctuation errors in this blog (what fun!) I’m sure there are some.  My blog has it’s share of “errors” you no. PUNK, PUNK, PUNCTUATION! Posted Sep 24 2008, 04:49 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: Better off Dad, punctuation [Edit Tags]

• Southern Wedding Part 2 - Barbeque, a Grits bar, and a Dutch Baby

  After departing from Vulcan and his iron tuckus, we headed downtown. Downtown Birmingham has not faired well.  There are still some high rises that are busy and a couple of cute areas, but by in large, the downtown is made up of one abandoned store after another.  Very sad.  We stopped at the Birmingham Civil Rights Museum.  And here we need to stop and give credit.  As much as any city in the South, Birmingham has suffered from its civil rights legacy.  Water hoses, dogs, the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing – these images are all seared in our mental consciousness.  But Birmingham has done something that most of its fellow Southern cities have not.  It has decided to acknowledge this part of its history. They have a very well done civil rights museum and an extraordinary park that displays statues that starkly illustrate the brutality suffered by the protesters.  Most of the other Southern cities I have been to either like to ignore their history, or leave the acknowledgement of it to private groups, like the King Center, or the Southern Poverty Law Center.  Birmingham is the only city I’ve visited that seems to realize that public acknowledgement is the only way to move forward.  Good for them. While we were at the Civil Right’s Museum, we ran into a bunch of our college friends who were also down for the wedding.  Apparently a civil rights museum is sort of a gathering place for Northeastern liberals.  There was a large contingent from New York City that were having some difficulty adjusting to life in Birmingham (what with the lack of wine bars and tapas), but since most of them were trying to embrace the culture, we all decided to go get barbeque.  That is until the three or four vegetarians realized that barbeque restaurants in the South don’t tend to carry vegetarian options.  Funny that. We headed to Dreamland, which is a Birmingham institution where they grill full racks of ribs on open flames in the middle of the restaurant.  As soon as we stepped out of the car, I knew it was going to be good.  You could smell the goodness.   We got a table in the back and everyone with any sense ordered sweet tea.  The waitress also put out a plate of white bread, which is a Dreamland tradition.  All of the Yankees seemed amazed by the white bread as if they’d never seen bread without nuts and barley in it.  “Look at this,” said one, tearing the bread in half, “Look how even that tears.  That’s amazing!”  (I swear I’m not making that up) Where did these people come from?  I’m sure they have white bread in New Jersey, right?  Right? Our waitress was the friendly honest type you expect in the South.  She told us that the macaroni and chesse was great, but the potato salad wasn’t as good as her mama’s.  (she was right).  Most people ordered ribs, but coming from a family that barbeques competitively, I’ve come to prefer the pulled pork sandwich.  The sandwich came less as pulled pork and more as giant chunks.  As one guy put it, it was more like a tugged pork sandwich, but the sauce was pretty good (although a bit too vinegary for my taste) and the banana pudding, which I felt obligated to sample,  was outstanding. But here’s the problem.  While I was there, I had a large barbeque sandwich, three pieces of white bread, potato salad, banana pudding and 5 glasses of sweet tea.   (Now why is everyone so fat?)  I enjoyed it all, but for some reason I didn’t really feel so good afterward.  I felt like if I could go back to the hotel and throw up just a little bit, that I would feel a lot better. The hotel was nice.  It was very hip and trendy and in the middle of Birmingham’s one hip and trendy neighborhood.  Sarah and I rolled our bloated bodies onto the bed and just slept and digested for awhile, willing the barbeque to pass quickly through us.  Then it was time to get up for the wedding. The wedding was lovely and our friends both looked great, as you might expect on someone’s wedding day.  The wedding itself was very traditional, but the same could not be said for the reception.  The reception was held in this old warehouse that had been renovated for just such occasions and was very cool.  The happy couple had clearly put their stamp on the festivities.  Instead of a guest book, there was an antique typewriter for you to type a message on.  I believe mine began “It was a dark and stormy night.” And this wedding had the most creative fun food I’ve ever seen.   They did an excellent job taking old southern favorites and making them hip.  There were fried green tomatoes and black eyed pea salsa.  There was champagne, brie and artichoke dip.  There were bits of fried macaroni and cheese on forks sticking out of flower boxes.  There was a “decorate your own cookie” bar with hanging tubes of icing and the clear southern centerpiece was a grits bar.  You took a bowl of grits and then added cheese or nuts, or shrimp, or chicken or any other number of items to it.  I thought it was fantastic.  My wife wasn’t so sure, although this is partly because she was still trying to get over her disappointment that it wasn’t a mashed potato bar. All in all it was a fun evening with some modest dancing, some excessive eating and the Alabama football game was even on in the corner to keep everyones, husbands from leaving early.  It was definitely a wedding that knew their audience. The next morning we met all of our old college friends at the “original pancake house,” (which seems highly unlikely) across the street from the hotel.  After waiting for the entire Navy Soccer team to be seated (Beat Birmingham-Southern 1-0) we squeezed in and pored over an extensive menu which included any kind of pancake you could want, eggs, bacon, sausage and something called a dutch baby. I found it odd that the menu included a three paragraph history of the pancake, but provided no explanation whatsoever of what a dutch baby was, except that it was “oven baked and sprinkled with powdered sugar.”  Our waiter, who appeared to still be recovering from 30 years of overindulging in illicit drugs described the dutch baby as: “Sort of doughy, with eggs, and it rises and is sort of this big, and it’s eggy, with some cream in the middle and sort of an eggy taste.” I didn’t end up ordering it.  Although I saw one delivered to the next table.  It ended up looking a lot like a pancake that someone had hooked a bike pump up to and then overinflated. I ordered eggs and sausage which came with 4 pancakes (as a side item) with bourbon spiced Georgia Peaches and whipped cream on them.  They were heavenly and it was enough food to feed a small South American country.  I plowed through as much as I could, fully aware that my option back home was Ihop.  It was excellent, but for the fourth time in 24 hours I had eaten way too much of something that wasn’t even remotely good for me (well, I guess peaches are a fruit right?) I have no doubt I gained 10 pounds while I was in Alabama.  And as we drove back to the airport and walked to our plane, the people around me didn’t seem so fat anymore…. just, you know, healthy, and big boned, kind of like me.   Posted Sep 23 2008, 05:16 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: travel, Better off Dad [Edit Tags]

• Southern Wedding Part 1 - Birmingham Smells Like Bacon

  My wife’s college roommate was getting married in Birmingham this weekend, and since my mom was in town, we were able to go sans children – an extraordinary treat.  So we packed out carry on bags and headed down to enjoy the deep fried festivities.  As a son of the south, I was looking forward to being back in a place where the tea is sweet, the barbeque is spicy and the word “well” has two syllables. The first thing we noticed when we got off the plane was that the average individual weight of the people surrounding us had gone up about 20-30%.  I don’t say this to be cruel, but it is almost instantly noticeable.  You get off the plane and you think, hey that guy’s really fat…. oh, and that guy too….. and that woman….. and hey, holy crap, what’s going on?  It’s not that everybody’s fat, it’s just that the people who are overweight are enormous.  Alabama is the 2nd fattest state in our union after all.  (Thank you Mississippi!) The second thing we noticed was the smell of bacon.  It was somewhat overwhelming.  I’m still not sure what restaurant was producing it, but, without a doubt, the scent of bacon was permeating the air in a way that I had not come across in a long time.  The weight issue seemed suddenly less mysterious. We stopped by the visitors counter and picked up a bunch of brochures.  I’d been to Birmingham before, and had already hit some of the highlights like the civil rights museum, the art museum and the Alabama theater, so we were looking for a few new activities.  When we told people we were going to Birmingham but would only be there for about 26 hours, (got to get home to the kiddos) people seemed to be a little sad for us.  “oh, it’s a shame you’re going all that way for such a short time.” Yeah, I guess.  Sure, I’d love to go away for a week or something, but if you’ve got to go somewhere for only 26 hours, Birmingham’s probably not a bad choice.  If you went to Philly, or Seattle,  you would probably only get a taste of the city, but with 26 hours at your disposal, you can probably hit most of what Birmingham has to offer. It turned out, that one of the brochures was for was a little community festival about 20 minutes outside of town.  I love community festivals.  I love the music, and the weird crafts, and the people watching and, especially, the kettle corn.  So we got in our rental and headed out.  The festival turned out to be very small but very cute.  They had local teenagers standing in the gazebo singing country music to back up tracks.  They had the womens’ church social selling sodas and cookies.  They had activities for the kids and an appropriately bizarre collection of crafts.  They did not, however, have kettle corn and this alone lowers my score for the festival from a B to a C+. In the arts section they had the normal collection of competent potters, tacky jewelry and people selling hand crocheted toilet paper covers.  They also had several folk artists which is unusual.  They actually had what in my mind is the full range of folk art.  There was the one guy who was really good and sat there in overalls painting scenes of cotton fields, country churches and gospel choirs.  They had someone else who had some decent talent selling goofy scenes of angels and women shopping.  And then they had the one individual who went by the name “she-she” who clearly had no artistic talent whatsoever and had decided that if she called her work folk art, then maybe nobody would notice.  Unfortunately everyone seemed aware of their abilities and we couldn’t actually afford any of the art that was worth having. Our outing to the festival didn’t last long (largely driven by the syrupy country music and lack of kettle corn) so we headed back toward the big city, but on the way we decided to stop at Sonic.  We don’t have a Sonic anywhere near us at home, but we do have commercials for Sonic, which seems deeply unfair.  I’m always sitting at home watching a commercial thinking “yes, I would like to try a new coconut cream pie shake, but alas, I cannot.”  So I was very excited to be back in the land of Sonic.  Now the problem with  going to a place you love, but that you never get to go to is that you feel like you should take advantage of it.  So we ordered a Rt. 44 limeade, a peanut butter shake, an order of onion rings and some cheese sticks. It was all delicious, and I really really felt a little nauseous afterward.  So tanked up on calories, carbs, cholesterol and the sweet tang of limeade, we drove off in search of our next Brimingham adventure.  For those of you not familiar with Birmingham, one of its signature emblems is the giant stature of Vulcan, the God of metalsmithing.  Birmingham used to be a big factory town with lots of metal works.  In fact its population boomed so much in the early 1900s it was known as the “magic city.”  (It was a little less magic in the 60s).  So to celebrate all this, Birmingham constructed the largest cast iron statue ever created for the St. Louis World’s fair (do we even have world’s fairs any more?  I know I went to the one in Knoxville in 1982, but haven’t even heard of one since then.  Of course, I guess once you work your way down to cities like Knoxville, it isn’t long before you’re having “World’s Fair Akron” and “World’s Fair Darfur”) The Vulcan statue now sits atop this massive pedestal on the hill overlooking Birmingham.  It is a symbol of the city, but also largely a symbol of the city’s past since the city is now littered with the shells of abandoned factories scattered around town.  If you look closely, you can see Vulcan shedding a tear. If you look even closer, you can see that Vulcan isn’t wearing any pants.  Down in the city, looking up toward the mountain, Vulcan stands proud and powerful, but when you drive to visit him up close, you approach from the rear and I must say, driving up toward the world’s largest cast iron buttocks is quite an experience. He does have a nice smock on, which is fairly necessary since he spends his days banging on hot metal, sparks a flying, but on the backside he prefers a more ventilated feel.  I asked a couple of people about it and the best explanation I got was that he was mooning Montgomery.  Makes sense to me. Tomorrow:  Barbeque, a Grits bar, and a Dutch Baby Posted Sep 22 2008, 04:51 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: travel, Better off Dad [Edit Tags]

• Happy Birthday Audra

  For reasons that I cannot quite fathom, my darling daughter turns 6 years old today.  This seems inconceivable; because I’m pretty sure she just learned to walk last week.  This is made more confusing by the fact that she’s in the 3rd percentile for height and weight, so she still looks like she ought to be just learning to walk. But, no, she’s actually 6.  No longer a toddler.  Not even a little kid anymore (to hear her tell it).  She’s a big kid - going to school, buying her own lunch and learning math.  But still somewhere in there she’s my little girl.  My big 6 year old girl.  So here is my tribute to Audra and 10 things that I absolutely adore about her.   1.  She Loves School My goodness, if ever a child was born ready for school, it was Audra.  She loves everything about it.  She loves reading.  She loves lunch.  She loves riding the bus.  She’s frustrated that they haven’t done more math yet (that’s her mother’s genes in her).  She loves being with all the other kids and loves pleasing the teacher.   If you were to create Audra’s perfect play / entertainment / social arena that didn’t include a moon bounce, it would probably look a lot like school.  As a parent it is so wonderful to see your child happy and enjoying something that you know she’s going to have to do for the next 13 years.  I’m sure there will come days when Audra tells me she doesn’t want to go, but for now, even if she was coughing up blood I think she would just ask for some extra tissues, so she could go catch the bus.   2.  She is a Total Ham And I mean TOTAL.  She’s so much of a ham, they won’t even let her in a synagogue (cue rim shot).  My little girl loves to perform and she loves an audience.  She will gladly sing or dance or act in front of anyone.  When the opening credits to Kim Possible come on, she does this frenetic dance routine that would put Janet Jackson to shame (well, to more shame). She recently has fallen in love with the musical Annie and will run around the house singing “It’s a hard knocked up life!” at the top of her lungs while sliding down the stairs (Asher likes to sing “Tomorrow! Tomorrow!  Give your bottom a spanking! – what’s wrong with my kids?) Her singing isn’t always quite in key, but the enthusiasm is hard to beat.  She makes full use of her costume box and there is hardly a princess left standing that hasn’t had their life fully acted out in our living room.  I’m not saying she’s the next Tatum O’Neal (let’s hope not).  But she’s a born performer and it’s completely charming.  And don’t tell her, but there’s a little red dress and curly red wig wrapped up in her stack of presents. 3.  She Loves her Mom Yeah, yeah, she loves me too, but her heart is really with her mom.  I don’t know if most daughters are Daddy’s girls because Daddy is usually at work all day, but Audra seems to get plenty of me.  It’s her mom that she truly loves and Sarah has always been so great with her. Sarah is and has always been a tom boy who somehow gave birth to this princess loving, high heel adoring, bundle of glitter and perfume.  And they are perfect together.  Audra asks me 10 times a day “when is Mommy getting home” and will gladly body slam one of her siblings to get to mommy first when she gets home at night.  They have a whole series of traditions and rituals that they go through at bedtime that I’m sure I could never recreate.  One of my greatest fears in life is that something would happen to Sarah and that I would have to tell Audra.  I simply can’t imagine. It is awe inspiring to see love played out so actively and beautifully in front of you.   4.  She’s Smart as a Whip Yeah, I’m sure your kid is smart too, but boy Audra has a brain on her and she loves using it.  She’s always asking us existential questions about the nature of God or the really hard ones, like how they get all that fig inside the Newton.  She’s also good at figuring things out and boy, if elephants never forget, Audra comes in a close second.  She remembers people and events and random facts to the point that it is frequently a deficit.  I’ve gotten to the point where I no longer tell her what we’re going to do, because if there is the slightest diversion from that plan, she’ll let me hear about it.  Asher, on the other hand, has long since forgotten why we got in the car in the first place.  When she was three, we were in church reciting the Lord’s Prayer and I realized that Audra was reciting it with us.  I don’t think I learned that until I was in 4th grade.  Now I don’t know if she’s going to end up with a doctorate in Physics or 17th century literature (I hope not, the 17th century blows) but it is a joy to see that mighty mind of hers stretch and grow and blossom every day.   5.  She’s No Longer a Sassy 5 year old. Boy, there was a year or so there when I thought we were going to have to trade her in for an old Buick or something.  The last half of four and the first half of five were rough.  Our beautiful sweet girl somehow turned into this obnoxious, sassy, sit com character who put her hand on her hip and said sassy things except they weren’t funny (humor thus far is not her forte).  It’s a miracle that I didn’t grind my teeth to shreds or pass out from all the deep breaths I was taking. But that is all over, she has been a joy to be around and just a perfect daughter lately.  It’s a nice reminder that most of the craziness that our kids go through is little more than a stage that needs to be worked out.  Which is a good thing; because otherwise I think our adoption rolls would be more full than they already are.   6.  She’s my Brown Eyed Girl Right now, my daughter is beautiful.  It’s hard to say whether she’s still going to be conventionally beautiful when she grows up or have more, ahem, character, like her father.  A friend of mine recently told me that she and her husband were watching a tv show and one of the characters said something like, “you know, that girl’s totally hot…. in a nerdy way.”  My friend told me he thought that’s what Audra would probably look like.  I thought this was very funny, probably true, and a little creepy. But regardless of the future, Audra has these gorgeous big brown eyes framed with dark lashes that you can get lost in if you stare too long.  I have no idea who Van Morrison was talking about when he wrote that song, but I know that whenever it comes on in our house, everything has to stop so that I can dance with Audra.   (we try to ignore the “making love in the green grass” part)   7. She Stands up for Herself Early on, my little angel was truly the littlest angel.  She’s always been about a head shorter than her peers and as a preschooler, height was about the closest thing to a hierarchy as anyone had.  She was content and happy, but I frequently saw her offering up ideas that were generally ignored by everyone else.  She always got cast as the child when kids were playing house and never got to be her top choice of princess. Well, that has changed.  She has learned how to take up for herself (a skill I never developed until college and still don’t have in spades).  She can push back without being pushy and she knows to stand up for what is fair.  Now, what is fair to one 5 year old, isn’t fair to another, but, regardless,  I’m glad to see her get a little backbone.  She’s a wisp of a child and a pretty sweet kid at that.  It would have been easy for her to be the pushover, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.  Of course, you have to be careful that standing up for yourself doesn’t become pushing others down, but so far she’s walked that line well, and besides her arms are too scrawny to do much pushing anyway.   8.  She Loves Music I suppose it’s sort of wrong to love the things about your child that are most like yourself, but we all do it, so lay off.  Audra is a music lover just like me and I love that she seems to adore the full range of different styles out there.  She can sing along to show tunes, swing around the room to Ella Fitzgerald and still have time to get all funky to Chuck Brown.  The music is playing a lot in our house, sometimes for ambiance, sometimes to cover up the noise, but it’s on a lot.  And it doesn’t take long before Audra’s begging for a dance break.  I turn the volume up, search out the fast songs, and soon we’re hopping and bopping, twirling and spinning around the kitchen and singing at the tops of our lungs.  It’s a little slice of heaven. 9.  She’s a Great Big Sister Audra is smaller than most of her friends and partly because of that ends up being the follower a lot of the time.  Once she became a big sister, she was presented with the opportunity to be the big kid in charge.  I was a little concerned that perhaps she might be apt to abuse this power as some older siblings do, but that has never been the case.  Audra is a loving and perfect big sister.  When her little brothers were infants, all she wanted to do was hold them in her lap and stroke their heads and sing to them.  And now that they’re older, she and Asher are best buddies who are always running around the living room off on another adventure.  I am usually just a bit character in their grand cinema.  They will come up to me and ask, in a British accent, for a bus ticket to Kalamazoo, or will inform me that a monster is after them and that I should keep an eye out.  And then they are off, to climb a mountain, run a restaurant, or defeat a dragon. It has also been wonderful to see her interact with our 1 year old.  She is always happy to keep an eye on him and let me know if he is doing something crazy like climbing on top of the train table.  And she loves to help him get on his little plastic car and push him around the living room.  She is the kind of big sister that any little boy would be thrilled and blessed to have.   10.  She’s a Marrow Sucker Audra loves life and she loves to live it – Big.  Every morning one of the first things out of her mouth is “what are we going to do today?”  And she doesn’t mean which room are we going to clean up, or what time do you think we’ll go out and play in the back yard?  No, she means, what enormous, exciting, once in a lifetime event are we going to go out and accomplish before dinner?  A day without museums, playdates, interesting foods or trips to brand new places is a day wasted. Now, this can clearly become problematic.  If the day I had mentally planned involved going to Target, doing some laundry, and maybe going for a walk, this is not a sufficient day.  But it also means that she is always up for something new.  Thai food?  Why not? Renoir exhibit in Philly?  I’ve got my bags packed! Austrian folk dancing?  I’ve got my dirndl all pressed! She’s up for excitement and new experiences and sucking that last bit of marrow out.  She’s turning into a beautiful, wonderful little girl and she’s going to live an exciting, adventurous life.  And I, for one, can’t wait to see what this 6th year is going to bring.   Posted Sep 19 2008, 06:24 AM by superdad with 3 comment(s) Filed under: Audra, Better off Dad, birthday [Edit Tags]

• All the News That's Fit to Print - And a Whole Bunch That Isn't

  I’m a bit of a news junkie.  I’m not sure why.  I realize that my understanding the political situation in Kenya doesn’t actually help the world any more than shouting at the TV helps the Redskins, but it somehow makes me feel better. And I take my news seriously.  I like thorough balanced reporting (not “fair and balanced” mind you) that at least seeks to understand both sides of the problem.  And I like to hear intelligent stories on little known issues.  What I don’t like is when I see really really stupid, poorly thought out stories listed right next to important events as if they share the same level of significance. Right now we are in the midst of a significant and historic presidential campaign, our economy is tanking and China is about to buy Montana (honestly?  Fine with me.)  Now, I’m not saying that there isn’t room for stories about cute dogs in the midst of all of this, but at the very least there isn’t room for poorly written stories about cute dogs. Yesterday I was browsing the MSN front page and each of these headlines was listed. BAG ON SAGGY PANTS RULED UNCONSTITUTIONAL Well thank heavens!  I have three teenagers from Mississippi who regularly wear their pants around their knees (even the girl!) plus, I have a 1 year old who doesn’t have a waist.  So unless he’s in overalls, he’s showing the girls a little pamper (if you know what I mean).  And apparently if we lived in Riviera Beach, FL we’d all be in jail right now.  So thank you constitution.  Now, I don’t personally remember which amendment to the constitution specifically protects the display of boxer shorts, but I am so thankful that the founding fathers had that kind of foresight.  I kind of suspect it was Franklin who squeezed it in.  Doesn’t he look like the kind of guy who would be sagging his pants and throwing gang signs at Jefferson? VIDEO SHOWS WORKERS ABUSING PIGS Now, I know we live in an era where Paris Hilton and R Kelly are making these kinds of tapes that “somehow” leak out.  But you know, I don’t want to hear about this.  Pigs?  That’s just nasty.  And it’s especially terrible when you think that those workers were in a position of authority over those pigs.  That kind of abuse of power is simply horrendous.  I will say this though.  Don’t you just bet there was some lipstick involved? SAVING HORSES, BULLS AND SQUIRRELS AFTER IKE Ok, we all love animals, I get that (see pig story if you don’t believe me).   But is this really the headline we want to see?  Peoples’ lives are destroyed, there are folks in desperate need of food water and electricity and someone is out there saving squirrels – while I am actively trying to eliminate the ones in my backyard?  Let’s just save everyone some hassle.  Let the Texas squirrels go and I’ll just mail you some of mine. TOILET PAPER RESEARCHERS CREATE 3 PLY TISSUE Where to begin?  Let’s start with the words “toilet paper researcher.”  What God forsaken Idaho community college is offering that degree?  Secondly, I can never understand what the big deal is with this stuff.  Everyone gets all excited when someone makes a razor with 3 blades (and then, holy crap!  4 blades!!!!).  How hard is it to add another layer  of toilet paper?  Just stick it on there.  Give me 5 minutes and some elmers glue and I can make you some 4 ply toilet paper.  Heck.  You want 6 ply?  8 ply?  Give me 20 minutes and you can have some sweet, soft, 50 ply toilet paper if that will keep you happy.  BUSH HEADS TO TEXAS; RESIDENTS URGED TO LEAVE Ok, this headline was on CNN, not MSN, but I swear it was there.  SQUEAKY CLEAN: CUTE LITTLE MONKEY SHOWERS IN SINK This was one of the rotating three picture headlines last night at about 8.  We’ve got an election going on.  There’s remnants from people’s houses spread all over south Texas.  And your 401K is worth about $8.75.  But not to worry.  Some freak let’s their monkey roll around in the kitchen sink and all is right with the world. (Ok, it was pretty darn cute.  But it is NOT news) Maybe I’m just being an old crank (hmm, I feel suddenly compelled to vote for McCain) but the sheer preponderance of stupid news last night really bothered me.  On the upside, maybe it’s helped to amuse you. Honest to Pete!  I just checked MSN one last time.  6th headline from the top: PROSECUTOR: ACTOR KILLED CAT IN JEALOUS RAGE http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26771119 Posted Sep 18 2008, 05:04 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: news, Better off Dad, stupidity [Edit Tags]

• A Day in the Life - Part 2

  12:10 Arrive at church.  Hustle kids out of car and inside.  Rehearse music while constantly bouncing up and down on my toes to keep Micah happy in the baby bjorn.  Sing leaning backward at a 70 degree angle so Micah can hold a bottle upright while drinking.  Remind Asher not to eat things he finds on the floor since the church has a mouse problem and it’s just generally not a good idea. 1:00 Back in the car.  Micah begins screaming.  Drive through McDonalds to get large Diet Coke for me, small milkshake for Asher as a reward for being so good at church and chicken nuggets for Micah to stave off screaming.  Chicken nugget seems to work. 1:15 Micah has fallen asleep with chicken nugget hanging out of mouth.  Debate feelings of amusement and guilt.  Turn on Kojo Nnamdi, he’s discussing something incredibly boring that turns out to be fascinating the more I listen to it.  Wonder why I suddenly care about the ethics of DNA databases.  Assume it is because I am special, possibly special in a bad way, but definitely special. 1:30 Call home.  Tell Jessie to be ready when I get there, I’m taking him to the DMV to take driving test for the third time.  Wonder aloud, to myself, why no one in Mississippi seems to feel the need to carry a driver’s license. 1:40 Pull into driveway.  Leave car running so as not to wake Micah.  Run into the bathroom, grab an apple.  Holler to Jessie that we’re here.  Come back out.  Micah is awake and screaming.  Do my John Cleese impression where I absurdly shake my fist at the ceiling while grimacing.  Pull, Micah and Asher out of the car.  Change their diapers, let them play for 10 minutes while Jessie gets ready, then load everyone back in the car.  Asher gets a Capri-sun and I feed Micah a series of animal crackers one by one to keep the beast calm. 1:45 Micah no longer wants animal crackers.  Begins screaming again and throwing animal crackers, toys and books at my head in an utter rejection of his life and circumstance. 1:55 Arrive at DMV.  Relive flashbacks of all the pain, misery and trauma that this one institution has managed to deliver on my life.  Go inside to find the place surprisingly sparse.  Entertain kids with funny voices while Jessie takes written test.  Raise eyebrows of older women by letting Micah crawl around on the floor. Work hard to keep him from sucking on strangers’ shoe laces. 2:20 Jessie comes out.  He passed!  Yea!  Mentally do a little dance.  It most resembles Usher as if channeled by Screech.  Give repeated horsey rides to kids while we wait for Jessie’s number to be called.  2:35 Move our seat location to behind Jessie so that I can conduct my role in the driver’s permit process – that of supplying the debit card.  I conduct my role superbly and with aplomb. 2:50 Load everyone in car.  Time to head home for naps.  Screaming begins.  Decide to reward Jessie for passing test by not forcing him to listen to NPR.  Turn on the sweet sweet sounds of contemporary folk music.  Rock out to Dar Williams with a Joan Baez chaser.  Jessie feigns disinterest.  Switch to Billy Joel?  Who doesn’t like Billy Joel?  Apparently Jessie. 3:10 Arrive home, take screaming Micah into house.  He practically leaps out of my arms to get down.  Crawls right for the playroom where he begins putting Thomas trains in his mouth.  Take Asher up for nap.  Exact promise that there will be NO thumping around and that he will go right to sleep.  Go through our naptime routine where he first rejects every bedtime item (I don’t want my blanket!) and then I pretend to leave (I DO want my blanket).  I return all items to him in predetermined order and exit the room. 3:15 Hear thumping overhead 3:25 Pick up Micah to put to bed.  The screaming seems to indicate he’s not ready.  Mumble and curse his 20 minute nap in car since that will apparently preclude any other nap now.  Put him back down.  Go to check email.  Remember that I have meeting at church that I am actually supposed to be leading.  Spend half an hour writing out an agenda and sending reminder emails. 4:05 Walk down to the end of driveway to wait for Audra’s bus.  Realize belatedly that this would have been the perfect time to read the paper.   Sigh with defeat. 4:10 Bus arrives.  Audra hops off, smiling as always and begins 4 hour monologue about school, lunch, Hannah Montana, nursery rhymes, some game involving cups, recess, her friends, that boy who always gets in trouble, the concept of infinity, her shoes, snack time, gym, math, reading, her papers, the treasure box, who had to pull a card, Barack Obama, her old babysitter, potato chips, soccer and on and on and on. 4:20 Realize it’s way past time to go pick up Aloysius and Felecia at college.  Give Audra a juicebox and banana.  Give Micah a bottle and put him to bed.  Say silent prayer that the nap will take.  Tell Jessie he needs to come upstairs and keep an ear out for Micah and to give me a call if he wakes.  4:30 Grab a coke zero.  Head to college.  Turn on NPR.  All Things Considered is on.  Smile in approval that Robert Siegel is hosting.  Enjoy stories about sweet potato farmers, inane political commercials, the auto industry and the fate of the arctic Loon. 4:35 Receive call from Jessie that Micah woke up.  4:45 Pass dumptruck labeled “T&A Refuse Removal.”  Scribble note to include in future blog. 4:50 Text Aloysius that I am 3 minutes away and to be ready. 4:55 Arrive at campus.  No one’s there.  Wait. 5:00 Wait. 5:05 Wait 5:10 Aloysius and Felecia come out.  Load in car.  Decide to punish them with more NPR and prying questions about their day.  Ask about homework and if they’ve really been doing their reading.  Say silent prayer of patience when Felecia says she forgot to buy her psych book yet again.  Turn radio up, listen to stories about changing Cathloic schools, the bank of America, Olympic cyclists, something crazy Joe Biden said and a woman who collects nutcrackers of politicians. 5:20 Wonder why Felecia and Aloysius fell asleep 5:30 Arrive home.  All three kids are awake and sitting in the living room with Jessie watching CSI.  Turn TV off, pull Jessie aside for quiet talk, do quick online research on potential child psychologists. 5:40 Take 20 minutes to read to kids and play chase. 6:00 Scramble to throw casserole together.  . 6:30 Leave specific instructions on when to put casseroles in oven and how long to let it cook and at what temperature.  Kiss children goodbye.  Remind everyone not to let the kids watch TV shows with serial killers and camera shots of bullets entering people’s hearts.  Get in car and leave. 6:31 Put car in reverse.  Run back inside to get my agendas and a coke zero.  6:33 Leave again.  Turn on NPR.  I’ve already heard this story.  Let a small wave of depression envelop me that I’ve been in the car so long that I’ve already been through one cycle of All Things Considered.  Turn to commercial radio just for fun.  Flip channels repeatedly till I find a song I like.  Listen to two songs and then become so annoyed by crass, loud annoying radio commercials that I consider turning it off.  Attention is caught by ad telling me that I can get a new exciting job as a cable box technician.  Jot down number. 6:45 Realize I’m starving.   Look for peanut butter crackers.  Damn.  I’m out.  Eat half a cup of Micah’s strawberry Banana puffs.  Decide I’d rather be hungry.  Switch on the Ipod.  Put on shuffle.  Listen to (in order)  Queen, John Mellencamp, Pavarotti, Dar Williams, Outkast, Mozart, Tina Turner, Cat Stevens, Tina Turner (random shuffle my fanny) the Les Miz soundtrack and Journey. 7:03 Arrive at church.  Run inside, still singing “Don’t stop Believing.”  Run off copies and hustle to my meeting. 7:05 Start meeting.  Look with depression at the only two other people who showed up and wonder how the three of us are going to plan an event for 300 people, especially since one person is 76 and the other is the pastor. 7:22  Realize I’ll have to do it all. 7:54 Begin compiling list of excuses for why I can’t do this:  Hernia surgery, great aunt ill in Bolivia, John Hodgeman’s disease. 8:36 And finally acceptance. 8:42 Meeting ends.  Chat with pastor out in hallway.  Get suckered into two more activities (its for the kids) 9:04 Get in car.  Decide to treat myself to Chipotle.  LOVE chipotle.  9:20 Back in car.  Cover torso and lap with napkins. 9:23 Still get corn salsa on my shirt.  Turn on more Jasper Fforde.  How does he do it?  Ha ha ha… Lord Byron references are hysterical. 9:50 Arrive home.  Sarah is on couch watching Monk rerun.  How did we get to be so lame? 10:15 Monk is over.  Decide to watch last night’s Daily Show. 10:32 Fall asleep during interview of some writer I’ve never heard of. 11:00 Turn off lights, let dog out, stumble upstairs, brush teeth and set alarm for 6:30.  mentally plan blog about what kind of employees might work at the T&A Refuse Removal Company.  11:02 Fall Asleep Posted Sep 17 2008, 05:24 AM by superdad with 1 comment(s) Filed under: Better off Dad [Edit Tags]

• A Day in the Life - Part 1

  6:30 Alarm goes off.  Hit snooze. 6:40 Alarm goes off again.  Get up.  Stagger downstairs, start the coffee pot, start the computer, get a glass of orange juice. 6:45 Read the Bible and pray.  Try desperately to stay awake until coffee is done brewing.  Hope God isn’t too horribly frustrated with me. 6:55  Pour a cup of coffee, add hazelnut coffeemate, pretend I’m drinking fancy French coffee.  Sit down at computer and see if anything crazy has happened since I went to bed.  Check email, wonder how Macy’s can have a sale every single day?  Wonder why I don’t unsubscribe from their list. 7:10 Start writing blog.  Look through list of ideas I’ve jotted down, realize that I’ve already used all of those and will have to come up with something new.  Search news headlines again for inspiration.  Wonder if I could get a whole article out of that weird incident with the cub scout selling popcorn to send to the troops at Christmas.  7:15 Get distracted by an email about new tickets going on sale for the Tina Turner concert.  Take a few minutes to hum “simply the best.” 7:20 Audra comes downstairs.  Get annoyed that the blog isn’t written yet (or really started).  Decide to embellish boy scout story to make it seem funnier. 7:30 Asher and Sarah come downstairs.  Asher immediately asks for food and drink.  Audra wants oatmeal.  Tell the kids to wait just one cotton pickin’ minute so I can try to think of something funny to say about Ziploc bags. 7:35 Sarah leaves. Give her a quick kiss.  Get oatmeal, and cereal ready for the kids.  Spend several minutes fulfilling children’s demands for milk, juice, spoons and other breakfast requirements.  Go back to writing blog. 7:55 Micah gets up. Change his diaper, get him a morning bottle put him in a highchair, dump cereal on his tray, tell kids to pipe down while Daddy’s “working.” 8:00 Overhear Asher singing the lyrics to Wang Chung.  Wonder if that makes me a really good father, or a really bad one. 8:15 Realize I only have 5 minutes left, hastily finish blog, manufacture touching ending. 8:20 Shower, get dressed.  Enjoy 5 minutes of “me time” 8:25 Change everyone’s diapers, brush Audra’s hair, wonder where the heck Asher’s shoes could have gone to, load all the kids in the car, drive up to the top of the hill to the bus stop.  Chat with other parents.  Pretend I am always calm and collected.  Wonder where bus is. 8:40 Bus arrives.  Audra crosses to bus, gets on, never looks back.  Bus driver chats on cell phone for a while, infuriating line of cars backed up behind her. 8:45 Get Washington Post out of paper box.  Promise to read it today.  Get boys out of car and let them play in play room.  Throw paper on counter.  Finish blog, re-read it.  See if I can make it funnier.  Post it.  Drink more coffee. 9:00 Respond to emails from the day before.  Clean cast iron skillet from last night’s dinner.  Look on the web for ideas for Audra’s birthday party.  What exactly is a “girl pirate theme” anyway?  Pink eyepatches?   Drink coffee. 9:20 Chase Asher around the upstairs trick him into coming close enough to me that I can grab  him and pull clothes on him.  Consider brushing his hair then think better of it.  Pretend it’s an intentional “look.”  Grab Micah and begin wrestling him into a diaper while his tiny squirmy body repeatedly flips around on the changing table like a wet salmon.   Put him on floor and put one leg over him in effort to pin him long enough to pull a pair of pants on.  Wonder where his shoes are.  Wonder why no one uses the nice Ikea shoe holder I purchased and installed. 9:30 Holler down to the basement that it’s time to go.  Realize lights are still out.  Stomp downstairs and gesticulate like a madman that we need to go.  Watch Mississippi kids slowly rise from their beds like a scene from Dawn of the Dead.  Wonder if George Romero had teenagers. 9:45 Leave for Community College.  Micah begins his mid-morning car ride scream session.  Begin feeding him a succession of toys, books, and crackers in an effort to get screaming to stop. 9:55  Give up on ending screaming.  Turn up NPR to drown out noise.  Begin talking to radio.  Argue aloud with Diane Rehm’s guests about the role of preschool education.  Explain, unasked, to Aloysius why our public education system is based on the false premise that all students start off equally and throw in a side lecture on the concept of Tabula Rasa.  10:05 Wonder why I’m so hungry.   Then remember that I never ate breakfast.  Eat a pack of peanut butter crackers.  Wonder what a daily breakfast of 3 cups of coffee and a pack of peanut butter crackers is likely to do to my health.  Make note to ask Sarah about life insurance.  Engage Zen meditation to block out continued screaming. 10:10 Drop off Felecia and Aloysius at college.  Wonder why they always seem so eager to get out of the van. 10:15 Mumble about how all of these college kids appear to be absolutely terrible drivers.  Drive past two fender benders between parking lot and college gate. 10:20 Arrive at mall for Stay at Home Dad Playgroup.  Go down to play area to find the usual suspects.  Release children into the wilds of the play area. Spend time talking about manly things like diaper rash, kitchen remodeling and good sales on kids clothes.  Smile blandly when third person who passes us says "Oh, look, it's dad's day out." 11:00 Go to fancy mall bathroom, change children.  Ask Asher pointless question of whether he would like to use potty.  Wonder if they make diapers for 10 year olds. 11:10 Drive home.  Micah begins mid-afternoon screaming session.  Turn on NPR.  Diane Rehm is discussing book about cats.  BORING!  Put in book on tape by Jasper Fforde.  Laugh hysterically at jokes about Charlotte Bronte, cultural imperialism and oat bran.  Wonder why my wife thinks I’m weird. 11:30 Leave car running.  Run inside, make sandwiches.  Wonder how in the world we’re out of bread already.  Say quick prayer of thanks for the existence of coke zero. 11:45 Leave for Praise band rehearsal at church.  Know I’m going to be late and begin wondering if I have any actual excuses for this, or if it is simply my general irresponsibility.   Decide on general irresponsibility.  Check in on NPR.  John McCain is saying that Obama wants to teach sex ed to kindergarteners.  Seems unlikely.  Diane Rehm is still gushing about cats.  Repress urge to vomit and switch back to Jasper Fforde.  Ha ha ha, Thomas Hardy jokes crack me up.   Give Micah another bottle.  It staves off screaming for 40 seconds.  11:55 Realize we’re almost out of gas. Wonder how this could be since I just filled up a day or two ago.  Pull into Exxon station.  Sign over title of car to fill it up.  Eat turkey sandwich while pumping gas. 12:00 Get back in car and head to church.  Turn on ipod and sing along to Queen’s “Find me Somebody to Love” at full  volume.  Nail high notes.  Wonder why pedestrians are staring at me.  Decide it must be because I am so handsome. Tomorrow.  The exciting conclusion!  Hours: Noon to Midnight. Posted Sep 16 2008, 06:16 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: Better off Dad [Edit Tags]

• Support Our Troops - Or at Least Give this Cubscout a Buck

  Living near DC there are lots of people who have some kind of involvement with the military.  Everyone knows somebody who works at the Pentagon (I know at least three people) and it seems like everyone knows somebody who has been to Iraq / Afghanistan or is still over there.  One of my best friend’s son is over there on his 2nd tour, and my Mississippi kids all know a bunch of soldiers. All this is to say, that I am sensitive to the desire to, as the phrase goes, “support our troops.”  I’m happy to give money or bring things to church for a care package and when there’s someone out in front of the grocery store shaking a pickle jar of change, I usually try to drop a dollar or two in.  It’s not much, but it’s something. This past Saturday, however, I was walking into the Safeway and there was this 5 year old kid decked out in his full cub scout regalia standing there holding a giant empty mayonnaise jar.  His mother (I assume) was standing beside him, stopping people and saying, “Hi, we’re collecting money to send popcorn to our troops for Christmas.” I smiled, put a buck in the jar and then went in to the store.  Then I started thinking.  “Popcorn to our troops for Christmas?”  That’s the most random thing I’ve ever heard of.  Popcorn?  Christmas?  Am I missing something? How exactly did that cubscout meeting go? “We should do something for our troops!” “Here, Here!” “Let’s send them something.” “Yes!” (four year old Tiger scout pipes up) “I like popcorn.” “Done!” I certainly don’t mind sending popcorn to our troops for Christmas, I’m just not sure that’s what they’re really jonesing for.  So I did some research (and I hope by now you realize that the words “research” and “google search” are interchangeable).   I came across a company that sends care packages to soldiers overseas.  Some of it was pretty logical:  Chips and cookies.  Other packages were a bit weird.  One had 8 different kinds of junk food packages and a big box of Ziploc freezer bags.  This struck me as odd, but I’m willing to guess that, for people in the know, Ziploc bags are a big commodity.  Nobody likes freezer burn, even in a war zone. I also liked the “For her” pack which included chips, cookies, chocolate sauce and “Burt’s Bees Lemon Butter Cuticle Cream.”  Really?  A ¾ ounce container organic lemon butter cuticle cream?  Heck, I guess if your cuticles are in good shape you could probably eat it. The guy’s pack had the same food, but instead of cuticle cream, had what appeared to be mini shampoo and conditioner bottles stolen from a holiday inn.  And a carabineer.  That’s nice, but if our soldiers are short on shampoo and carabineers, we are all totally screwed. Well Damn!  While I was doing some more google searching on wacky things people are sending to the troops, I came across whole websites dedicated to this popcorn for the troops thing.  Apparently come cub scout troops earn money by selling popcorn each year and have recently decided that since no one ever really wants to pay $15 for a 12 ounce tin of popcorn, why not just send it to the troops.  Support the scouts, support the troops and get out of feeling duped when you realize you just spent $15 on an afternoon snack.   Brilliant! The one thing I did see over and over again in my research is that what most soldiers said they really wanted were letters.  Now maybe they were lying.  Maybe they really want popcorn, bud light and the Olsen twins, but they’re hard to fit in a care package (I don’t know, do people still like the Olsen twins?  I always thought they were a little weird).  But I suspect that there are lots of soldiers who really would like a letter, maybe even more than a decorative tin of Jalapeno Cheese Popcorn.  (not that there’s anything wrong with that). So, I think I’m going to follow the advice I received off of some random website I came across and write a letter to a soldier.  Heck, maybe you’ll do the same. Letters can be sent to: A Million Thanks 17853 Santiago Blvd. #107-355 Villa Park, CA 92861 www.amillionthanks.org P.S.  Apparently sending letters to troops is a complicated process.  You can’t just send a letter to “a solider, US Army, Iraq.”  Seems like that ought to work, but no.  Also, and this absolutely cracks me up, there are 4 guidelines for sending letters and one of them is “no glitter.”  I couldn’t agree more. Posted Sep 15 2008, 05:17 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: Better off Dad, charity, troops [Edit Tags]

• Sign, Sign, Everywhere Another Idiotic Sign

  So, my favorite story that I came across last week (Aside from the fact that Sarah Palin named her son Trig Van Palin, because it sounded like Van Halen ) is about a small insignificant restaurant in China. Apparently, the restaurant owner was getting excited about the upcoming Beijing Olympics and was trying to figure out how to cash in on that influx of Western money.  He decided that the best way was to translate the name of his store into English.  Very few foreigners speak Chinese and this would be a great way to draw in the Yanks.  So he goes to a free internet translation website, types in his store’s name and then dutifully orders up an expensive new sign: This got me thinking about some of my other favorite signs that I’ve seen in my various travels.  One of my favorites was when we were traveling through the tiny town of Savage, MS and came across the sign for the “Savage Baptist Church.”  I’m not sure why that cracks me up so much, but it does.  Ha!  Savage Baptist Church! Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of the church.  I’ve been wanting to travel back for years to get one, but somehow, Savage, MS hasn’t made it on to a return itinerary.  I do have a picture of my three other favorite Mississippi signs, though.  The first one is significant because it is the state welcome sign that used to be on the highway.  The tagline underneath says:  “Only Positive Mississippi Spoken Here.”   What does that even mean?  I can only assume that the rough Mississippi to English translation is: “Look, I know everyone makes fun of our state for being so backward and 50th in Education and stuff, but please don’t laugh at us while you’re in the state.  If you could just wait till you get to Arkansas, we’d really appreciate it.” My other favorite Mississippi sign needs no introduction.  It is, unfortunately, self explanatory: I spent about half an hour looking for a picture of my third favorite sign.  I finally found one, but not the one I was thinking of.  Somewhere I have another picture where they have hand painted the store’s name on the side of the building, but this is the only one I could find.   If you look carefully at the top sign, you’ll see the name of the store: Christ Temple Bait Shop That’s right.  It’s a house of worship on Sunday and a bait shop Monday through Saturday.  This is precisely the kind of synergy that Steve Jobs is always talking about. My final sign for you today is one outside of a hospital in Chattanooga.  Now, there are lots of people in the world who have the need for prosthetic limbs.  This is a sad but true fact.  And we should honor those people who choose the manufacture and sale of said limbs as a career.  However, in the same way you can not open a chicken franchise under your name if you happen to be named Sal Manila, there comes a point where you just have to give up the family pride and call your store Chattanooga Prosthetics.  Because otherwise, you get this:   Does anyone else have any other fun signs out there that they’ve seen?  If so, I’d love to hear some of your posts. Posted Sep 12 2008, 05:19 AM by superdad with 3 comment(s) Filed under: travel, Better off Dad, Mississippi, signs, stupidity [Edit Tags]

• The Life of a Rock Star – Very Similar to Hobos

  I guess I’ve always sort of wanted to be a rock star, in the same way I’ve always wanted to be the King of England or Tina Turner’s husband.  I mean, why not?  Is there a downside? But my eyes have recently been opened to the life of an actual rock star and I must say, it isn’t pretty. I was dropping off the Delta Squadron (I call them that because they’re from the Mississippi Delta. Get it?  Aren’t I hysterical?) at the community college recently and saw an ad that the band “Florez” was going to be performing at the college quad at noon. As it turns out, since I am hip and down with the people, I had actually heard of Florez.  My music guru, Kris, had given me a mixtape (ok, so it was a CD, but saying mixtape makes me feel more like I’m in a Molly Ringwald movie) that had a bunch of songs on it, including one by Florez.  It was a good song and the concert was free, so I thought, why not go?  Besides, Kris couldn’t go because she had to work, so I felt like I had to revel  in one more of the many benefits of being a Stay at Home Dad – random free community college concerts. I called a couple of nearby friends and we all planned to meet at the campus quad to hear the concert.  We all have kids and would need to sit off to the side so that our toddlers could romp and play.  I was afraid that we wouldn’t be able to see the band over the heads of all of the college kids thrashing around in the mosh pit, but I figured it would be a nice outing anyway. The day turned out to be perfect.  The sun was shining, it was about 72 degrees, you couldn’t have asked for much more in an outdoor concert.  Well, I guess you could have asked for one more thing in an outdoor concert - an audience. I was worried that I would have trouble finding my compatriots when I arrived, but it turned out that the shocking lack of any other people made this a fairly easy task.  There were probably less than 20 people sitting around listening to Florez, as the trio sang their little audience-less hearts out. We found a spot in the shade about 20 feet from the band with a view completely unobstructed by other people.  The lead singer was trying to give it the old college try though.  He kept saying things like: “It’s pretty clear that nobody here has heard of us, but I want to thank you all for coming out.” “You know, the sound system here isn’t all that great, but we sound really good on our CDs.  You’ve got to trust me on that.” “This next song actually was featured on an episode of Scrubs,”  (silence)  “which is  this pretty funny show on television”  (silence)  “Maybe you’ve heard of the show?   It’s pretty cool and …. Ok, here we go.” At one point he even promised to give away a CD to anyone who came up and danced to one of the songs.  This was one of the more interesting moments of the concert, and not just because people were pulling out some freaky dance moves, but because (A) I am always amazed at what people will do for free stuff, and (B) it was fascinating to see the diversity of, ahem, “different” people at the college. There was an older lady with a substantial set of hips that she set to swinging in rhythm to the music while she did some Irish step dancing, a gentleman dancing with a pole, a skinny girl in leather pants who at one point leaned all the way backward limbo-style and writhed on the floor and one couple who was swing dancing.  I have to say they did all earn their CDs. The one saving grace for this band was that there was also an activity fair at the quad.  This meant that there were a dozen or so tables with students from different clubs at them and a continuous stream of students milling through the area.  This gave the illusion of an audience and I’m sure that must have been reassuring to the band.  To be fair, at one point the “Midnight Troupers” drama club had more people around it than the band did, but I suspect you take what you can get. This all got me thinking about the life of a rock star.  I always assumed it mainly involved singing to venues of screaming fans and appearing on Good Morning America.  Apparently it’s more like playing your guitar in a subway station and hoping someone throws you a buck before the cops show up.  I wondered if Springsteen started off like this – traveling around Idaho Community Colleges playing to disinterested college kids who are too cool to stop and listen to some scruffy looking guy from Jersey singing about girls with big hair doing naughty things under this place called a “boardwalk” (ed. Note – Wikipedia confirms that, yes, this is what happened) So I bought a couple of CDs from Florez.  Partly because I like their sound and partly because they were only $5. If you like guitar driven alterno-folk-pop, then I’d recommend them.  I especially like the songs “Natalie” and “Sweet Tea.”  (Who wouldn’t like a song about the greatest beverage on the planet).  So check them out and maybe even see if they’re coming to a community college near you.  Just be sure to get there early…. Or not, it doesn’t seem to really matter. http://www.myspace.com/florez             My cool camera phone pic of the concert.  AWESOME! Posted Sep 11 2008, 05:12 AM by superdad with 1 comment(s) Filed under: Kris, Music, Better off Dad [Edit Tags]