8/31/12
August sits heavy over this town,
making my feet hit dull and leaden
onto the cracked tarmac street.
The orange leaves curl like
worried parents to protect moisture
exiting veins to midrib. The heat
coruscates everywhere: a car's hood,
an empty crosswalk, the evaporating
rivulets from a just-watered lawn.
As it wanes, as the days cool
we find ourselves outside with
outstretched arms, pleading for its
heat, its weight to return. Yearning
for its fatherly arm draped
over our shoulders.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Year of writing 241. Things I learned from Isla on the way home from school today.
8/30/12
These are the things I learned from my daughter on the way home from school today.
1. Snakes are made out of silk, not snot, like I obviously must have thought.
2. Tadpoles are baby frogs that haven't "blown out" their legs yet.
3. My Little Pony dolls are all named Penelope.
4. Jumping rope is easier if you think about candy while you jump.
5. You can't build houses out of peas. They're way too green.
These are the things I learned from my daughter on the way home from school today.
1. Snakes are made out of silk, not snot, like I obviously must have thought.
2. Tadpoles are baby frogs that haven't "blown out" their legs yet.
3. My Little Pony dolls are all named Penelope.
4. Jumping rope is easier if you think about candy while you jump.
5. You can't build houses out of peas. They're way too green.
Year of writing 240. Paradise.
8/29/12
My daughter has Wednesdays off from school, or "really shitty days" as I will call them from now on. I have no boa constrictor or tadpoles to make Isla happy, and she lets me know all day long. So, I decided to be proactive and take a little trip to visit mommy in Santa Barbara at her hospital. It was a good idea.
First, Miles didn't nap until we were approximately 3.5 seconds away from the parking lot in Santa Barbara. This meant that I had to wake up an already cranky baby from his one minute nap in order to bring him somewhere unfamiliar and just totally eff up his routine. Whee!
Second, we went to a beautiful outdoor courtyard with a river running through it and cabanas (go ahead Cottage Hospital!). The cafeteria has great food for ridiculously low prices, so we grabbed what we could with Isla complaining about having to eat whatever we chose. Then Miles wiped his entire lunch on Tegan's lab coat, and we left.
Third, all the way home, Isla wailed about missing her mommy.
Fourth, Netflix wasn't working on the computer, so she threw her stuffed animal at it and got time out.
Fifth, I put myself in time out for the rest of the day.
My daughter has Wednesdays off from school, or "really shitty days" as I will call them from now on. I have no boa constrictor or tadpoles to make Isla happy, and she lets me know all day long. So, I decided to be proactive and take a little trip to visit mommy in Santa Barbara at her hospital. It was a good idea.
First, Miles didn't nap until we were approximately 3.5 seconds away from the parking lot in Santa Barbara. This meant that I had to wake up an already cranky baby from his one minute nap in order to bring him somewhere unfamiliar and just totally eff up his routine. Whee!
Second, we went to a beautiful outdoor courtyard with a river running through it and cabanas (go ahead Cottage Hospital!). The cafeteria has great food for ridiculously low prices, so we grabbed what we could with Isla complaining about having to eat whatever we chose. Then Miles wiped his entire lunch on Tegan's lab coat, and we left.
Third, all the way home, Isla wailed about missing her mommy.
Fourth, Netflix wasn't working on the computer, so she threw her stuffed animal at it and got time out.
Fifth, I put myself in time out for the rest of the day.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Year of writing 239. Easy.
8/28/12
Today Isla went to school for real, it was her first day without me. Now, I have done my best to raise a child who can be independent without making horrible decisions, who is proud to be her own self, and all that good stuff. However, there is a part of me that is a little sad that when I drop her off at her brand new school, where she doesn't know anyone, she just says "Bye Daddy!" and runs off to go play in the school fountain. It stung a little.
That sting was removed when I picked her up from school a few hours later. "Daddy!" she yelled, " Daddy, when you left I sat by the oak tree and cried because I missed you."
"Oh, I'm sorry baby, did you feel better once you got into your class?"
"No, I just sat there and looked at the other children with tears dripping down my face."
"You are so melodromatic, sweetie."
"Thank you daddy."
Today Isla went to school for real, it was her first day without me. Now, I have done my best to raise a child who can be independent without making horrible decisions, who is proud to be her own self, and all that good stuff. However, there is a part of me that is a little sad that when I drop her off at her brand new school, where she doesn't know anyone, she just says "Bye Daddy!" and runs off to go play in the school fountain. It stung a little.
That sting was removed when I picked her up from school a few hours later. "Daddy!" she yelled, " Daddy, when you left I sat by the oak tree and cried because I missed you."
"Oh, I'm sorry baby, did you feel better once you got into your class?"
"No, I just sat there and looked at the other children with tears dripping down my face."
"You are so melodromatic, sweetie."
"Thank you daddy."
Monday, August 27, 2012
Year of writing 238. First day of Preschool.
8/27/12
My baby girl went to the orientation for preschool today. She had a fabulous time - checking the playground out, kicking it with the kids in class, who have such soCal names it's ridiculous : Peyton, Baylor, Harlowe. Come the fuck on. While she was playing with her new classmates in the "blue room," I had to mingle with the parents in the library. I am not an accomplished mingler. In fact, I am pretty terrible at it, I probably come off as uppity or aloof at best, but really I don't understand how to make small talk with people I don't know. I pretty much hate it.
That's why it was great to have my baby boy with me. When we had to break off into groups based on which color room our child was in for preschool, I sauntered up to a woman who looked like she would be friendly, said hello, my name is Aaron, and watched her look at me, my shoes, then turn to someone else. Nary a hello in sight. As if on cue, Miles realized he missed his first nap at that moment and announced it to the entire library as loud as he could. YES! An out! I love that boy.
That's why it was great to have my baby boy with me. When we had to break off into groups based on which color room our child was in for preschool, I sauntered up to a woman who looked like she would be friendly, said hello, my name is Aaron, and watched her look at me, my shoes, then turn to someone else. Nary a hello in sight. As if on cue, Miles realized he missed his first nap at that moment and announced it to the entire library as loud as he could. YES! An out! I love that boy.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Year of writing 237. Preschool
8/26/12
My daughter starts preschool tomorrow (well, it's a two hour welcoming kind of ease-on-in kind of thing, but you get the point). I have everything in order:
Emergency kit with extra clothes and flashlight.
Picture of summer break for bulletin board. The picture is the one from an earlier post, where Isla is posing like Usain Bolt on a rock.
Doctor's medical clearance
Emergency contact cards
Milk program sign up sheet
A short essay on Isla's interests and personality
The weeks outfits laid out, shoes and headbands coordinated.
Lunch treats purchased : rice crispy treats and fruit roll ups abound.
Pencils sharpened.
Field trip permission signed.
It's gonna be a big day tomorrow, I get to "meet and greet" with all the other parents while Isla warms up to her room. I hate stuff like this, but I will attempt to buffer my anti-socialism with a cute baby. That usually works. I also, on the urging of my sister in law, need to find the most put together mom or dad there and make friends, so my lazy ass can stay in the loop about what I'm supposed to do, like bake cookies or read books during quiet time, or some other equally momtastic thing.
My daughter starts preschool tomorrow (well, it's a two hour welcoming kind of ease-on-in kind of thing, but you get the point). I have everything in order:
Emergency kit with extra clothes and flashlight.
Picture of summer break for bulletin board. The picture is the one from an earlier post, where Isla is posing like Usain Bolt on a rock.
Doctor's medical clearance
Emergency contact cards
Milk program sign up sheet
A short essay on Isla's interests and personality
The weeks outfits laid out, shoes and headbands coordinated.
Lunch treats purchased : rice crispy treats and fruit roll ups abound.
Pencils sharpened.
Field trip permission signed.
It's gonna be a big day tomorrow, I get to "meet and greet" with all the other parents while Isla warms up to her room. I hate stuff like this, but I will attempt to buffer my anti-socialism with a cute baby. That usually works. I also, on the urging of my sister in law, need to find the most put together mom or dad there and make friends, so my lazy ass can stay in the loop about what I'm supposed to do, like bake cookies or read books during quiet time, or some other equally momtastic thing.
Year of writing 236. Putting it together.
8/25/12
Tegan has learned a few things about me in the 18 or so years we've been an item, the most recent being that if I am attempting to assemble some item of furniture, it is best to leave the entire vicinity completely. I tend to splutter and bluster and curse a whole lot, and when I inevitably lose a wrench or screw or board or some other vital component to the construction of whatever it is I am building, I tend to place blame on persons who are closest geographically to me.
This has been a hard lesson. When we got Isla's bunk bed, Tegan attempted to help me with the construction. With a hopeful heart she asked while I was cursing a crooked bolt if I needed her to hold the bed a certain way. Not only did I decline her help in a less than chivalrous fashion, I proceeded to blame the crooked nature of the bolt on her as well - I believe it was something about her femininity which acted like telekinesis and bent it.
This latest trip to the furniture store, however, during which we purchased a do it yourself patio table and chairs, I could tell was going to be a doozy, when it took 30 minutes to figure out how we were even going to fit it into the car. Like I said, however, Tegan has learned a few things, and this time, instead of offering to help, she grabbed both kids and hightailed it to her mom's house, safe from my curses and blame. Not only that, but she came home to a brand new patio set. Way to go Teg.
Tegan has learned a few things about me in the 18 or so years we've been an item, the most recent being that if I am attempting to assemble some item of furniture, it is best to leave the entire vicinity completely. I tend to splutter and bluster and curse a whole lot, and when I inevitably lose a wrench or screw or board or some other vital component to the construction of whatever it is I am building, I tend to place blame on persons who are closest geographically to me.
This has been a hard lesson. When we got Isla's bunk bed, Tegan attempted to help me with the construction. With a hopeful heart she asked while I was cursing a crooked bolt if I needed her to hold the bed a certain way. Not only did I decline her help in a less than chivalrous fashion, I proceeded to blame the crooked nature of the bolt on her as well - I believe it was something about her femininity which acted like telekinesis and bent it.
This latest trip to the furniture store, however, during which we purchased a do it yourself patio table and chairs, I could tell was going to be a doozy, when it took 30 minutes to figure out how we were even going to fit it into the car. Like I said, however, Tegan has learned a few things, and this time, instead of offering to help, she grabbed both kids and hightailed it to her mom's house, safe from my curses and blame. Not only that, but she came home to a brand new patio set. Way to go Teg.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Year of writing 235. Hunger Games.
8/24/12
Finally, after years of teaching the Hunger Games in Middle school to kids who all of a sudden realize that reading can be exciting, I got to see the movie tonight on my big huge monster of a consumer TV. I thought that the movie was excellent. Katniss was cast wonderfully, as were Haymitch, Peeta and the reporter guy. Lenny Kravitz was pretty good as Cinna, and Rue was played beautifully by Amandla Stenberg (whose casting controversy over twitter and social media because she is black was the most pathetic demonstration of racism and illiterate whining that I have seen in awhile).
I was entertained through most of the movie, although I felt like Katniss & Peeta's feigned romance was rushed, and there were opportunities to add more action to the forest scenes. I'm glad that the studio decided to keep the movie as violent and dark as the book, since the lessons taught here really do hinge around death and violence as entertainment. Overall, I give it an A. Good.
Finally, after years of teaching the Hunger Games in Middle school to kids who all of a sudden realize that reading can be exciting, I got to see the movie tonight on my big huge monster of a consumer TV. I thought that the movie was excellent. Katniss was cast wonderfully, as were Haymitch, Peeta and the reporter guy. Lenny Kravitz was pretty good as Cinna, and Rue was played beautifully by Amandla Stenberg (whose casting controversy over twitter and social media because she is black was the most pathetic demonstration of racism and illiterate whining that I have seen in awhile).
I was entertained through most of the movie, although I felt like Katniss & Peeta's feigned romance was rushed, and there were opportunities to add more action to the forest scenes. I'm glad that the studio decided to keep the movie as violent and dark as the book, since the lessons taught here really do hinge around death and violence as entertainment. Overall, I give it an A. Good.
Year of writing 234. Tomatillos.
8/23/12
In order to receive my sister and brother in law's farm CSA, I help pick at the farm and write recipes for their blog at http://riogozofarm.blogspot.com/. It's been a great relationship - fresh veggies all year, plus motivation to cook good food. In this week's box was a ton of tomatillos, those fresh green pepper looking tomato things with husks. The food I made today was CRAZY good.
Here's the recipe
for the salsa:
4 pasillas (roasted dried peppers) You can find them at any mexican market or even the mexican section at the supermarket.
about a pound of fresh tomatillos, husked, rinsed and quartered
a cup of cilantro
3 garlic cloves
tbsp packed dark brown sugar
1 tsp molasses
tsp ground cumin
1/3 cup vegetable oil
Cut your chilis in half, stem and seed them. On a dry skillet at medium heat, use some sort of kitchen gadget to flatten the chilis out on the pan for about a minute, until they change color a little and get pliable, like good children should be. Then cover with warm water in a bowl and wait 20 minutes. I suggest listening to some Corridos. Throw the chilis in the blender with the rest of the ingredients above, add a little salt and puree for a minute or so. Then put your oil in the pan on medium again, and when the oil is shimmery like Freddy Mercury's pants, put the salsa in. It will splatter, so don't actually wear Freddy's pants. Stir every once in awhile for about 8 minutes, until the salsa thickens a little.
You can do this ahead and reheat when you're ready.
For the Steak and salad:
1 1/2 pounds skirt or flank steak
2 tbsp vegetable oil
tsp ground cumin
salt & pepper
1/2 lb tomatillos, husked and washed
cup of cilantro
1 diced shallot
juice from one lime
2 tbsp olive oil
Start your barbecue, then whisk together vegetable oil, cumin, and salt & pepper. Brush on steak. Barbecue to desired doneness - it's thin, mine took 4-5 minutes per side. Let rest on cutting board for ten minutes. While it's resting, slice tomatillos very thin, and toss with olive oil, shallot, cilantro, and lime juice. Salt and pepper to taste - serve. so. good.
In order to receive my sister and brother in law's farm CSA, I help pick at the farm and write recipes for their blog at http://riogozofarm.blogspot.com/. It's been a great relationship - fresh veggies all year, plus motivation to cook good food. In this week's box was a ton of tomatillos, those fresh green pepper looking tomato things with husks. The food I made today was CRAZY good.
Here's the recipe
for the salsa:
4 pasillas (roasted dried peppers) You can find them at any mexican market or even the mexican section at the supermarket.
about a pound of fresh tomatillos, husked, rinsed and quartered
a cup of cilantro
3 garlic cloves
tbsp packed dark brown sugar
1 tsp molasses
tsp ground cumin
1/3 cup vegetable oil
Cut your chilis in half, stem and seed them. On a dry skillet at medium heat, use some sort of kitchen gadget to flatten the chilis out on the pan for about a minute, until they change color a little and get pliable, like good children should be. Then cover with warm water in a bowl and wait 20 minutes. I suggest listening to some Corridos. Throw the chilis in the blender with the rest of the ingredients above, add a little salt and puree for a minute or so. Then put your oil in the pan on medium again, and when the oil is shimmery like Freddy Mercury's pants, put the salsa in. It will splatter, so don't actually wear Freddy's pants. Stir every once in awhile for about 8 minutes, until the salsa thickens a little.
You can do this ahead and reheat when you're ready.
For the Steak and salad:
1 1/2 pounds skirt or flank steak
2 tbsp vegetable oil
tsp ground cumin
salt & pepper
1/2 lb tomatillos, husked and washed
cup of cilantro
1 diced shallot
juice from one lime
2 tbsp olive oil
Start your barbecue, then whisk together vegetable oil, cumin, and salt & pepper. Brush on steak. Barbecue to desired doneness - it's thin, mine took 4-5 minutes per side. Let rest on cutting board for ten minutes. While it's resting, slice tomatillos very thin, and toss with olive oil, shallot, cilantro, and lime juice. Salt and pepper to taste - serve. so. good.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Year of writing 233. All better.
8/22/12
As my back felt decidedly better, and my cold has subsided somewhat, I thought "why not get the crap done that never got done while you were floor-ridden, Aaron..." So, I decided to take the kids to Target to get the essentials for the week - now, I love Target, I'm a huge fan - however, during back to school time, Target turns into a cesspool of whining children, flustered parents, and long lines. It was a horrible idea. I would have rather been at wal-mart or the county fair - although honestly on this day, all three were probably the same thing.
As my back felt decidedly better, and my cold has subsided somewhat, I thought "why not get the crap done that never got done while you were floor-ridden, Aaron..." So, I decided to take the kids to Target to get the essentials for the week - now, I love Target, I'm a huge fan - however, during back to school time, Target turns into a cesspool of whining children, flustered parents, and long lines. It was a horrible idea. I would have rather been at wal-mart or the county fair - although honestly on this day, all three were probably the same thing.
Year of writing 232. On my back.
8/21/12
When one is relegated to one's back for an entire day, and one spends said day on the floor of his living room because of the lack of mobility in aforementioned back, one finds interesting things to notice.
1) There is a spot underneath the fireplace brick that has probably never ever been vacuumed. Now that I see it, I will respect it's privacy and not vacuum it ever.
2) Pets have no regard for your privacy when on your back - they will in fact go out of their way to step on your genitals and attempt to sleep on your face or chest.
3) Don't look under the couch unless you really want to know what is there. As an addendum, I have no idea how our couch collected so much detritus in the last 3 months.
4) The ceiling is boring, and watching tv from the floor hurts.
5) The carpet is way dirtier than you think it is. Trust me.
6) Two children are not entertained by playing "Beached whale, plank of wood, or dead daddy" all day long.
When one is relegated to one's back for an entire day, and one spends said day on the floor of his living room because of the lack of mobility in aforementioned back, one finds interesting things to notice.
1) There is a spot underneath the fireplace brick that has probably never ever been vacuumed. Now that I see it, I will respect it's privacy and not vacuum it ever.
2) Pets have no regard for your privacy when on your back - they will in fact go out of their way to step on your genitals and attempt to sleep on your face or chest.
3) Don't look under the couch unless you really want to know what is there. As an addendum, I have no idea how our couch collected so much detritus in the last 3 months.
4) The ceiling is boring, and watching tv from the floor hurts.
5) The carpet is way dirtier than you think it is. Trust me.
6) Two children are not entertained by playing "Beached whale, plank of wood, or dead daddy" all day long.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Year of writing 231. The day after.
8/20/12
I got in last night at 2:30 or so. Miles woke up at 5:45. Do the math. As I got up to get some toys to occupy Mr. Killjoy, my back started having spasms so badly I could do nothing but stand at a ridiculous angle making faces like a cod that just landed in the boat. Basically I was the leaning tower of fish face for what seemed like days, but was probably just a couple minutes. Once I could safely move without my spine ejecting itself from my body, I realized how groggy and cloudy I felt. I have taught school long enough to understand when I'm getting sick - and I was deep in it at this point. So to recap, it's 5:50 AM, I've had 3 hours of sleep, I have a head and chest cold, and my back doesn't work. This had the makings of an epic clusterfuck of a day.
However, my lovely daughter decided that today was the day she would become the bastion for all things 4 years old. She politely asked me to print her some coloring pages from the internet - to which I happily obliged, then proceeded to spend the next three and a half hours coloring Smurfs, fairies, Powerpuff Girls and Star Wars characters. Miles scooted around on the floor contentedly, and I lay down on the carpet like a throw rug. Then, when I had to put Miles down for his first nap, Isla suggested I let her play on the iPad while I slept with Miles. This is my four year old daughter taking care of me. I think I'm in good hands when I get old and decrepit. OK, older and decrepiter.
I got in last night at 2:30 or so. Miles woke up at 5:45. Do the math. As I got up to get some toys to occupy Mr. Killjoy, my back started having spasms so badly I could do nothing but stand at a ridiculous angle making faces like a cod that just landed in the boat. Basically I was the leaning tower of fish face for what seemed like days, but was probably just a couple minutes. Once I could safely move without my spine ejecting itself from my body, I realized how groggy and cloudy I felt. I have taught school long enough to understand when I'm getting sick - and I was deep in it at this point. So to recap, it's 5:50 AM, I've had 3 hours of sleep, I have a head and chest cold, and my back doesn't work. This had the makings of an epic clusterfuck of a day.
However, my lovely daughter decided that today was the day she would become the bastion for all things 4 years old. She politely asked me to print her some coloring pages from the internet - to which I happily obliged, then proceeded to spend the next three and a half hours coloring Smurfs, fairies, Powerpuff Girls and Star Wars characters. Miles scooted around on the floor contentedly, and I lay down on the carpet like a throw rug. Then, when I had to put Miles down for his first nap, Isla suggested I let her play on the iPad while I slept with Miles. This is my four year old daughter taking care of me. I think I'm in good hands when I get old and decrepit. OK, older and decrepiter.
Year of writing 230. The long trip.
8/19/12
The way back was excruciating. My back was killing me, I was carsick from the windy roads, I was tired from lack of sleeping, dehydrated, I had to DJ that night when we got home, and I had a bad case of the Whines. We did make it back safely, however, and after agonizingly unloading the car, I showered and headed out for what turned out to be one of the Wild Stallions best sets ever. We decided to go all 80's for this Sunday's show - and it was a winning choice. The dance floor was never empty, the drinks were flowing, the bartenders dancing, and all was groovy. We spun until 1:15 or so, the highlights being the two nurses, still in scrubs, who were freaking people to Devo and the homeless guy who came and showered in the bathroom, then shook his shit all over the dance floor.
The way back was excruciating. My back was killing me, I was carsick from the windy roads, I was tired from lack of sleeping, dehydrated, I had to DJ that night when we got home, and I had a bad case of the Whines. We did make it back safely, however, and after agonizingly unloading the car, I showered and headed out for what turned out to be one of the Wild Stallions best sets ever. We decided to go all 80's for this Sunday's show - and it was a winning choice. The dance floor was never empty, the drinks were flowing, the bartenders dancing, and all was groovy. We spun until 1:15 or so, the highlights being the two nurses, still in scrubs, who were freaking people to Devo and the homeless guy who came and showered in the bathroom, then shook his shit all over the dance floor.
Year of writing 229. The poses.
8/18/12
The only full day of camping was great, good food and good company. I did however notice a disturbing trend with Isla while she was posing on rocks. Let the pictures do the talking.
Year of writing 228. Camping!
8/17/12
We left at 6 AM instead of 4, which is just fine in my book, but Tegan was a little miffed at the situation. This would put us in the Sierras at our site around noon. Perfect. The drive was easy as it could be (of course I wasn't driving, so that helps). Regardless, the trip up was beautiful and uneventful, just like I like my women. We got to the campground, and our favorite spot was taken - which isn't horrible, it just means we have to hike about a hundred yards to our secret spot, that I can't reveal at this juncture. So - off we went unloading our small household worth of camping supplies and carting them through the boulders to the hidden spot.
This would be a good time to point out that I had tweaked the crap out of my back the day before, which is a great aside. Why is it that we hurt our backs doing the most banal shit? This time it was by checking to see what was in the dryer. That's right, I rendered myself painful and useless by LOOKING IN A DRYER. Come on.
OK, back to the camping. We finally got unloaded, and as we were bringing our last armfuls to camp, the nice Tijuana missionaries who were bow hunting and camped in the spot we wanted, invited us to an authentic Mexican lunch. Sweet! Strangely, this Mexican family was headed by a man named Bob Lawson, or some other comparatively white surname, and we found out later it was through the Missionary work he had done. Cool, whatever, free lunch. I found the fare delicious, although the meat they served was definitely killed by them, and had all the respective tendons and veins and such attached. 'Authentic.'
After that fabulous introduction to our trip we went over to the site to set up. You should know that it has been in the upper 80s in this part of the Sierras for the past two weeks. Today it decided to rain instead. Right as we were setting up our tent. And thunder, and rain some more. So - we got completely soaked, and then had to wait out the rain in our damp tent with our damp stuff. Ah, the great outdoors. Luckily it only lasted a few hours, then our friends Annie and Frank from Oakland showed up with their son, and it was game on - No more rain.
We left at 6 AM instead of 4, which is just fine in my book, but Tegan was a little miffed at the situation. This would put us in the Sierras at our site around noon. Perfect. The drive was easy as it could be (of course I wasn't driving, so that helps). Regardless, the trip up was beautiful and uneventful, just like I like my women. We got to the campground, and our favorite spot was taken - which isn't horrible, it just means we have to hike about a hundred yards to our secret spot, that I can't reveal at this juncture. So - off we went unloading our small household worth of camping supplies and carting them through the boulders to the hidden spot.
This would be a good time to point out that I had tweaked the crap out of my back the day before, which is a great aside. Why is it that we hurt our backs doing the most banal shit? This time it was by checking to see what was in the dryer. That's right, I rendered myself painful and useless by LOOKING IN A DRYER. Come on.
OK, back to the camping. We finally got unloaded, and as we were bringing our last armfuls to camp, the nice Tijuana missionaries who were bow hunting and camped in the spot we wanted, invited us to an authentic Mexican lunch. Sweet! Strangely, this Mexican family was headed by a man named Bob Lawson, or some other comparatively white surname, and we found out later it was through the Missionary work he had done. Cool, whatever, free lunch. I found the fare delicious, although the meat they served was definitely killed by them, and had all the respective tendons and veins and such attached. 'Authentic.'
After that fabulous introduction to our trip we went over to the site to set up. You should know that it has been in the upper 80s in this part of the Sierras for the past two weeks. Today it decided to rain instead. Right as we were setting up our tent. And thunder, and rain some more. So - we got completely soaked, and then had to wait out the rain in our damp tent with our damp stuff. Ah, the great outdoors. Luckily it only lasted a few hours, then our friends Annie and Frank from Oakland showed up with their son, and it was game on - No more rain.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Year of writing 227.
8/16/12
I don't understand how a kid's mind works sometimes. Today Isla was a little bored in the morning, so I thought I'd show her how to sharpen her colored pencils (a 12 pack of unsharpened crayolas). She was pretty stoked on using the electric sharpener, and I figured it would buy me enough time to feed the baby some breakfast. Almost 2 hours later, I had to go in and see what she was doing, because she hadn't come out of her playroom yet. I expected to find her coloring or drawing something, but instead she had found my Teachers stash of colored pencils from art class - I'm talking about the butt ends, floor pencils and broken pieces I had saved for free time over the last ten years of teaching. There are probably over a thousand pencils in this box. One by one, she was methodically sharpening the pencils, then carefully breaking the really sharp tip, just like I had shown her. She was so rapt that I couldn't bring myself to interrupt her.
So the good news is, her ADD is not as rampant as I thought. The bad news is I have to substitute the letters OCD instead. Oh well.
I don't understand how a kid's mind works sometimes. Today Isla was a little bored in the morning, so I thought I'd show her how to sharpen her colored pencils (a 12 pack of unsharpened crayolas). She was pretty stoked on using the electric sharpener, and I figured it would buy me enough time to feed the baby some breakfast. Almost 2 hours later, I had to go in and see what she was doing, because she hadn't come out of her playroom yet. I expected to find her coloring or drawing something, but instead she had found my Teachers stash of colored pencils from art class - I'm talking about the butt ends, floor pencils and broken pieces I had saved for free time over the last ten years of teaching. There are probably over a thousand pencils in this box. One by one, she was methodically sharpening the pencils, then carefully breaking the really sharp tip, just like I had shown her. She was so rapt that I couldn't bring myself to interrupt her.
So the good news is, her ADD is not as rampant as I thought. The bad news is I have to substitute the letters OCD instead. Oh well.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Year of writing 226. Camp prep.
8/15/12
As I was gathering the essentials for our camping trip early Friday morning (variety boxes of cereal, coffee, little toothpastes), I realized this will be the first trip with our little nuclear family of four. I have so many good memories of camping with my family growing up, and I can't wait to get out and set up camp with both my little ones in tow. I think Isla is old enough to go on her first Snipe hunt, and Miles will have plenty of dirt and sticks to gnaw on, hell maybe even cut a tooth on good old mother nature already.
When I asked Isla to pick out something special for our camping trip to bring along, she chose Mr. Bear. This means nothing unless you understand that Mr. Bear is a ratty old teddy bear that belonged both to me and my sister growing up. He has one eye, half an ear, and S'mores stains on him from the various times we took him camping growing up. Of course I told Isla that we took the bear camping as kids a long time ago, but when she wanted to bring him, I almost lost my shit. I love little things like that.
As I was gathering the essentials for our camping trip early Friday morning (variety boxes of cereal, coffee, little toothpastes), I realized this will be the first trip with our little nuclear family of four. I have so many good memories of camping with my family growing up, and I can't wait to get out and set up camp with both my little ones in tow. I think Isla is old enough to go on her first Snipe hunt, and Miles will have plenty of dirt and sticks to gnaw on, hell maybe even cut a tooth on good old mother nature already.
When I asked Isla to pick out something special for our camping trip to bring along, she chose Mr. Bear. This means nothing unless you understand that Mr. Bear is a ratty old teddy bear that belonged both to me and my sister growing up. He has one eye, half an ear, and S'mores stains on him from the various times we took him camping growing up. Of course I told Isla that we took the bear camping as kids a long time ago, but when she wanted to bring him, I almost lost my shit. I love little things like that.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Year of writing 225. Seriously?
8/14/12
It seems like I write more about the bad days than the good ones on this blog, but that's probably because they are way more fun to write. It's like I get a reward for surviving these horrendous excuses for days when I finally settle down into the couch to write.
So, on that note, here is how today went:
7-9 AM Breakfast was pretty uneventful. I was prepared with syrup so Isla wouldn't throw her fork through the window, and the waffles were perfect. Boom. Easy start to the day.
9 -10:30 AM - Isla's cousin Zia shows up for an all-day playdate... this is awesome. It means that I will barely see her, because they just go play barbie unicorn pillow cloud or whatever in her room - Shoot, they even watch Miles for awhile. Wait a minute, this day is awesome!
10:50 AM - Girls get their swimsuits on for dual swimming lessons, we get everybody sunscreened with no whining, and this is rad. Everybody hurries from the house to the car, because it's 102 outside today, but that's cool, we're going SWIMMING!
11:00 AM - The girls are starting to whine about how hot it is in the car, as I strap Miles in and hurry to the drivers side to start up the AC. Key in, and... nothing. No engine turnover, no clicking, just a weak ass "door ajar" chime that starts to die as I hold the key in the ingnition. F***. I don't know how I did it, but I actually said that - asterisks included, for the benefit of the four year olds in the car.
11:10 AM - I have a mini breakdown, trying to figure out how to get these girls to their 50.00 no refund swimming lesson with no car. I decide to put Miles on with the baby carrier and walk the mile or so to the pool. One can walk a mile in 10 minutes, right?
11:20 AM - I finally get miles into the baby carrier and the girls into a wagon, so there will be no whining. Isla's lesson starts at 11:20. It's 102 degrees outside. I'm an idiot.
11:40 AM - We made it roughly half a mile. There is sweat pouring from my forearms. From MY FUCKING FOREARMS. There should never be sweat on your forearms. I look up and realize in my haste to book it to the lessons, I tried to go down a street that HAS NO OUTLET. Now, when you've been dragging a wagon laden with preschoolers, with a baby about the size and temperature of a roast turkey on your chest, and it is 102 degrees outside, if the street has no outlet, you give up. I gave up, turned around and headed to the popsicle store. I bought five. Three for me, one for Isla and one for her cousin. No swimming for anyone. Another hot ass 20 minutes to walk home.
12:00 PM - Finally back home - now I can call AAA and have them bring me a battery, we have AC, so the girls can still play their rainbow princess marshmallow game and I can chill out and wait for the car to be fixed. EXCEPT THAT ON THE WAY TO THE HOUSE I SEE A TREE HAS TAKEN OUT A POWER LINE AND WE HAVE NO POWER!!! That means no AC, no fan, no cooked lunch, etc...
12:20 PM Zia's mom comes and swoops up Isla and her cousin, saving my life. I wait in a hot ass house with my hot ass baby until he wakes up from his hot ass nap.
Honestly, the rest of the day is irrelevant. I have had such a ridiculous hour that anything else pales in comparison. I'll just say, the power came back 5 hours later, triple A never came, so I bought my own battery and installed it, and tomorrow better just shape the fuck up. Right now.
It seems like I write more about the bad days than the good ones on this blog, but that's probably because they are way more fun to write. It's like I get a reward for surviving these horrendous excuses for days when I finally settle down into the couch to write.
So, on that note, here is how today went:
7-9 AM Breakfast was pretty uneventful. I was prepared with syrup so Isla wouldn't throw her fork through the window, and the waffles were perfect. Boom. Easy start to the day.
9 -10:30 AM - Isla's cousin Zia shows up for an all-day playdate... this is awesome. It means that I will barely see her, because they just go play barbie unicorn pillow cloud or whatever in her room - Shoot, they even watch Miles for awhile. Wait a minute, this day is awesome!
10:50 AM - Girls get their swimsuits on for dual swimming lessons, we get everybody sunscreened with no whining, and this is rad. Everybody hurries from the house to the car, because it's 102 outside today, but that's cool, we're going SWIMMING!
11:00 AM - The girls are starting to whine about how hot it is in the car, as I strap Miles in and hurry to the drivers side to start up the AC. Key in, and... nothing. No engine turnover, no clicking, just a weak ass "door ajar" chime that starts to die as I hold the key in the ingnition. F***. I don't know how I did it, but I actually said that - asterisks included, for the benefit of the four year olds in the car.
11:10 AM - I have a mini breakdown, trying to figure out how to get these girls to their 50.00 no refund swimming lesson with no car. I decide to put Miles on with the baby carrier and walk the mile or so to the pool. One can walk a mile in 10 minutes, right?
11:20 AM - I finally get miles into the baby carrier and the girls into a wagon, so there will be no whining. Isla's lesson starts at 11:20. It's 102 degrees outside. I'm an idiot.
11:40 AM - We made it roughly half a mile. There is sweat pouring from my forearms. From MY FUCKING FOREARMS. There should never be sweat on your forearms. I look up and realize in my haste to book it to the lessons, I tried to go down a street that HAS NO OUTLET. Now, when you've been dragging a wagon laden with preschoolers, with a baby about the size and temperature of a roast turkey on your chest, and it is 102 degrees outside, if the street has no outlet, you give up. I gave up, turned around and headed to the popsicle store. I bought five. Three for me, one for Isla and one for her cousin. No swimming for anyone. Another hot ass 20 minutes to walk home.
12:00 PM - Finally back home - now I can call AAA and have them bring me a battery, we have AC, so the girls can still play their rainbow princess marshmallow game and I can chill out and wait for the car to be fixed. EXCEPT THAT ON THE WAY TO THE HOUSE I SEE A TREE HAS TAKEN OUT A POWER LINE AND WE HAVE NO POWER!!! That means no AC, no fan, no cooked lunch, etc...
12:20 PM Zia's mom comes and swoops up Isla and her cousin, saving my life. I wait in a hot ass house with my hot ass baby until he wakes up from his hot ass nap.
Honestly, the rest of the day is irrelevant. I have had such a ridiculous hour that anything else pales in comparison. I'll just say, the power came back 5 hours later, triple A never came, so I bought my own battery and installed it, and tomorrow better just shape the fuck up. Right now.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Year of writing 224. Cry Wolf.
8/13/12
My daughter has now officially begun crying wolf. She will let loose with the same wail and torrent from her eyeballs whether she has fallen face first onto sandpaper, or if she has to leave her cousins house early. It is something that we really need to work on, because I am developing a callousness to her laments. Today she cried piteously when she lost her balloon, the tears threatening to fill the inside of our Highlander. They were cut off immediately as soon as I offered a spongebob pushup yogurt Popsicle, which suggests they were possibly manufactured rather than triggered by an actual emotional need. Then, at her gymnastics practice, I had to go outside and feed Miles, when I was interrupted by a screaming and crying Isla accompanied by one of the teenage gymnastics instructors. She told me Isla had dropped off the high bar without telling the teacher she was ready, and fell face first onto the mat. Seeing as her response was the exact same volume and intensity as the loss of a balloon, I found it hard to muster the correct level of sympathy. The barometer has to be ice cream. If ice cream is offered and there is no change in mood, she's seriously in trouble. Otherwise, whatever, Isla.
My daughter has now officially begun crying wolf. She will let loose with the same wail and torrent from her eyeballs whether she has fallen face first onto sandpaper, or if she has to leave her cousins house early. It is something that we really need to work on, because I am developing a callousness to her laments. Today she cried piteously when she lost her balloon, the tears threatening to fill the inside of our Highlander. They were cut off immediately as soon as I offered a spongebob pushup yogurt Popsicle, which suggests they were possibly manufactured rather than triggered by an actual emotional need. Then, at her gymnastics practice, I had to go outside and feed Miles, when I was interrupted by a screaming and crying Isla accompanied by one of the teenage gymnastics instructors. She told me Isla had dropped off the high bar without telling the teacher she was ready, and fell face first onto the mat. Seeing as her response was the exact same volume and intensity as the loss of a balloon, I found it hard to muster the correct level of sympathy. The barometer has to be ice cream. If ice cream is offered and there is no change in mood, she's seriously in trouble. Otherwise, whatever, Isla.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Year of writing 223. sundays
8/12/12
My eyes are heavy this morning -
I can feel the wrinkles at their corners
I sit in artificial cool, watching the sun
beat the shit out of the driveway outside.
I need to move, can feel it in my joints,
they crackle with anticipation for anything.
Instead I sit on a faux suede couch
hunched in the pose of an old man.
Sundays were not meant for me,
I need the push of a beginning, or
the anxiety of an approaching end.
These Sundays are too final, too gone.
My eyes are heavy this morning -
I can feel the wrinkles at their corners
I sit in artificial cool, watching the sun
beat the shit out of the driveway outside.
I need to move, can feel it in my joints,
they crackle with anticipation for anything.
Instead I sit on a faux suede couch
hunched in the pose of an old man.
Sundays were not meant for me,
I need the push of a beginning, or
the anxiety of an approaching end.
These Sundays are too final, too gone.
Year of writing 222. The picnic.
8/11/12
#222 - besides being a television show that was canceled before I was born, is a great number. I am continually proud of myself for doing this on a daily basis, and will continue to compliment my needy ego as it goes.
Today Tegan's work put on a "picnic." First off, Tegan's hospital is BALLIN'! At this picnic, for 10.00 a person you got free everything - face painting, food (ribs & tri tip), drinks, caricatures, balloons, carnival games, horse rides, hair feathers, bouncy houses, crazy bungee jumping - it was nuts. Isla definitely had her fill of fun, choosing one of everything there was to do. I was particularly fond of the Alpaca in the petting zoo - they make rad whining sounds, sort of like TaunTauns from Star Wars. In fact, I was daydreaming about making a stinky sleeping bag out of this particularly whiny alpaca when Isla started getting nibbled by a pregnant goat. We got the hell out of there quick. We moved on to a pony ride setup, presided over by a butch woman in a western shirt and businessman haircut who manhandled all the kids onto the ponies, then caressed her horses gently. I was nervous. It was all OK, though.
We found out that Isla is too light for the bungee jumper thing, which was just fine by me, although I had to placate her with a pirate bounce house and a churro in order to ease the sting of being too small. All in all, this picnic was pretty awesome - I love free stuff, and it abounded here.
The hat in this picture was created by a very large jolly Mexican man in a tiedie shirt who kept making elephant noises and declared "I LOVE BALLOONS" about 7.3 times while making it. The show was way better than the finished product.
#222 - besides being a television show that was canceled before I was born, is a great number. I am continually proud of myself for doing this on a daily basis, and will continue to compliment my needy ego as it goes.
Today Tegan's work put on a "picnic." First off, Tegan's hospital is BALLIN'! At this picnic, for 10.00 a person you got free everything - face painting, food (ribs & tri tip), drinks, caricatures, balloons, carnival games, horse rides, hair feathers, bouncy houses, crazy bungee jumping - it was nuts. Isla definitely had her fill of fun, choosing one of everything there was to do. I was particularly fond of the Alpaca in the petting zoo - they make rad whining sounds, sort of like TaunTauns from Star Wars. In fact, I was daydreaming about making a stinky sleeping bag out of this particularly whiny alpaca when Isla started getting nibbled by a pregnant goat. We got the hell out of there quick. We moved on to a pony ride setup, presided over by a butch woman in a western shirt and businessman haircut who manhandled all the kids onto the ponies, then caressed her horses gently. I was nervous. It was all OK, though.
We found out that Isla is too light for the bungee jumper thing, which was just fine by me, although I had to placate her with a pirate bounce house and a churro in order to ease the sting of being too small. All in all, this picnic was pretty awesome - I love free stuff, and it abounded here.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Year of writing 221. The wall.
8/10/12
I've been a full time stay at home dad now since May. That's three months of not knowing what the date is, having schedules dictated by when gymnastics practice is, when the baby needs a nap, what we need for dinner, and when the pool is open. Usually things are golden, it's easy - I keep kids busy with some kind of activity and get some stuff done when it's quiet. Today, however I hit a wall. Actually, it was more like I hit the median wall doing 120 in a Mazda Miata. Boom. It happened about 9:23 AM, when I realized we ran out of maple syrup and Isla refused to eat her waffle with butter and powdered sugar. I just kind of quit. It's a little surreal to take a break from yourself when you have kids screaming around you, to just sit in a chair and zone. Unfortunately, life with children doesn't have a pause button. Fortunately, I have a daughter who possesses a high maturity level for a four year old. I calmly explained to her that I needed some alone time, and I would really appreciate it if she would go color, or shave the cat, or light matches somewhere unsupervised, to which she replied; "can I eat some of my sugarless gum?" Yes, Ma'am, you may.
I've been a full time stay at home dad now since May. That's three months of not knowing what the date is, having schedules dictated by when gymnastics practice is, when the baby needs a nap, what we need for dinner, and when the pool is open. Usually things are golden, it's easy - I keep kids busy with some kind of activity and get some stuff done when it's quiet. Today, however I hit a wall. Actually, it was more like I hit the median wall doing 120 in a Mazda Miata. Boom. It happened about 9:23 AM, when I realized we ran out of maple syrup and Isla refused to eat her waffle with butter and powdered sugar. I just kind of quit. It's a little surreal to take a break from yourself when you have kids screaming around you, to just sit in a chair and zone. Unfortunately, life with children doesn't have a pause button. Fortunately, I have a daughter who possesses a high maturity level for a four year old. I calmly explained to her that I needed some alone time, and I would really appreciate it if she would go color, or shave the cat, or light matches somewhere unsupervised, to which she replied; "can I eat some of my sugarless gum?" Yes, Ma'am, you may.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Year of writing 221. The fish
8/9/12
There is a fish on the television
it lives in the deepest part of the ocean
in the ghost-dark water it hangs
suspended like a grotesque ornament
Its teeth are clear needles, its eyes
dull plates, useless in this place
My daughter stares, mouth agape
she asks what kind of monster
this thing is, flinches when I tell her
it's real, then crawls up in my lap
she whispers, looking straight ahead
"is that fish ugly, daddy?"
"I think some people would say so,"
I reply, "but it doesn't matter, he's
always in the dark anyway."
This girl of four tilts her head toward
mine, our faces chin to forehead,
"I want it to be happy in the light too,"
she says, "I want ugly to be gone."
There is a fish on the television
it lives in the deepest part of the ocean
in the ghost-dark water it hangs
suspended like a grotesque ornament
Its teeth are clear needles, its eyes
dull plates, useless in this place
My daughter stares, mouth agape
she asks what kind of monster
this thing is, flinches when I tell her
it's real, then crawls up in my lap
she whispers, looking straight ahead
"is that fish ugly, daddy?"
"I think some people would say so,"
I reply, "but it doesn't matter, he's
always in the dark anyway."
This girl of four tilts her head toward
mine, our faces chin to forehead,
"I want it to be happy in the light too,"
she says, "I want ugly to be gone."
Year of writing 220. Brave.
8/8/12
Two sick kids is horrible. It is a horrible compounded to the 43rd power when it's hot and you can't go anywhere. This means today was a project day - I was on fire. We started with macaroni, bean, and split pea art. Just imagine it, dammit. Then, moved on to try and create a "Brave" bow and arrow with PVC and string. I will do this in the positive/negative chart format:
Two sick kids is horrible. It is a horrible compounded to the 43rd power when it's hot and you can't go anywhere. This means today was a project day - I was on fire. We started with macaroni, bean, and split pea art. Just imagine it, dammit. Then, moved on to try and create a "Brave" bow and arrow with PVC and string. I will do this in the positive/negative chart format:
|
Positives |
Negatives |
|
1. Finished project is rad. 2. Isla said “I'm the luckiest girl to have a Daddy that makes me Brave bow and arrows. 3. I made something.  |
1. Miles put pvc primer all over his legs, dying them purple. 2. Miles grabbed in this order: a knife, pvc primer, a lighter, and some dog poop while I was attempting to string the bow. 3. Isla heard some choice words during the aforementioned activity. |
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Year of writing 219. The heat
8/7/12
The heat in my new home is something that I had forgotten about. It doesn't smack you in the face like the dry heat in Vegas, nor does it make you feel like you're drowning, like Louisiana, Florida or New York in the summer. What it does is seep slowly into your bones, you notice your forehead sweat first, just a sheen, then it starts to move down until you have to immerse yourself in water by any means necessary. It has been over 100 for a few days now, and I thank the people who invented AC with all my heart. Same with the people who invented beaches, and pools, and lemonade with lots of ice.
I remember once in high school, during a 100+ degree summer day in this same hot ass town, my future wife and I thought up a fun game. We got in my red '86 Toyota Tercel hatchback, rolled the windows up, turned the heater on full blast, and tried to see how long we could last. I'm pretty sure that's why I married her. We made it all the way to the ice cream store, I'm sure.
The heat in my new home is something that I had forgotten about. It doesn't smack you in the face like the dry heat in Vegas, nor does it make you feel like you're drowning, like Louisiana, Florida or New York in the summer. What it does is seep slowly into your bones, you notice your forehead sweat first, just a sheen, then it starts to move down until you have to immerse yourself in water by any means necessary. It has been over 100 for a few days now, and I thank the people who invented AC with all my heart. Same with the people who invented beaches, and pools, and lemonade with lots of ice.
I remember once in high school, during a 100+ degree summer day in this same hot ass town, my future wife and I thought up a fun game. We got in my red '86 Toyota Tercel hatchback, rolled the windows up, turned the heater on full blast, and tried to see how long we could last. I'm pretty sure that's why I married her. We made it all the way to the ice cream store, I'm sure.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Year of writing 218. Crazy mornings.
8/6/12
Mornings are my least favorite time of the day. They always have been - I take about 2 hours to wake up completely, and am pretty much a jerk during the interim. Nothing makes sense to me, my coordination is all off, and I have a short temper. I basically age 40 years every time I wake up, then gradually get less curmudgeonly during the day. Now being as my kids have been living with me their entire short lives, they tend to understand the way I am, and give me adequate space. Most of the time.
This morning I woke up to the power being out. "Holy Mother of God," I thought to myself, although fairly unreligious. "How the eff am I going to do this without coffee this morning?"
I should insert here that my baby boy got sick last night with a fever, and is super unhappy with everything that isn't a boob. I contemplated chewing on some coffee beans, or siphoning the dregs of Tegan's Coke zero bottle in the recycle bin as Isla walked into the kitchen.
"Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. DADDY!"
"what - my brain doesn't work very well right now baby, what do you need?"
"I want a waffle."
"Sorry sweetie, the power's out, I can get you some yogurt or cereal if..."
"WAFFLE! I WANT A WAFFLE!" She sounded like Zuul from Ghostbusters as she wailed in her Minnie Mouse underwear."
"There is NO POWER. The toaster DOES NOT WORK right now Isla, I can't make you a waffle."
At this point, Isla began screaming as loud as she could, which was immediately mimicked by Miles, who had just been completely happy putting his snot all over a watermelon. The only thing I could think of to do is send a complaint text to my wife Tegan to let her know how crappy my morning was. In true problem-solving fashion, she suggested I go to a coffee shop and get Isla a muffin or something, to which my horrible four year old was extremely amenable. So we went - out into the 99 degree weather at 9:15 AM.
Fast forward to back at home, AC on, cinnamon roll in Isla's hot little hand, Miles with yogurt in his tummy, I put my newfound coffee on the coffee table where it belongs, and go to the bathroom. At this point I hear a loud THUMP followed by: "sorry daddy, I'm sorry!"
To make the story short, Isla had decided to play with a broom while I peed, because that makes sense, then knocked my entire coffee onto the carpet.
So, to recap - I have no coffee in my system, I'm already a jerk because it's still morning, and now I have to spend the next 45 minutes trying to avoid the inevitable stain on the carpet from a capsized mocha. Somebody punch me in the neck fast.
Mornings are my least favorite time of the day. They always have been - I take about 2 hours to wake up completely, and am pretty much a jerk during the interim. Nothing makes sense to me, my coordination is all off, and I have a short temper. I basically age 40 years every time I wake up, then gradually get less curmudgeonly during the day. Now being as my kids have been living with me their entire short lives, they tend to understand the way I am, and give me adequate space. Most of the time.
This morning I woke up to the power being out. "Holy Mother of God," I thought to myself, although fairly unreligious. "How the eff am I going to do this without coffee this morning?"
I should insert here that my baby boy got sick last night with a fever, and is super unhappy with everything that isn't a boob. I contemplated chewing on some coffee beans, or siphoning the dregs of Tegan's Coke zero bottle in the recycle bin as Isla walked into the kitchen.
"Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. DADDY!"
"what - my brain doesn't work very well right now baby, what do you need?"
"I want a waffle."
"Sorry sweetie, the power's out, I can get you some yogurt or cereal if..."
"WAFFLE! I WANT A WAFFLE!" She sounded like Zuul from Ghostbusters as she wailed in her Minnie Mouse underwear."
"There is NO POWER. The toaster DOES NOT WORK right now Isla, I can't make you a waffle."
At this point, Isla began screaming as loud as she could, which was immediately mimicked by Miles, who had just been completely happy putting his snot all over a watermelon. The only thing I could think of to do is send a complaint text to my wife Tegan to let her know how crappy my morning was. In true problem-solving fashion, she suggested I go to a coffee shop and get Isla a muffin or something, to which my horrible four year old was extremely amenable. So we went - out into the 99 degree weather at 9:15 AM.
Fast forward to back at home, AC on, cinnamon roll in Isla's hot little hand, Miles with yogurt in his tummy, I put my newfound coffee on the coffee table where it belongs, and go to the bathroom. At this point I hear a loud THUMP followed by: "sorry daddy, I'm sorry!"
To make the story short, Isla had decided to play with a broom while I peed, because that makes sense, then knocked my entire coffee onto the carpet.
So, to recap - I have no coffee in my system, I'm already a jerk because it's still morning, and now I have to spend the next 45 minutes trying to avoid the inevitable stain on the carpet from a capsized mocha. Somebody punch me in the neck fast.
Year of writing 218. Stallions ride one more again.
8/5/12
Sunday marked the third installment of the Wild Stallions video dance party. These have become pretty successful, perhaps to the chagrin of the proprietor of the Jester who will have to pay us more than 75 stupid dollars to do it. This time we rocked it like always, with a slow beginning (people didn't show until 10:30 or so, and the set went late - and we had swag. I think there were 12 stenciled shirts we gave out at the last show - we didn't take any money for them, just threw them out for publicity - we had the bartenders rocking stallions swag, and all that.
I really really enjoy this new show - I hope that it can stand the test of time.
Sunday marked the third installment of the Wild Stallions video dance party. These have become pretty successful, perhaps to the chagrin of the proprietor of the Jester who will have to pay us more than 75 stupid dollars to do it. This time we rocked it like always, with a slow beginning (people didn't show until 10:30 or so, and the set went late - and we had swag. I think there were 12 stenciled shirts we gave out at the last show - we didn't take any money for them, just threw them out for publicity - we had the bartenders rocking stallions swag, and all that.
I really really enjoy this new show - I hope that it can stand the test of time.
year of writing 217. the best fish ever.
8/4/12
Date night FINALLY rolled around again this Saturday, and it seriously couldn't have come at a better time. I don't know what it is that has made me focus more intensely on my wife and the time I do get to spend with her, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that I don't have work and my mind has naturally found something to obsess about. I don't mind this at all.
We went to Suzanne's, a restaurant in town that we've gone to once before. It had pretty good food and excellent dessert the first time we went - this time, I ate the best goddamn fish I've ever had. Ever. It was sashimi grade Ahi tuna, seared and super super raw in the middle. It was on a bed of rice and arugula, and had a soy ginger dipping sauce. It was topped with jalepenos and candied ginger. I am having mini wet dreams thinking about it. Then for dessert we got some flourless chocolate cake with candied sour cherries and ice cream. Imagine the best treat you've ever eaten. This is better. I don't care.
Tegan has promised that we can do this once a month. I'm a slave to her whims at this point, so it's all golden to me.
Date night FINALLY rolled around again this Saturday, and it seriously couldn't have come at a better time. I don't know what it is that has made me focus more intensely on my wife and the time I do get to spend with her, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that I don't have work and my mind has naturally found something to obsess about. I don't mind this at all.
We went to Suzanne's, a restaurant in town that we've gone to once before. It had pretty good food and excellent dessert the first time we went - this time, I ate the best goddamn fish I've ever had. Ever. It was sashimi grade Ahi tuna, seared and super super raw in the middle. It was on a bed of rice and arugula, and had a soy ginger dipping sauce. It was topped with jalepenos and candied ginger. I am having mini wet dreams thinking about it. Then for dessert we got some flourless chocolate cake with candied sour cherries and ice cream. Imagine the best treat you've ever eaten. This is better. I don't care.
Tegan has promised that we can do this once a month. I'm a slave to her whims at this point, so it's all golden to me.
Friday, August 3, 2012
year of writing 216. Weekly wrap up
8/3/12
Time once again to return to my Friday reflection on being a stay at home dad. Here are some things I've learned, been mad at, and cried in shame for.
1 - When a baby looks like they have nothing in their mouth, they have something definitely chokeable in there. When they look like they do have something in their mouth, it's usually 6 rocks and a lego.
2 - When a four year old asks you to read a book with her, stop being stressed out, forget about whatever chore was about to be done, and take a couple minutes to read a book. It's called "Zombie in Love" for God's sake.
3 - Baby yogurt is SO much more delicious than adult yogurt. Buy double.
4 - TV is an easy out for a nap, so you can poop, whatever - but you will pay a million fold in crazy kid once you take that TV away. I swear, it's like my daughter forgets she has bodily functions while that machine is on, and when it's switched off she has to pee, she's tired, hungry, mad, her eyes hurt, and she lets me know at top volume.
5 - I would pay somebody ridiculous amounts of money if they would make my coffee for me in the morning. Also, my children would probably chip in if it meant I wasn't completely unresponsive until caffeine sets in.
6 - No matter how convincing she is, your daughter should not be allowed to eat just butter for dinner. It's probably bad. Probably.
Time once again to return to my Friday reflection on being a stay at home dad. Here are some things I've learned, been mad at, and cried in shame for.
1 - When a baby looks like they have nothing in their mouth, they have something definitely chokeable in there. When they look like they do have something in their mouth, it's usually 6 rocks and a lego.
2 - When a four year old asks you to read a book with her, stop being stressed out, forget about whatever chore was about to be done, and take a couple minutes to read a book. It's called "Zombie in Love" for God's sake.
3 - Baby yogurt is SO much more delicious than adult yogurt. Buy double.
4 - TV is an easy out for a nap, so you can poop, whatever - but you will pay a million fold in crazy kid once you take that TV away. I swear, it's like my daughter forgets she has bodily functions while that machine is on, and when it's switched off she has to pee, she's tired, hungry, mad, her eyes hurt, and she lets me know at top volume.
5 - I would pay somebody ridiculous amounts of money if they would make my coffee for me in the morning. Also, my children would probably chip in if it meant I wasn't completely unresponsive until caffeine sets in.
6 - No matter how convincing she is, your daughter should not be allowed to eat just butter for dinner. It's probably bad. Probably.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
year of writing 215. Dentists... psych!
8/2/12
I think I might have mentioned before that I like going to the dentist about as much as I like eating cockroach cereal, or stubbing my toe on the metal foot of the bed in the middle of the night. I don't know what it is, something about having to sit there with my mouth open and things stuck into it for an hour or so freaks me the hell out. So, I sort of have to psych myself up - I brush my teeth & floss better than I ever have in my life right before going to the office, plus chew a piece of gum on the way there. I wait in my car until 3:02 when the appointment is at 3, listening to Eye of the Tiger and We are the Champions. Then, I step inside the office, greeted by the smell of flouride and drills, grit my teeth and say, "Aaron Gardner, I have an appointment."
"No you don't," says the receptionist - "it's tomorrow."
My heart leaps with excitement momentarily, until I realize this means I will have to repeat the whole outrageous process again tomorrow. Crap.
I think I might have mentioned before that I like going to the dentist about as much as I like eating cockroach cereal, or stubbing my toe on the metal foot of the bed in the middle of the night. I don't know what it is, something about having to sit there with my mouth open and things stuck into it for an hour or so freaks me the hell out. So, I sort of have to psych myself up - I brush my teeth & floss better than I ever have in my life right before going to the office, plus chew a piece of gum on the way there. I wait in my car until 3:02 when the appointment is at 3, listening to Eye of the Tiger and We are the Champions. Then, I step inside the office, greeted by the smell of flouride and drills, grit my teeth and say, "Aaron Gardner, I have an appointment."
"No you don't," says the receptionist - "it's tomorrow."
My heart leaps with excitement momentarily, until I realize this means I will have to repeat the whole outrageous process again tomorrow. Crap.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Year of writing 214. Cercyon.
Cercyon
This roadside dust,
trampled and bloody -
this is my kingdom.
These arms, hardened steel,
have crushed life
from all who accept my challenge.
All this is yours! I shout
in the broken faces of men
at my feet; their eyes, lifeless.
They are my father's eyes,
each of them, liquid like his realm,
all tempest put to rest at my hand.
I will put them down
one by one, smash and ruin
until this false god of water
lies drowned in the blood
of these offerings. Or perhaps
until my own life flows,
red rivers spiderwebbing into
the dust. Let it evaporate quickly then,
let the moisture be gone.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cercyon
This roadside dust,
trampled and bloody -
this is my kingdom.
These arms, hardened steel,
have crushed life
from all who accept my challenge.
All this is yours! I shout
in the broken faces of men
at my feet; their eyes, lifeless.
They are my father's eyes,
each of them, liquid like his realm,
all tempest put to rest at my hand.
I will put them down
one by one, smash and ruin
until this false god of water
lies drowned in the blood
of these offerings. Or perhaps
until my own life flows,
red rivers spiderwebbing into
the dust. Let it evaporate quickly then,
let the moisture be gone.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cercyon
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)