The Language of Walt.

If you ever want to know what your conversational and more specifically colloquial tendencies are hang around a 3 year old for a few months.  Connor and I have a new weekend ritual.  Either Saturday or Sunday after Nita and I have made our dinner list for the week, we go to the store, just the two of us. Nita stays with Josie.  We get a doughnut for him, a balloon with a sucker, and then the tries to convince me that he needs either another doughnut or some jellybeans for the rest of the shopping trip.  In any case I have now been informed, by him no less, that when he makes his request I say, “WHAAAAAAAAT?  (increasing in pitch all the way) That’s crazy talk.”  It was most glaringly brought to my attention Monday morning, while Connor was at the top of the stairs and said, “Daddy come here please.”  I told him that I had to get a cup of coffee first and I’d be right up.  Of course he replied, “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT????  That’s CraAAAAzy talk daddy.” Nita looked over the ledge at me like I had specifically taught him this for that moment.

Another thing that’s going on is my son is very smart and very sneaky.  My mother was watching a basketball game (yes that long ago) with him last year and every time they’d hit a jumper she’d say “swish.”  Every miss she’d say, “Sonso!” (Stupid in Spanish).  Now you would think we might have anticipated that this was going to happen.  But in our defense we thought that we were fine until he started with complex sentence structure.  (I can feel you laughing at me by the way). So what we learned was they are little sponges who more than likely are witnesses for the prosecution.  For example when he was around one year old, we used to jokingly say when something was broken or a process was not going well that it was STOOOPIT.  So what word are we trying to break from Connor’s vocabulary now?  You’ve got it.  But now, the sneaky part.  If you remember in the film Pinocchio, a bad man leads the little boys to pleasure island (think 1940s Disney, not Barney Frank).   In any case, once the man drops off the boys in the place that will turn them into donkeys he mumbles, “Stupid little boys.”  So Connor thinks he’s getting away with it when he says, “the bad man says, (and he whispers) ‘stupid little boys.’”  Then we break into our, “good boys don’t use that word” spiel.

Luckily whenever we’re having these discussions I look over and Josephine is intently listening and concentrating.  And no she’s not just pooping.  She’s paying attention, fool me once.

Speaking of Disney, we were outside last week and Connor decided he was going to climb a tree.  So he wanted to sand on something to reach the fork in the trunk.  It happened to be a fireplace flue we’d pulled out of the outdoor fireplace.  In any case Connor was about to stand on it and I mentioned that as soon as he got on his tippy toes he’d flip it over.  So I put the long part flat and then went to take Josephine to the play scape to get her in her little playhouse/slide.  Before I took 10 steps, I heard Connor say, “ants.” This is lower case on purpose, he said it like it was curious, not dangerous. I look back and see Connor’s hand on the ground.  Now it is not without precedent that Connor puts his hands in an ant pile.  He is not allergic (thank God) and somehow seems impervious to the pain.  And I mean I’ve brushed fire ants off of him that left big welts and he just stares at his hand.  Meanwhile daddy hates ants and ant bites.  Anyway, he says, “ants” and I do a jump turn and see him on the ground.  I run over to check and start instinctively brushing his hand and there’s nothing.  Then I look at the flue and it’s got several on it.  I start my visual inspection of Connor to see if he has any on him and then …..Bingo!  He’s got one in his mouth. I brushed it out and asked if it stung him and he said, “No daddy.  I’m Baloo the bear.” And then he starts singing the bare necessities.   My Jungle book boy.  Meanwhile Josie starts squealing and dancing to the song she’s heard one hundred times.

And Action!  Connor’s latest new thing is to assign each of us roles in his re-enactment of movies.  Then he directs us through the scene.  Two of his favorites are Shrek and Cars.  In Shrek 2, I’m Shrek and he’s donkey.  He repeatedly says, “Are we there yet, are we there yet” and I explain the meaning of “far far away.”  Mercifully we only have to do this one about five times in a row.  In scene two, Connor says, “you be Mater, and I’ll be lightning McQueen.”  This is when I have to go through and do the whole tractor tipping scene.  Actually during game 6 of the World Series, we had to push pause while Pete and I both got on the ground and acted like sleeping tractors.  Connor then honked at us and we pretended to wake up from our sleep and fall backwards.  We only had to do this twice because it was bed time.  Nita is frequently a Gabor cat from the Aristocats (if you know that was funny). 

Sunday night featured the Wizard of Oz.  Of course that meant that Nita had to cackle like a witch on Monday and chase Connor around while threatening me (scarecrow), “How about a little fire Scarecrow?!!!”  Last night we were outside listening to the crickets and pond frogs.  We had to be really quiet and just about two minutes in he whispered to me, “Dumbo, Dumbo DUMBO!!”  If you don’t know or remember, there was a scene in which Timothy the mouse went to the ringmaster while he was sleeping and tried to convince him that he was his conscience and that Dumbo should be the main act.  That boy remembers everything.  And I’m glad Connor and Josie love the classics.  I think part of it is it truly is one of the nostalgia items that truly continue to live up to its memory.  And as for the other reasons, I’ll just leave it at that for the moment.  Anything more would be… Crazy talk!

Tis the Season

Normally I have to get pretty creative to find a way to put the week in a story that is hopefully entertaining, clever, and maybe a little provocative.  This week was an explosion of activities, emotions, dos and don’ts.  A full on roller coaster!  I have a feeling that this portion of the calendar will always be huge for me.  Halloween is of course Oct. 31 and Connor is really getting into it.  Nita’s birthday is Nov. 2; Josie’s birthday is Nov 10, and Connor’s birthday is Nov 20.  Plus College football is in full swing, NFL is about 1/3 of the way in, and the World Series is on.  This year had the added drama of our “Dawg Bowl” which is the two largest factions of our golf club squaring up against each other in a three day Ryder cup event that boasts roughly 64 Matches.  Yep uniforms and everything.

This year’s dawg bowl had the 3 time champions (us) taking on the 2 time champions (them).  We were in our traditional red and they switched it up and threw some orange on their normal blue.  In any case we got smoked.  Worse (although mercifully the point didn’t make a difference in the total), I was up two holes with three to play.  Instead of playing smart (like a five iron down the middle and playing for an up and down par), I got cute and tried to put him away on 16.  So I pushed a 3 wood Out of Bounds off the tee, then hit it in the hazard on 17…you get the point.  I blew it/choked, just like the Rangers had done in game six the night before.  Then my wife and kids met me at the club for dinner.  We had a really nice dinner and I even took Connor home in my golf cart.  I then settled in for game 7 of the World Series. (Authors note: I could do five pages on just games 5 and 6, but will save those of you who never played or don’t care).

Really?!!  Are you kidding me?!!  Okay, so I’m 0-3 now.  Congrats to you Cardinals fans by the way. At least A&M has Mizzou at 11 am, so I can get my mind off the devastating loss of my Rangers blowing three saves… in the same game because no one in the Ranger bull pen can throw a clutch strike.  Aaaaaand the 14 point favorite Aggies again fail to hold a double digit lead.  And again we are out-played and out-coached.  EXPLETIVE!!! Okay, well at least we have a nice little Halloween party to go to.  Connor originally wanted to be the cowardly lion from the Wizard of Oz but then changed almost at the last minute to Shrek.  He wanted to be Puss in Boots and wanted Josie to be donkey.  So it was done.

We got our costumes and I think they came out pretty cute.  Connor had been practicing his swordplay all week and so far no one had been injured as of the writing of this blog.  Josie even got to wear her donkey costume early with her modeling debut at a local retirement center Halloween fashion show.  She was a hit.  So we head to the party on Saturday, there was a table of “kid” food out.  You know: juice, fruit, candy, cookies, and pretzels.  She also had pumpkin waffles, which I thought was a fun a pretty unique party snack.  Connor is never left alone with cookies.  He has a “problem” (think Tommy Boy) with having just one.  Kind of like a crack head with a new lighter and fist full of hundreds. Connor looked over his shoulder, glanced at me and quickly grabbed a cookie.  I said nothing.  He ate another, I walked over and said, “Okay buddy, that’s enough.”  Nita handed me Josie and said she’d take Connor.  Let’s just say that over the course of the next couple of hours, Connor ate Josie’s weight in cookies.  I finally told him absolutely no more.  I came out of the house with Josie and he had grabbed one final cookie when he thought I wasn’t looking and I said, “CONNOR.”  He threw it back in the bowl and took two steps back.  It was very funny.  Thank goodness Stacey had a trampoline, or he’d still be awake.  On a side note, the only advice you should give another parent is when it’s between telling them something or calling CPS.  If, let’s just say Connor is playing in the middle of the doorway and people are having to step over and around him, then he’s in the way.  If I ask him to please move and play somewhere else and you tell me to leave him alone he’s having fun, you’ll probably get one…and I mean ONE courteous non sarcastic reply and I can’t really promise a lack of sarcasm.  If my request that my son be courteous to other guests makes you feel bad, I’m okay with that.  I’m not interested in advice on how to make him less polite or courteous.  Okay, off my chest. Thanks.  By the way, and potentially last tangent, I do not transfer my frustration of adults and college kid's athletic ineptitude onto my children.  In all honesty sometimes I might be a little shorter with Nita than I should within five minutes of the game, okay an hour.  But never with the kids, I pray that they’ll embrace and love watching games with me until they pound the last nail.

Back to the games for a second, (yes I realize how obsessive this is starting to sound).  Usually after a win, I can settle in and see what else is on or just switch to another game.  When I have a devastating loss (much less four in a row, at this point), I have to turn off my phone, go outside, or do some chores.  It just so happens that I was able to do some daddy children time while Nita was getting Sunday dinner ready.  So I was outside pushing both kids on the swings and Connor wanted to give me a high five.  Josie is also doing some pretty fun mimicry right now. I look over and Josie has extended her hand to do the same.  I made a wolf man howl, Connor matched and not far behind was Josephine.  If Connor growls and we all look at Josie, she’ll growl as well.  Connor is also assigning roles for people to play in his pretend games.  He asked me to be a waffle last night.  So I held my hands up and just swayed.  He thought it was hilarious.  He then asked Nita to be a waffle, so of course, she was.  Both grandmothers were over for dinner to help pass out candy while we went trick-or-treating, so they too were asked to be “waffles.”  The crescendo was when we stopped, there was Josie, hands up, big smile and swaying.  I then said, “Josie, be a waffle!”  She threw her hands up and started swaying again.  We howled.  She is really becoming way more participative, sometimes too much for Connor’s taste. Connor still calls her Godzilla.  Because every time he’s playing with something that requires assembly of multiple pieces, she’ll be along shortly to destroy it.

Halloween had us all ready for some evening fun and our neighborhood, like during Christmas, goes all out.  By the way, of course the Cowboys lost to cap off the WORST sports week I’ve ever endured and that includes multiple broken bones, sprains, pulls, devastating losses, strike outs, walk offs, missed tackles, missed baskets, three-putts, and every other personal and team mess up I’ve been a part of in my four decades of sports play.  I’m not sure if it’s worse if you actually do the mess up or if you watch something completely out of your control and still tie yourself emotionally to it.  (This might be next week’s blog I think, about taking responsibility for your own happiness, not sure yet.  I’m not an unhappy person but good Lord can someone please finish a tackle, throw a strike, and catch a stinking football)?  In any case the back-to-back-to-back losses were devastating, thank God for my wife and kids and all the fun we had when I wasn’t tying my noose after each game.

Connor couldn’t wait to get rolling.  He was eyeing the candy in our own bowl and kept reaching for it.  We told him to wait that he’d get his own candy and his was in his spider bag.  He started very slowly asking to open just one piece.  We did.  After another two houses, he asked for another, “open it please, pleeeeeeaaaaseeeeee.”  We did.  By the end, he was trying to chew through the wrappers.  This boy was jacked up.  He was however, very polite and only forgot to say “trick or treat” twice.  On those occasions when prompted to say his part he said, “I want some candy.”  It was cuter than I’m making it sound, but we all had a great time.  He also had fun with all the displays and motion activated ghosts and zombies.  Last year he was a little skittish, this year he would see the ghost and say, “Daddy what does that one do?  Turn it on daddy.” Also, Nita told me he woke up this morning and said he “needed his spider bucket (candy bag)” if that tells you anything.

Lastly our nanny brought us a DVD called Scared Shrekless. It was the shrek gang dancing to the Thriller video.  It also gave us the excuse to show him the original thriller vid.  Still a classic!  Finally, and don’t worry this will be another blog, I know we’re over time here, while playing outside Sunday, our neighbor was mowing the lawn.  Connor said, “Daddy what’s he doing?”  I laughed, I’ve used a lawn service for about 10 or so years now so Connor has never seen daddy push a mower.  But those of you who count our friendship in decades know where I grew up and that I’ve done enough lawn mowing, wheelbarrow full of rocks carting, and well let’s just say it:  I was the Mexican labor for the family.  Again, another time.  Happy Halloween and God bless y’all.  I’d also like to extend a very Happy Birthday to my sweet wife Nita.  Now will someone please win a F*&^%$G ball game for me?

Friends and Family

As Nita was getting Josephine ready for bed and I was tickling Connor in to breathlessness last night, he managed to get out our little safe phrase.  “I need a break.”  While he was recovering, he said, “Daddy I love you.”  I said, “Connor I love you too, you know that right?”  He said, “Yes!”  I pushed, “How do you know Daddy loves you?”  He said, “Because you are my friend.” 

I know this is a relatively short lived phase of absolute adoration and dependence and of course I am REALLY enjoying it, but I also know it is my responsibility to see the bigger picture.  Nita and I had an argument/discussion the other day about consistency and discipline.  We’re also interviewing new nanny candidates. (I know, but Amy is moving to Dallas, I swear we’re not running them off.  In fact I think it’s the opposite.  We find the best women with tons of upside and potential, and eventually someone else sees what we saw in these lovely and talented ladies and they move on to bigger and better things. Some marry millionaires). In any case the question of discipline came up. 

As we discussed our philosophy on positive reinforcement I also had to bring up that in the end, we are the adults and it is our moral obligation to both our children and society to not raise bratty kids.  This brought up the discussion in question when I told Nita to stop letting Connor play with my tools.  Because: a) My time is so limited now, when I want squeeze in a quick project I want to know where all my stuff is and not waste 20 minutes looking for something that is no longer where I left it; b) Connor has a zillion toys, a huge yard, and hundreds of books; c) As Mick Jagger said, “you can’t always get what you want; and d) he needs to learn that there are some things that adults do, say, and drink that are not appropriate for children.  I told her it takes no effort to be friends with a toddler, you give them everything they want.  The great parents are the ones that have children to say yes sir and no ma’am.  They call you by your last name.  (I still call my parent’s friends by their last names and I’m 42).  They come when you call them, not when they are done playing.  Nita is a little less consistent on this. 

We have our different styles for sure, and I’m not saying I’m always right or perfect.  For example, when Nita is juggling both kids and trying to do a third task, she’s more inclined to let Connor just hold or play with something that has piqued his curiosity to placate him for the moment to finish her task.  I will happily put on a video and give him a snack or some milk and go about my task.  She thinks he’s watching too much T.V. and I don’t want him playing with my tools, salt, pepper, scissors, staplers, etc.  We’re getting there.

The point is, I have an easier time telling Connor “no” and I’m more inclined to spend more time attempting to help him understand that what he’s doing is not appropriate.  And I know how important it is to teach these life lessons early, build a strong foundation, and help build character.  Connor knows when he’s done something wrong and when I reinforce it he sometimes gets upset.  I try to help him understand what he did was wrong and why.  And he definitely knows my “having fun” voice and my “right now mister” voice.  He does not get confused with me.  And he still smiles and runs into my arms every time I come home from work or from a trip.  Discipline does not mean you don’t love your children, it means the opposite.  I firmly believe that children are looking for boundaries and once established are more comfortable.  They know the line, check to see if it’s moved occasionally, but in the end like knowing where the edge of the earth is.  I’ve had my share of dumb ass moments through the years and thank God there were no camera phones and red light cameras back in the day, but all in all I was a pretty good kid.  I never missed a curfew and never got arrested… okay, never indicted. ;)  But I knew my limits and I didn’t wonder if, I knew there were consequences if I crossed the line. (All you veteran parents out there rolling your eyes, I know it doesn’t get easier, but this is my blog and the kids are young.  We’ll see what happens in a few years)

When heading over to a friend’s house for Game 5 of the World Series, another friend and I were talking about the discipline thing.  He said that too many of the women he’s been dating lately are “friends” with their kids.  The kids are brats, they have no respect for the parent unless they are being given exactly what they want (sounds like some folks on a famous street in NY, but I digress).”  We then told a few stories about the impact moments in our lives from our fathers.  They both included very attention getting scenarios shall we say and the lessons were clearly never forgotten.  And my love for my father and he for his is untarnished.  I miss dad so much I can’t even stand it sometimes and he died in 1996.  He was far from easy on me and I remember very clearly on time when I told him he wasn’t my friend. The scene was by the car in front of the garage.  I wanted to do something and he wouldn’t let me.  I said he just wanted to control me. He said he was trying to be my friend.  Then I said he wasn’t my friend.  He said, “Someday you’ll regret saying that.  Your dumbass friends only care what they can get from you today, I care about your future and everything you’ll ever be. I’m teaching you to be a man. I’m more of a friend than you’ll ever know.”

He was right, I still hear that conversation and it haunts me.  I am preparing myself for when Connor says it to me, and of course I’ll deserve it.  I may not deserve it for the moment when it’s delivered, but definitely for past sins.  In any case, I loved hearing Connor tell me that I was his friend last night.  But I know my job is bigger than being a buddy to a toddler.  Connor, I care about your future and everything you’ll ever be.  I hope that I’m teaching you to be a man and I hope someday you know how much of a friend I really am.”  Unfortunately Josie is so damn cute she gets everything she wants, I hope she marries a rich guy or life is going to be pretty down-hill from here.

Authors note: Nita was/is mad at me for this post.  I want to make the point that I was not being critical of her style specifically, but rather state the lessons my father taught me are key to my strategy with Connor.  I have very fond memories of mom slipping me a $20 here and there although she wasn't necessarily doing me any favors.  We've all heard the term, "Wait 'til your father gets home."  It doesn't mean mommy is weak, it just means that daddy metes out the punishment.  I was also trying to say that our home has a discipline strategy while many others are a free-for-all.  We've all seen the results of the misguided individuals who can't ever seem to get their stuff straight.  There are also many examples of folks who had good upbringings and the kids still strayed, and of course the opposite where kids from a free-for-all home became wonderful success stories.  In any case, Nita is a great mom and a wonderful parent, we both very much believe in action consequence. 

Three “Children.”

In the movie Rockstar Matthew Glave (playing “Izzy’s" brother) starts poking Mark Wahlberg.  Mark jumps up and pounds him. In the movie Stepbrothers, Will Farrel and John C Reilly lie in bed and threaten each other repeatedly, and eventually Farrell tries to bury Reilly alive.  (While searching for quotes from this movie, I was laughing hysterically in my office.  People probably think I’m nuts). Also, my best friends have kids that are just a tad older than Connor and Josephine and I’ve witnessed the interactions and more than likely peered into our future.  So I was completely shocked when Nita came into my home office the other day and said, “I need the camera.”  I curiously followed her into Connor’s room and there was Connor sleeping, and Josie was finger in his face about to wake him up. 

I thought Nita was insane.  I figured Connor would either throw a short right or mule-kick her across the room.  I prepared myself for this and hoped for the best.  Luckily, all he did was follow his training twice!  How good is that?  We’ve been trying to teach him not to push or kick Josie, slap things out of her hand, or grab things away from her that are his.  Instead he is supposed to ask for our help and we’ll take care of the situation.  Don’t y’all worry about Connor’s future; this is about not beating on his sister. I don’t plan on raising Gandhi and he will get some MMA learnin’ later.  In any case he opened his eyes and Josie was reaching for his lovie and he said, “MaaaaaaaaaahhhM! I need you! Tell Josie NO!”  This, by the way, is much easier to fix than a mule-kick.  It was pretty cute, Josephine then crawled up on his little bed and was pretty sweet. She loves her some Connor right now.

Remember how I mentioned that I always have some sort of project going on?  Well, a few years ago (if you are on the Christmas list you remember the story about “two Mexicans and a few beers?”  Well, the huge outdoor fireplace we built was used about four times.  Each time (since by definition it’s cold and windy) the smoke would end up blowing into the house or at least stay under the patio and we’d have to run the fans to help it dissipate.  So it was too smokey to really have any functional value.  Also a couple of years ago, for Christmas we got mom some gas fireplace logs and a burner.  Now whenever she wants a fire, she just turns the key and poof, instant fire.  When she’s done, click, she’s done.  No muss, no fuss.  So I started thinking…why not an outdoor gas fire pit.  This also enabled us to channel our inner Tool time Tim and demolish the old fireplace.  We are now building the new fire pit.  I’m rigging up a couple of small propane tanks (we don’t have gas in our neighborhood and we live on rock and I’m not going to rent a jackhammer crew to bury a 500 gallon tank) to the pit for a similar feel.  Kind of like the fire pits at Steiner ranch steakhouse if you’ve been on the patio.  Lava Rocks, some embers, maybe some logs, still deciding what will go in the middle. 

The other major advantage of the fire pit versus fireplace, was now you can see the entire back yard including the play scape from both our security camera and the kitchen sink window.  The camera feature is awesome because I have a live feed to my smart phone.  When I’m traveling and on the road, I can still steal a few minutes by watching my kids playing outside.  It’s a pretty nice treat and always makes me smile.  The main reason for this story is once again, the bobcat had to make another visit.  Connor excitedly got to see the bobcat at work.  The guys left it overnight and of course Connor had to go play on it.  He had a big time and even brought over his little front loader to “help.”  The cutest part was when he was taking parts of the flagstone out of the bobcat’s bucket and putting into his little front loader to assist. 

Josie meanwhile was really doing us a favor.  She was enjoying all of the toys we bought Connor when he was one.  She loves playing on his little house/slide, loves his little car, and his Winnie the Pooh riding toy.  So much so that I’m wondering, “do I need to buy her presents?”  Can’t I just either re-wrap or just present her with Connor’s hand me down toys that he has outgrown?  I mean we really did go a little nuts with Connor and most of his things are still in great condition.  Am I a bad parent?  I mean sure some of the stuff is a little gender specific and Nita is talking about getting her some dolls and a baby, but the big stuff should be fine right?  Good, I thought so too.  Besides, in this economy… well you know. 

So the weather is turning just in time for the fire pit.  I envision a S’mores night in the near future, or maybe even a glass of wine under the stars after we get the kids to bed night.  Someone told Nita and me that our marriage was like a child.  We need to nurture and encourage that child as much as much as our own children.  It’s hard when you’re not sleeping through the night because one of the non-metaphorical children start crying, have night terrors, or are cutting teeth.  But we’re still trying to make some time for each other.  A friend told me once that there are periods of time where you hate your spouse while at the same time are lost in adoration with your children.  I thought he was out of his mind, but I’m sure all of you have had that moment(s) when you are completely out of patience, exhausted, and your spouse just says exactly what you don’t need or want to hear.  So I can see where he was coming from.  Then I thought about how our third (technically first) child reacted to its siblings.  Not quite a mule-kick, but there was definitely some pouting.  There were clearly times when it threw tantrums, felt jealous, envious, and needed attention.  And in all honesty we neglected it a little bit.  Luckily we were able to recognize it and get back on track.  I’m sure most if not all of you have gone through this.  No one ever said this was easy, but our rewards are huge.  I was swinging Connor in the swing set last night and just out of the blue he said, “Daddy, I love you.”  Didn’t ask for anything, wasn’t trying to manipulate me, just made a matter of fact statement.  How did I feel?!  So we’re all doing fine and doing our best to love and nurture all “three” of our kids.  That’s a metaphor mom, we are not pregnant.

Things that make us smile

This weekend was a fun fest for me.  I had a big Ryder cup style golf tournament which was mercifully rained out on Sunday (more on that later), a rock concert/festival, and an awesome daddy son day.  And it rained.  For the first time since gas cost a dollar, it rained in our neighborhood.  I mean a wash out, big puddle, soaking downpour.  It was awesome.

The golf tournament was going well and then I took off to San Antonio for my rock and roll experience.  Those of you who are FB friends, know some of this, but essentially I have been given a pretty neat gift.  That gift is named Omar Uresti and he’s my best friend.  One really cool part of being Omar’s friend is he gets amazing and frequent access to celebrities.  I still remember one time at a tournament in Pebble Beach, Clint Eastwood hosted a party for the golfers.  I was trying to explain to my wife Nita to act like you belonged “inside the ropes” and everyone will treat you like one of them.  We met and shook hands with Mr. Eastwood and she couldn’t even speak. I later caught her just staring at him.  It was pretty funny and I’m sure I’ll get in trouble for this.  However, isn’t it awesome when you find yourself in a situation where you are amazed as you were when we were a child? The smile either inward or outward of child-like wonder.

So the quick background here, ever heard of a movie called Rockstar?  In it a guy in a tribute band gets invited to replace the newly fired lead singer of this mega rock band.  Well in real life this happened to a guy named Tim Ripper Owens when he became the new lead singer for Judas Priest.  Tim is a golf fan as are a couple of guys from Judas Priest.  Omar’s caddy at the time was a comedian named Michael Collins who you may have seen doing the “caddies corner” or heard him on XM if you follow golf.  Anyway, super funny and sweet guy and a good caddy, in fact I even emceed his wedding (talk about pressure, Emceeing a comedian’s event?).  In any case, Mike knew Omar was a Priest fan and they were playing at a club in which he had done stand-up.  So he called to get passes (no one pays for anything at their level BTW).  They got in and as soon as JP found out Omar was in the club, gave him full backstage all-access.  They were as excited to meet him as he was to meet them.  Omar called his sponsor and had them send drivers and putters to all the guys.  Omar and Tim were now life-long friends.  Tim left the band and Rob Halford came back, and Tim has been working on other projects since.  In any case, he follows Omar at certain events, and Omar always goes to see him when he can. 

So Omar calls and said Tim was playing in San Antonio Saturday night with the Dio disciples. (Stick with me, this will get to parenting and kids).  We go and of course get back stage all access dressing room, tour bus, the whole shebang.  Meanwhile, I’m looking at my watch because: a) I’m an old fart now and I don’t usually stay up past 11; b) Nita and my cardiologist have me on weight watchers and every Michelob ultra is 3 points; c) I have a huge golf match in the morning; and d) we still have to drive back home and I live another 30 minutes North West of Omar.  So after the show, Tim says, “Wendy is taking us all to dinner.”  He meant Wendy Dio as in Ronnie James Dio’s wife.  So we all go to dinner.  The nice thing is once you are inside the ropes with these folks, they are as nice and sweet as can be.  Just real people.  We told stories about our kids, about traveling, golf, concerts, cities, food, diets, you name it.  It really was a great time.  Then we loaded up and headed to Omar’s house, and we got there around 1 AM, maybe later.  I just slept in the spare room. My sleep was the sleep of the innocent.

The next morning I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed home in the downpour.  I called for my tee time and the match was suspended.  THANK GOD!!!  As I got home the kids were up and happy to see me and me to see them.  So I said, “Connor, do you want to go in the golf cart and get wet and maybe play in some puddles?”  DUH!!!  So we changed clothes and off we went.  We jumped in puddles and splashed and just had a big time. Then we drove by a Halloween shop.  He said, “let’s go in there daddy.”  Well we were in no condition to do it, so we went back home, dried off, cleaned up and headed to the Halloween store. 

Now I don’t remember getting the memo that Halloween now equals motion sensitive zombies at 150 bucks a pop, but there are a LOT of choices for that.  Luckily Connor only wanted a 4 foot cobra snake.  And Connor did pretty well.  He only wanted me to hold him once and he was fascinated by the spiders, rats, and snakes (all boy that kid).  Well, we got home and he wanted to go outside again.  So we went to play, in the mud.  You do remember his affinity for mud right?  Well the rain and the fact that our crew had not shown up with the grass in three weeks left a really nice wet trench that was extra sticky.  Connor got his front loader and got after it.  His face could not contain his smile.  He had so much fun it was amazing.  My amazingly awesome wife suggested that I take a nap while Connor napped.  I smiled, hugged and kissed her, and of course accepted.

The next day (Columbus Day), Nita had arranged a neighborhood play date.  She asked me about whether or not to cancel.  I recommended that she advise the parents to bring a change of clothes, a towel, and be prepared to be hosed down.  Those kids played with all the toys and everything we have.  Not Connor, he went straight for the mud.  And eventually so did all the kids.  They had a blast. 

So yesterday, my guys showed up with some grass.  And they finally covered the dirt, so we could have a yard again.  And the first question Nita asked me (now she has been on my butt for a month about getting grass, because she can’t keep the house clean with Connor in the mud all the time) was, “Do you think we could get some more dirt delivered?  Connor loves it!” 

Finally, my mom turned 76 yesterday (October 11).  I emailed and posted a request to some friends to reach out to her and wish her a happy birthday.  I decided to limit it to people that had met mom and whom she had more than likely either housed, helped or fed at some time in my life.  And four decades of my friends, family, and former teammates reached out to her.  It absolutely made her day.  She couldn’t stop smiling.  There is something about watching your kids, your wife, your mom, and even yourself get that smile that just can’t be removed.  It’s the smile that makes you happy with all the little things that keep you warm.  The one that is infectious for happy people, and best of all, the one that really pisses off miserable people.  God bless.

New skillz

Some of my fondest memories are grilling steaks and cooking fish outside with my dad on both our grill and the “disco” (pronounced [dees koe].  The disco for you Mexi-can’ts, is basically an old tractor plow disk, with another disk underneath welded to it with a stand.  So essentially it’s kind of like a wok, but with tractor parts and you put wood in the lower level.  You have a really hot center and a less hot outer ring.  In any case, we used to have some pretty mean fish fries in that bad boy, while we had fajitas going on the grill.  We smoked a lot of meats and really had fun with it.  Also, mom knew her way around the kitchen as many of you know.  For years I thought chicharrones were the most special part of the dinner.  Mom would carve off the fat with just a hint of meat, and cook it up (to season the pan I found out later), then salt it and put it in a corn tortilla for me…I was in heaven. I couldn’t understand why she gave the rest to the dogs. 

My love for cooking carried me through college when my first year at Texas A&M was spent in an off campus apartment without a meal plan.  I cooked most of my own meals and luckily mom and dad gave me a pretty good base.  Then when I bought my first house, I used to have “fill the grill” Sundays which many of you also know about.  I’d smoke a brisket, or some ribs, make a steak or two and usually put a beer butt chicken out there just for fun.  Friends would just show up on Sundays, (imagine that), and we’d watch football then movies, and I’d still have food for the week.  And my dogs Shiner and Rio would eat like royalty. 

When I married Nita, I did a lot of the cooking early on, but at the time I was on the Atkins diet.  This diet does not sit well with Italians.  No bread, no pasta, no starches, sugarless dessert, November Foxtrot Whiskey.  Nita decided she was taking over in the kitchen.  As many of you know I gained a zillion pounds, but that’s not the point of this. 

Connor LOVES being around us in the kitchen.  He is also just shy of three years old and is in that very want-to-be-helpful mode.  If you remember the blog two weeks ago, shake and bake baby.  Nita has been allowing him to help with a few things here and there, and our new nanny is doing a “Thursday cook day.”  Three weeks ago they made cookies.  Two weeks ago was mini-biscuit pizzas.  Yesterday Nita unveiled the new utensil of the month.  Yes the Williams Sonoma train cake pan.  And Yes Connor helped.  My favorite part of asking Nita how it went was, “How did it go, honey?”

“It went great, but we’re out of eggs.”

“Really, how many eggs did it call for?”

“We used seven eggs.”

“The recipe called for seven eggs, or you ended up using seven eggs.”

“We’re out of eggs.  Connor kind of…, we’re out of eggs.”

“Okay, good tip.  I’ll put it on the list.”

Connor had a blast, and the cake came out great.  We’re thinking that this might end up being his birthday cake.  You know how that boy loves Trains right?

Josie is also developing her skills.  In addition to Connor’s play scape on the pea gravel we moved Josie’s little playhouse/slide there as well.  She LOVES playing on it.  She can climb up the slide, stand up in the playhouse and even slide down the slide with a little help.  And as most of you veteran parents already know, she’s quite the daredevil.  She wants to do everything that big brother does. She has quite a little grip and is very proficient with the sippy cup. She also is at the stage where she has decided which books (so far) are her favorites.  She’ll grab them and then crawl them over to me or Nita for us to read them to her.  I can’t believe she’ll be a year old in a month.  The time is screaming by.  And I am continually amazed at both of their new interests, words learned, tendencies, and skills they pick up every day.

How to defend the fast break

It was inevitable I suppose.  Connor has been running around the house like a lunatic for a while now and little Josie was content crawling up to something and cruising.  She also likes to be held and loves attention.  She also loves whatever Connor has in his hands at the time.  Actually a pretty funny example of sibling jealousy happened the other day.  We have this little puzzle box that has two 9-piece puzzles in it.  Connor was putting one of them together and Josephine crawled over to see and start grabbing pieces.  Nita was downstairs putting her contacts in or doing laundry, or something.  I was by myself.  Anyway, Connor was saying, “No Josie, No!”  So I gave Josephine the other puzzle, which became immediately more interesting to Connor.  He abandoned his puzzle and reached for hers.  So I allowed the switch.  And Connor was happy he had Josie’s puzzle and Josie was happy she had his puzzle…for about three seconds.  Then they looked at each other, looked at the puzzles, and wanted to switch again.  This went on four times.  I just laughed as I kept switching the puzzles, it could have gone on for half an hour.  I know it was kind of cruel, like the puppy or cat with the laser pointer type cruel, but funny and no one was injured in the filming of this episode.

Josie loves being around Connor and Connor recognizes he has mobility as his main asset.  So Josie starts coming and he takes off running.  She giggles and tries to follow.  The problem is, now I have to pick my favorite, because Josie can now climb up the stairs…all of them.  And Connor usually makes a break for the refrigerator, the scissor drawer, or to the bathroom where he is trying to set a record for soft soap pumping before being caught.  The upside is his hands (and our floor) are really clean and smell wonderful.  I had to change the French door handles to round knobs with safety knobs or outside would be the escape route of choice.  This is usually pretty manageable because we have a baby corral (which Josie will sometimes use) and Connor will usually obey as long as his little attention span will allow. 

Recently, while mommy was out doing something and I had both, I had the double diaper whammy.  Two curve balls in a row! For those of you who are lost, when calling for a curve ball you drop two fingers. You know a deuce, number two, a bear who likes honey.  Okay, we’re all caught up.  So I go to change Josie first, no problem.  Connor can play trains in the living room.  But this time he doesn’t.  He sprints out of the room just as I open Josephine’s ode to blueberries.  I’m calling for him and Josie who’s trying to say words is babbling attempting to mimic me.  So I get her cleaned up, re-dressed, and I go wash my hands.  I should have waited.  Connor has pumped half a bottle of soap on himself and the bathroom floor mat.  He smells of great tea and aloe…and poop.

We get Connor to the changing table (which used to be my study, but I won’t get into how much real estate I’ve lost in the house) and I put Josie in the middle of the floor.  I’m thinking she’ll be fascinated watching brother like always.  Nope.  She breaks for the entry way.  I figure, she’s going to the formerly formal living room which is now a play room.  (By the way, anyone want to buy an Edgar Kelly rug with blue Crayola marker on it?) Then I hear the familiar fump fump fump of her hands and knees working the stairs.  Shit, literally.  I just started the cleaning process.  So I beg Connor, “Connor please do NOT move, daddy will be back in 10 seconds.  Can you please count to ten?”  He says, “Yes daddy” and starts counting.  My boy.  I go around the corner and there is Josie on the fifth step. 

For all of you at home thinking, “Why don’t you just put a baby gate at the bottom of the stairs?”  Well, we bought our home from crazy people who did a custom build.  The spiral staircase is uniquely angled, unsafe, and wide.  I’ve tried every off the shelf baby gate and it won’t fit.  I’m in the process of planning to build my own out of a wrought iron gate section with spring hinges, but who has the time? Luckily we put hardwood on both the stairs and the entry way, so there’s no padding either.  Anyway, Josie is five steps up and I grab her with my wrists and forearms and put her back in the study.  Connor has just gotten to nine.  So I go to finish the job and Josie sets off again.  Now I’m pretty fast on the diaper changes, I mean NASCAR pit crew fast, I mean Guido from Cars fast.  But this was a, without going into overly graphic details a multi-wipe-lots-of-surface-area change.  He must have had peanut butter and mango for lunch.  In any case, Josie is off again. 

I finish off Connor, pick up Josie with my forearms again and bring her to the bathroom.  I wash my hands and.… where’s Connor.  He’s in the freezer looking for ice cream.  That boy!  So I get them both upstairs and we play trains for a little bit.  By play trains I mean Connor plays trains and builds complex bridges, tunnels and stations. Josephine does her best Godzilla and destroys the tracks and bridges he’s built.  Then mercifully Nita comes home and I can go to man cave and take a break and watch some football.  Seriously, how do you moms do it all day every day?  And some of you with three and four kids?  Apathy must enter the game somewhere and I don’t mean that as a criticism, I mean it as a reality for maintaining sanity.  I was talking to a buddy the other day and I think our athletic backgrounds actually hurt us.  It’s harder for us to relax and enjoy the kids playing. We’re always looking for the danger, anticipating the kids’ next move, the next object of potential disaster and trying to head off that danger. It’s exhausting!  I just don’t want them to end up on a Darwin award list.  So Nita and I are done.  No more kids.  Right now we can play man to man defense and occasionally defend the 2 on 1 break.  But I can’t see us playing a three on two zone or worse the three on one fast break, talk about picking the favorite.  Besides, we can’t afford the soap.