Sunday, July 06, 2008
A Fort Hood Fourth of July!
On the Fourth of July, Erin and the girls and I went on Fort Hood to see the fireworks. I work on Fort Hood so it really is no difficulty for us to get on Fort Hood. In addition to the fireworks, they also had tanks that you could go inside of and a whole festival going on. It would have been too difficult to go on a tour of the tanks with the girls in tow, so we skipped that and the festival and just watched the fireworks.
The fireworks show was awesome! We kept seeing fireworks displays that would have been the grand finale anywhere else but were just part of the show on Fort Hood. Trust the Army to know how to blow stuff up!
The fireworks show was awesome! We kept seeing fireworks displays that would have been the grand finale anywhere else but were just part of the show on Fort Hood. Trust the Army to know how to blow stuff up!
Sunday, June 08, 2008
The Control Freak
Yes, I am a control freak. I enjoy being the boss at work. I would imagine that I enjoy being the boss at work so much because I never get to be the boss at home. I live in a house with 3 females.
Before you start to pity me, please keep in mind that I am fine with my wife being in control at home. My wife is a stay at home mom and she is good at it. Therefore, this is her office. I would be really annoyed if she came up to the hospital and started rearranging the stuff on MY desk, therefore I understand how she must feel to see my classy-looking shirts, ties, and slacks laying on the floor after a draining white collar day. I get it and try to change my actions to meet her needs.
One thing I may never get used to is the control my two daughters exercise over me. You might be thinking…they’re 4 and 2, how much control do they really have. If you’re asking that, then you must have two fewer children than I. For example, you’re laying in bed and you hear a blood-curdling scream echoing through the house from the girls’ bedroom. You sprint from the master bedroom, through the kitchen, the living room, the hallway, and into the room your daughters sleep in to find the older one throwing a hissy fit because she cannot find the rock she likes to sleep with.
That’s right. I said, “Rock!”
How much control do you really have in that situation? Ninety-percent of the time it’s crap like that but it’s that one time that you ignore the screams that could cause the sick or dead kid. Regardless of whether you think the kid is choking on something or she dropped her stupid rock, you still have to sprint to her bedroom and verify. So, who’s in control? She is. I guarantee she wouldn’t come check on me if I let out a blood-curdling scream.
So, the point of that observation is to share a quick story with you. A few weeks ago, my daughter wanted me to play dollies with her. Did I mention that I am a man? If we could play Uzi-wielding dollies versus Nazis, I could do that! But no…it turned out to be dollies versus Caleb’s love for life. Ugh. I tried to play with her and it was tough…until…I saw the Duplo blocks.
The girls have these huge lego things that I thought might just save the day. I said, “Watch what I can do, Gracie,” and I quickly built Angus (her Cabbage Patch Kid) a supersuit out of Duplo blocks. I wanted him to be Iron Angus but my daughter prefers the name Super Angus. Now, that’s how Daddies play dollies!
So, a few weeks later they got bored of him and they wanted Angus back, so they cracked open his supersuit like a walnut and extricated him. After a week of Angus not being super anymore, Gracie requested that I build Angus a new supersuit. I was thrilled because I knew it was either that or change Angus’s pretend diaper and feed him.
As I was building his new supersuit, something horrible happened… Gracie started helping me and trying to take charge! I was so enjoying being in control and seeing Gracie sit back and let me take control. All of a sudden, she wanted to be in control… No! I know it’s a bit immature, but I just didn’t want to share my toys. I tried to divert Gracie to other activities but that wouldn’t work. Finally, there was only one solution left. In desperation, I said “Gracie, What’s that behind you?” Gracie turned to look and when she did, I knocked Angus in his new supersuit off of the table. Blocks went everywhere.
Gracie’s head whipped around and her eyes got big. I said, “Oh no, he fell off of the table and broke.” You, the reader, will notice that I never said it was an accident. I didn’t lie once. She immediately wanted to rebuild him. I said, “I am so tired now, let’s start getting ready for bed.”
Gracie is still asking when we will rebuild Super Angus. I keep telling her that we will someday. What I don't tell her is that I have a very broad definition of what "someday" means.
I am in control again, for now...
Before you start to pity me, please keep in mind that I am fine with my wife being in control at home. My wife is a stay at home mom and she is good at it. Therefore, this is her office. I would be really annoyed if she came up to the hospital and started rearranging the stuff on MY desk, therefore I understand how she must feel to see my classy-looking shirts, ties, and slacks laying on the floor after a draining white collar day. I get it and try to change my actions to meet her needs.
One thing I may never get used to is the control my two daughters exercise over me. You might be thinking…they’re 4 and 2, how much control do they really have. If you’re asking that, then you must have two fewer children than I. For example, you’re laying in bed and you hear a blood-curdling scream echoing through the house from the girls’ bedroom. You sprint from the master bedroom, through the kitchen, the living room, the hallway, and into the room your daughters sleep in to find the older one throwing a hissy fit because she cannot find the rock she likes to sleep with.
That’s right. I said, “Rock!”
How much control do you really have in that situation? Ninety-percent of the time it’s crap like that but it’s that one time that you ignore the screams that could cause the sick or dead kid. Regardless of whether you think the kid is choking on something or she dropped her stupid rock, you still have to sprint to her bedroom and verify. So, who’s in control? She is. I guarantee she wouldn’t come check on me if I let out a blood-curdling scream.
So, the point of that observation is to share a quick story with you. A few weeks ago, my daughter wanted me to play dollies with her. Did I mention that I am a man? If we could play Uzi-wielding dollies versus Nazis, I could do that! But no…it turned out to be dollies versus Caleb’s love for life. Ugh. I tried to play with her and it was tough…until…I saw the Duplo blocks.
The girls have these huge lego things that I thought might just save the day. I said, “Watch what I can do, Gracie,” and I quickly built Angus (her Cabbage Patch Kid) a supersuit out of Duplo blocks. I wanted him to be Iron Angus but my daughter prefers the name Super Angus. Now, that’s how Daddies play dollies!
So, a few weeks later they got bored of him and they wanted Angus back, so they cracked open his supersuit like a walnut and extricated him. After a week of Angus not being super anymore, Gracie requested that I build Angus a new supersuit. I was thrilled because I knew it was either that or change Angus’s pretend diaper and feed him.
As I was building his new supersuit, something horrible happened… Gracie started helping me and trying to take charge! I was so enjoying being in control and seeing Gracie sit back and let me take control. All of a sudden, she wanted to be in control… No! I know it’s a bit immature, but I just didn’t want to share my toys. I tried to divert Gracie to other activities but that wouldn’t work. Finally, there was only one solution left. In desperation, I said “Gracie, What’s that behind you?” Gracie turned to look and when she did, I knocked Angus in his new supersuit off of the table. Blocks went everywhere.
Gracie’s head whipped around and her eyes got big. I said, “Oh no, he fell off of the table and broke.” You, the reader, will notice that I never said it was an accident. I didn’t lie once. She immediately wanted to rebuild him. I said, “I am so tired now, let’s start getting ready for bed.”
Gracie is still asking when we will rebuild Super Angus. I keep telling her that we will someday. What I don't tell her is that I have a very broad definition of what "someday" means.
I am in control again, for now...
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Caleb, Building Coordinator/Dead Animal Removal Rookie
I don't know if any of you out there in Blog Land know this, but I am the Building Coordinator for all of the wards (congregations) that meet in our Church building. You'll notice throughout this post that I am translating our Mormon-isms into terms that the general readership will understand. So, I have a two fold job.
1) I maintain the schedule of events for everything going on at the building. I give people approval to use this building on certain nights and keep events from conflicting.
2) I also assign 4 families from my Ward (Congregation) each week to take a turn cleaning the Church and I spend the early part of my Saturday morning at the Church making sure things get done. As an aside to my original story, you don't realize just how few members are active until you are the trying to find families to clean the building.
So, I was at the Church yesterday morning helping the families clean. We quickly realized that there was a foul stench in the air. The smell was nauseating and pervading the whole building. As the families started cleaning, I decided to track down the source of that smell. So, I followed my nose...it always knows.
My ultra-sensitive nose led me to room 109. A normal Sunday School classroom. I looked inside and didn't see anything. Like I said, this was a normal classroom not the Relief Society room (what we Mormon's call our Women's group), Young Women's room, Seminary room (classroom for the early morning class we have for our high school students), or Primary room (classroom where the little children meet on Sundays). If it had been one of those rooms, I might have had to do some digging. But every other classroom in our Church is pretty much what you see is what you get.
I sniffed the room and it was definitely where the smell was coming from. It smelled like a dead animal but I couldn't see the culprit. I figured the smell must be coming from the vents.
After the families finished, the Tolman's (one of the families that participated in the clean-up) and I decided to take another stab at finding the source of the stink. So, we went back to room 109 to take another look around. Still we saw nothing. In the room was an intake vent and return vent. I put my nose up to each in turn and neither of the vents smelled any worse than the rest of the room. So, I decided the smell must be in the ceiling.
I stacked some chairs to make an extremely wobbly step stool. I stepped up on it and pushed the ceiling tile out of the way. I stuck my head up into the ceiling. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but in the meantime I verified that the smell was indeed much stronger up there. After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I looked around me. I figured the dead animal was probably on top of some of the pink insulation up there. I checked it all and couldn't see it.
At that point, some movement on the ceiling tile directly in front of me caught my eye. I looked down at it and saw a dead opossum with maggots all over it. Such was my startlement that I made a none too graceful leap/stumble off of my precarious ladder.
I was so shaken it took me a moment to explain my finding to Angela Tolman (her husband had gone out to the car to do something). We decided that we needed to dispose of it so we walked to the Member Custodial Closet to get a trash bag. While we were there I looked for something to scoop the little bugger up with. I grabbed the dustpan from one of the brooms and we headed back to room 109.
I went back up my makeshift ladder while Angela got the trashbag ready. Over and over, I attempted to scoop the Opossum's little body into the dustpan. Over and over his little, maggot-filled body rolled and oozed out of the way of the dustpan. I wasn't able to get him into the dustpan but I was able to move him over by the edge of the ceiling tile and that gave me an idea.
I had Angela Tolman hold the trash bag up as high as she could by that edge of the ceiling. I picked up the other edge and tried to bounce the little creep off the tile and into the bag. That didn't work because now he was glued to the tile.
That was when Angela's husband, Wade, entered the room. He saw the opossum and saw what we were trying to do. He took the trash bag and put his hand in it like it was a glove. He reached up in the ceiling and grabbed the opossum and carried it out to the trash.
I'm so thankful we had a real man around.
1) I maintain the schedule of events for everything going on at the building. I give people approval to use this building on certain nights and keep events from conflicting.
2) I also assign 4 families from my Ward (Congregation) each week to take a turn cleaning the Church and I spend the early part of my Saturday morning at the Church making sure things get done. As an aside to my original story, you don't realize just how few members are active until you are the trying to find families to clean the building.
So, I was at the Church yesterday morning helping the families clean. We quickly realized that there was a foul stench in the air. The smell was nauseating and pervading the whole building. As the families started cleaning, I decided to track down the source of that smell. So, I followed my nose...it always knows.
My ultra-sensitive nose led me to room 109. A normal Sunday School classroom. I looked inside and didn't see anything. Like I said, this was a normal classroom not the Relief Society room (what we Mormon's call our Women's group), Young Women's room, Seminary room (classroom for the early morning class we have for our high school students), or Primary room (classroom where the little children meet on Sundays). If it had been one of those rooms, I might have had to do some digging. But every other classroom in our Church is pretty much what you see is what you get.
I sniffed the room and it was definitely where the smell was coming from. It smelled like a dead animal but I couldn't see the culprit. I figured the smell must be coming from the vents.
After the families finished, the Tolman's (one of the families that participated in the clean-up) and I decided to take another stab at finding the source of the stink. So, we went back to room 109 to take another look around. Still we saw nothing. In the room was an intake vent and return vent. I put my nose up to each in turn and neither of the vents smelled any worse than the rest of the room. So, I decided the smell must be in the ceiling.
I stacked some chairs to make an extremely wobbly step stool. I stepped up on it and pushed the ceiling tile out of the way. I stuck my head up into the ceiling. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but in the meantime I verified that the smell was indeed much stronger up there. After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I looked around me. I figured the dead animal was probably on top of some of the pink insulation up there. I checked it all and couldn't see it.
At that point, some movement on the ceiling tile directly in front of me caught my eye. I looked down at it and saw a dead opossum with maggots all over it. Such was my startlement that I made a none too graceful leap/stumble off of my precarious ladder.
I was so shaken it took me a moment to explain my finding to Angela Tolman (her husband had gone out to the car to do something). We decided that we needed to dispose of it so we walked to the Member Custodial Closet to get a trash bag. While we were there I looked for something to scoop the little bugger up with. I grabbed the dustpan from one of the brooms and we headed back to room 109.
I went back up my makeshift ladder while Angela got the trashbag ready. Over and over, I attempted to scoop the Opossum's little body into the dustpan. Over and over his little, maggot-filled body rolled and oozed out of the way of the dustpan. I wasn't able to get him into the dustpan but I was able to move him over by the edge of the ceiling tile and that gave me an idea.
I had Angela Tolman hold the trash bag up as high as she could by that edge of the ceiling. I picked up the other edge and tried to bounce the little creep off the tile and into the bag. That didn't work because now he was glued to the tile.
That was when Angela's husband, Wade, entered the room. He saw the opossum and saw what we were trying to do. He took the trash bag and put his hand in it like it was a glove. He reached up in the ceiling and grabbed the opossum and carried it out to the trash.
I'm so thankful we had a real man around.
Friday, July 13, 2007
What Dad had...and more!
So, my wife and children are in the living room playing while I make Manwich. Our Pug dog, Beijing, is chasing them around the living room.
Does all of this sound boring to you? If you answered "Yes", then you obviously don't live my life. You see, I travel for a living. I am one of those guys who catches a plane to work on Monday morning and then catches one home on Friday for the weekend. Then I rinse and repeat the next week.
Although this is better than when I was a contractor with the Department of Defense (I was home about 36 hours every other week), it gets old really quick.
I grew up in the home of a software programmer and a hospice nurse. Trust me...they were home every night. Although I've always dreamed of seeing the world, I also saw myself coming home from work at night and hearing "Daddy!" I guess I want what my Dad had...and more.
What's that country song, "When you're doing what you're able to put food out on the table. In the arms of the woman that you love, that's something to be proud of."
Does all of this sound boring to you? If you answered "Yes", then you obviously don't live my life. You see, I travel for a living. I am one of those guys who catches a plane to work on Monday morning and then catches one home on Friday for the weekend. Then I rinse and repeat the next week.
Although this is better than when I was a contractor with the Department of Defense (I was home about 36 hours every other week), it gets old really quick.
I grew up in the home of a software programmer and a hospice nurse. Trust me...they were home every night. Although I've always dreamed of seeing the world, I also saw myself coming home from work at night and hearing "Daddy!" I guess I want what my Dad had...and more.
What's that country song, "When you're doing what you're able to put food out on the table. In the arms of the woman that you love, that's something to be proud of."
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Caleb made a funny!
On the plane last Wednesday, I made a funny. I used to be a funny guy but not so much anymore. I just don't have the time to sit around thinking up whitty come backs.
So, everybody had boarded the plane and we were waiting for the doors to close. As we waited, it started to get very warm. We were all sitting there sweltering in the heat. Somebody yelled out, "Turn the air on!" The flight attendant explained to the man and the rest of us how the air will come on as soon as the pilot starts the engines.
So, I yelled out "Then can we open the windows or put the top down!"
That brought the house down!
So, everybody had boarded the plane and we were waiting for the doors to close. As we waited, it started to get very warm. We were all sitting there sweltering in the heat. Somebody yelled out, "Turn the air on!" The flight attendant explained to the man and the rest of us how the air will come on as soon as the pilot starts the engines.
So, I yelled out "Then can we open the windows or put the top down!"
That brought the house down!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
vlog 1
Sunday, October 29, 2006
What Matters Most
Yesterday, Erin and I took the girls to a Pumpkin Patch to find a little pumpkin for Eliza. We looked through all of the pumpkins and took pictures with them. We also got pictures of them in front of a scarecrow. We didn’t find a pumpkin for Eliza so we got Gracie a gourd instead to use as a maraca.
We went back to our house and ate lunch and Erin and I put the girls down for a nap.
After the nap, we got ourselves and the girls dressed in our Halloween costumes. Then we went up to the church for the Halloween party. Gracie got to play lots of games and jump around in the bounce house. We ate cupcakes and candy and were bestowed with an award for the best “Family” costumes. Erin and the girls were fairy princesses and I was the frog prince who they had unsuccessfully tried to return to human form by planting lots of kisses on.
This morning, I went into Gracie’s room to wake her up and she turned to me and said, “Daddy? Do you remember yesterday…when we laid in my bed and sang songs together?” I was absolutely blown away! We did several memorable things yesterday and the one that meant the most to her was when we were laying in her bed singing nursery songs.
What a sweet kid!
