Monday, June 29, 2009
More Backyard Fun
We've had the playhouse for a few months now, so these pictures are a wee bit old, but you get the idea! Grant grills us chicken sandwiches all the time! But, for Grant, the water tubs are the hit!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Where's my pillow mint?
This weekend, we've been hosting some old friends at our home. Prior to their arrival on Friday, Erin informed me that she was going to do some cleaning around the house in preparation.
When I arrived home from work on Friday, our house was spotless. I mean SPOTLESS. All of the toys were gone. There were fresh sheets on the beds, and they had all been made. On the guest beds, there were little pillows with soaps and shampoos in those little bottles, just like a hotel. There was a little dessert buffet on the island in the kitchen, featuring cookies and a bunch of other foo-foo crap that no self respecting dude would eat if there were other options. It was immaculate.
Apparently you can convert a Rodeway Inn into a Hyatt in just under eight hours.
When I arrived home from work on Friday, our house was spotless. I mean SPOTLESS. All of the toys were gone. There were fresh sheets on the beds, and they had all been made. On the guest beds, there were little pillows with soaps and shampoos in those little bottles, just like a hotel. There was a little dessert buffet on the island in the kitchen, featuring cookies and a bunch of other foo-foo crap that no self respecting dude would eat if there were other options. It was immaculate.
Apparently you can convert a Rodeway Inn into a Hyatt in just under eight hours.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Backyard Fun
How do we pass the summer days until little miss Grace shows up? A makeshift waterslide... that's how!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
More Grace Information
I just accosted the FedEx man who pulled up to hand me the package with two more pictures of Grace and all of her translated health and life information. The information is from her seven month check up, so we're not sure how much of it is still relevant.
A few notes from the information:
1. Grace is said to love music (Daddy grinned), laugh out loud and smile readily.
2. It said Grace was a "deep sleeper." Rock on.
3. It warned that Grace was obstinate. That's my girl.
4. Grace is very small. On the US growth charts, she's in about the 5th percentile for height and weight. She's a peanut. Grant weighed at three months what Grace weighed at about eight months.
4. We found out that Grace has been in foster care since she was a week old. This news is beautiful news. It's bittersweet in that we will be pulling Grace from the only family she has known, a family that she has bonded with and has bonded with her. But, we also know that Grace knows how to attach, a problem for many kids who are in an institutionalized setting like an orphanage. We are so thankful to this family, a family who has loved Grace through all these months, feeding her, changing her, waking up in the wee hours with her, and playing with her, all the while knowing that she would be leaving one day. It's a sacrifice we cannot comprehend or repay, but it is one for which we are exceptionally grateful.
We will get an updated medical history (including information about when and where Grace was left by birthparents) in a few weeks. We should get some new pictures then as well.
But, today, we received two new pictures (from when she was seven months old), and I could just die at how sweet and cute she is! She's bundled up in layers and layers of clothes (a Chinese custom that sometimes translates to up to nine layers of clothes on kids), but, despite the layers of clothes, you can still tell that she's just the sweetest little angel!
I don't know what's up with the grapes (or the fact that the "beach" picture has: 1. animated pigs and mushrooms and 2. Grace dressed up in layers of very "unbeachy" clothes), but come on, you know she's the cutest thing ever! That little double chin, the "what the heck is going on here" stare, and those polka-dot penguin booties are just about the cutest things I have ever seen.
A few notes from the information:
1. Grace is said to love music (Daddy grinned), laugh out loud and smile readily.
2. It said Grace was a "deep sleeper." Rock on.
3. It warned that Grace was obstinate. That's my girl.
4. Grace is very small. On the US growth charts, she's in about the 5th percentile for height and weight. She's a peanut. Grant weighed at three months what Grace weighed at about eight months.
4. We found out that Grace has been in foster care since she was a week old. This news is beautiful news. It's bittersweet in that we will be pulling Grace from the only family she has known, a family that she has bonded with and has bonded with her. But, we also know that Grace knows how to attach, a problem for many kids who are in an institutionalized setting like an orphanage. We are so thankful to this family, a family who has loved Grace through all these months, feeding her, changing her, waking up in the wee hours with her, and playing with her, all the while knowing that she would be leaving one day. It's a sacrifice we cannot comprehend or repay, but it is one for which we are exceptionally grateful.
We will get an updated medical history (including information about when and where Grace was left by birthparents) in a few weeks. We should get some new pictures then as well.
But, today, we received two new pictures (from when she was seven months old), and I could just die at how sweet and cute she is! She's bundled up in layers and layers of clothes (a Chinese custom that sometimes translates to up to nine layers of clothes on kids), but, despite the layers of clothes, you can still tell that she's just the sweetest little angel!
I don't know what's up with the grapes (or the fact that the "beach" picture has: 1. animated pigs and mushrooms and 2. Grace dressed up in layers of very "unbeachy" clothes), but come on, you know she's the cutest thing ever! That little double chin, the "what the heck is going on here" stare, and those polka-dot penguin booties are just about the cutest things I have ever seen.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Introducing
Grace MinWei Hawkins (pronounced min-way)
She is from Tonggu, a small village in the Jiangxi Provence of China. Her birthday was yesterday, June 21, so she's a year old.
And, here's the best part... her picture! This was taken back in January...
We are so thankful for all the love and support that many of you have given us over the years. We are thankful to our God who is the giver of such good gifts. We are in love beyond measure.
She is from Tonggu, a small village in the Jiangxi Provence of China. Her birthday was yesterday, June 21, so she's a year old.
And, here's the best part... her picture! This was taken back in January...
We are so thankful for all the love and support that many of you have given us over the years. We are thankful to our God who is the giver of such good gifts. We are in love beyond measure.
Not Funny
The phone just rang... and my heart stopped.
But, it was just card member services letting us know that we need to call them urgently as we might qualify for a lowered interest rate on our credit card.
But, it was just card member services letting us know that we need to call them urgently as we might qualify for a lowered interest rate on our credit card.
Ring, Phone, Ring
We're expecting our referral phone call (and subsequent email with pictures) today. Our agency should start making phone calls around noon our time (Eastern Standard). Bret is sick in bed with the flu, and Grant and I are just going to have to burn off some energy out of the house this morning; if I stay, all I will do is check the clock every two minutes.
If you're looking for pictures and information, start checking with us after noon.
If you're looking for pictures and information, start checking with us after noon.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Bittersweet
There are so many good things going on in our lives right now, so many reasons to be happy. Tomorrow, we expect to see Gracie's little face. We're so excited to see our little girl, to gather more information about her, and to share our joy with our friends and family who have been so supportive on this journey.
In addition, today is Fathers' Day, and Bret and I are both blessed with fathers who love us and are exceptionally generous to us and our little family. Bret, himself, is a father of substance, a father who cares deeply for Grant and Grace and shows them that love on a day-in-day-out basis.
But, with all of the happiness swirling around us, we received hard news yesterday. My grandmother passed away after a hard-fought battle with leukemia. She was almost 89 years old, and, thankfully, I was able to visit with her just a few weeks ago on my trip out west. My grandmother and I were very close, and I am thankful that I have many, many, many memories of the two of us together. She was the person who took care of me when I was sick and my mom had to head off to work. She was the person who knew my favorite blanket (the soft blue one), my favorite foods (vegetable beef soup and pancakes with peaches), my favorite way to eat ice cream (chocolate syrup mixed with chunky peanut butter), my favorite way to play (cutting out toys from the Best catalog). My grandmother's history is a fascinating one, growing up in the deep south, living at the New Llano colony during the depression, taking a long train ride out to Los Angeles, and marrying my grandfather after being "matched" together by my grandfather's sister. I'm thankful that my grandmother's history is interesting. I'm thankful that while growing up in California that we lived so close to her, as it means that I saw my grandmother weekly. I'm thankful for the many ways she was generous with me, the many ways she made me feel special. I'm thankful that she got to meet Grant and play with him several times in her last years. But more than anything, I am thankful that my grandmother was a woman of faith because it makes this moment, the moment where I miss her, so much easier. I know she's in a better place, a better place that's not just a figure of speech. I know she's at peace, and I have complete confidence that we'll meet again someday.
I'm thankful that my grandmother had an unwavering trust in Christ. And as much as I miss her, and will continue to do so in the months and years ahead, I'm thankful that she's gone home.
Here are a few pictures from my recent visits out west... I can just hear my grandmother scolding me for using pictures of her, pictures she would look at and ask, "Do I really look like that?"
In addition, today is Fathers' Day, and Bret and I are both blessed with fathers who love us and are exceptionally generous to us and our little family. Bret, himself, is a father of substance, a father who cares deeply for Grant and Grace and shows them that love on a day-in-day-out basis.
But, with all of the happiness swirling around us, we received hard news yesterday. My grandmother passed away after a hard-fought battle with leukemia. She was almost 89 years old, and, thankfully, I was able to visit with her just a few weeks ago on my trip out west. My grandmother and I were very close, and I am thankful that I have many, many, many memories of the two of us together. She was the person who took care of me when I was sick and my mom had to head off to work. She was the person who knew my favorite blanket (the soft blue one), my favorite foods (vegetable beef soup and pancakes with peaches), my favorite way to eat ice cream (chocolate syrup mixed with chunky peanut butter), my favorite way to play (cutting out toys from the Best catalog). My grandmother's history is a fascinating one, growing up in the deep south, living at the New Llano colony during the depression, taking a long train ride out to Los Angeles, and marrying my grandfather after being "matched" together by my grandfather's sister. I'm thankful that my grandmother's history is interesting. I'm thankful that while growing up in California that we lived so close to her, as it means that I saw my grandmother weekly. I'm thankful for the many ways she was generous with me, the many ways she made me feel special. I'm thankful that she got to meet Grant and play with him several times in her last years. But more than anything, I am thankful that my grandmother was a woman of faith because it makes this moment, the moment where I miss her, so much easier. I know she's in a better place, a better place that's not just a figure of speech. I know she's at peace, and I have complete confidence that we'll meet again someday.
I'm thankful that my grandmother had an unwavering trust in Christ. And as much as I miss her, and will continue to do so in the months and years ahead, I'm thankful that she's gone home.
Here are a few pictures from my recent visits out west... I can just hear my grandmother scolding me for using pictures of her, pictures she would look at and ask, "Do I really look like that?"
Friday, June 19, 2009
Grace
We should get our referral any hour now (with it being Friday, we might have to wait the weekend)! We're excited to see that little face; it's surreal that this four year journey is about to come to fruition. For our dear family and friends (and extended blog family), we'll be posting pictures and information the minute we are able to do so. Stay tuned!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
My not so fun morning
This morning, I had to convince Grant that the pantyliner he had found in my purse (which he had been wearing as a band aid all morning) was--indeed--not a band aid. There were tears as I pulled the pantyliner off his leg and threw it away in the trash.
Then, we went to an indoor play park (think McDonald's playland times ten [minus the dirt and discarded french fries]). Grant proceeded to climb up FOUR stories before he looked down, only to realize that one slip in that mesh netting could end in toddler death, and he started crying. After much coaxing (and finally sending a young girl up to help him), Grant came running toward me, just to fall, lip first, of course, and bust open his lip. After the blood, he proceeded to tell everyone that he "led with his lip."
Then, at Trader Joe's, I made the mistake of letting Grant push around the child-sized cart. Rookie mistake. Near the end our our trip, he bashed that cart right into a display of salsa. It wasn't good. At all. Let's just say there was glass (and plenty of salsa) in my shoes.
In other news, we should have information about Grace by next week (including her picture). We're so excited.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Job Security
A couple of days ago, I got a call from the resident Executive Assistant at our company asking what my title should be on my business cards. (My company is in the process of moving, therefore we all get new cards. They're great for jamming under the wobbly leg of a table at Denny's or throwing into a ceiling fan.)
Since I haven't known what my official title is in years, I told her I'd get back to her. I asked what my title was shown as on the official company org chart, and she informed me that my name was followed merely by a question mark, rather than a title. This is not good.
I'm no dummy, and I'm fully aware that being the question mark in a struggling economy can't be a good thing. My only hope is that somewhere in our office there sits a slightly less important exclamation point or even better, a frown... :(
I inquired with my boss to see what my title should be, and he told me to make something up. I thought about it for a few minutes, and after eliminating all deities and other blasphemous names, I came up with my selection. When I told the Exec. Assistant what I had decided on, she looked unimpressed. "Really? You don't want something longer?" Nope. This will do.
While I wait for my new cards to arrive (undoubtably with my first name featuring two "t's" instead of one) I need to get to the bottom of the question mark. I need to at least be a check mark to make it to Christmas.
Since I haven't known what my official title is in years, I told her I'd get back to her. I asked what my title was shown as on the official company org chart, and she informed me that my name was followed merely by a question mark, rather than a title. This is not good.
I'm no dummy, and I'm fully aware that being the question mark in a struggling economy can't be a good thing. My only hope is that somewhere in our office there sits a slightly less important exclamation point or even better, a frown... :(
I inquired with my boss to see what my title should be, and he told me to make something up. I thought about it for a few minutes, and after eliminating all deities and other blasphemous names, I came up with my selection. When I told the Exec. Assistant what I had decided on, she looked unimpressed. "Really? You don't want something longer?" Nope. This will do.
While I wait for my new cards to arrive (undoubtably with my first name featuring two "t's" instead of one) I need to get to the bottom of the question mark. I need to at least be a check mark to make it to Christmas.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Terror
As I was driving home from work today, it occurred to me that teaching Driver's Ed might just be the worst job on the planet.
Actually, I had this thought as a yellow car with a driving school billboard on the top began to pull out in front of me on a county road. I was driving, shall we say, above the speed for which the road was designed. Additionally, it was raining gently onto the blacktop, effectively quadrupling my stopping distance.
As I slammed on my brakes, I saw two things. First, I saw a clueless, high-school aged male with the glimmer of my Hyundai headlights in his eyes. And I saw, presumably, the clueless one's instructor slumped down in the seat next to him as if acting in a Zapruder sequel. The man had obviously assumed the "go limp" position which would insure the least bodily damage after befriending the hood of my car.
I can only imagine the feeling of shock, terror, and complete lack of control felt by the instructor. I can't fathom how someone could put themselves through this feeling on a daily basis. Perhaps Driver's Ed teachers are recruited at bungee jumping locations or other "extreme" sports venues. Perhaps these individuals actually ENJOY the adrenaline rush of nearly being killed on an hourly basis. Not me, man. I couldn't own enough pairs of underwear to do that job.
After I avoided the accident (thanks to my own good Driver's Ed instruction -- the subject of another blog post in the future), I considered how terrifying teaching me to drive had to be for my dad. I can't imagine trying to teach Grant to drive. When we put him in one of those battery operated Jeep's, he simply pushes the pedal to the floor and lets his arms hang loose. No steering. I'm in deep, deep trouble.
Actually, I had this thought as a yellow car with a driving school billboard on the top began to pull out in front of me on a county road. I was driving, shall we say, above the speed for which the road was designed. Additionally, it was raining gently onto the blacktop, effectively quadrupling my stopping distance.
As I slammed on my brakes, I saw two things. First, I saw a clueless, high-school aged male with the glimmer of my Hyundai headlights in his eyes. And I saw, presumably, the clueless one's instructor slumped down in the seat next to him as if acting in a Zapruder sequel. The man had obviously assumed the "go limp" position which would insure the least bodily damage after befriending the hood of my car.
I can only imagine the feeling of shock, terror, and complete lack of control felt by the instructor. I can't fathom how someone could put themselves through this feeling on a daily basis. Perhaps Driver's Ed teachers are recruited at bungee jumping locations or other "extreme" sports venues. Perhaps these individuals actually ENJOY the adrenaline rush of nearly being killed on an hourly basis. Not me, man. I couldn't own enough pairs of underwear to do that job.
After I avoided the accident (thanks to my own good Driver's Ed instruction -- the subject of another blog post in the future), I considered how terrifying teaching me to drive had to be for my dad. I can't imagine trying to teach Grant to drive. When we put him in one of those battery operated Jeep's, he simply pushes the pedal to the floor and lets his arms hang loose. No steering. I'm in deep, deep trouble.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Monday, June 08, 2009
Last Bathroom Post of the Week
This morning, we had an all-employee meeting to discuss my company's impending move to a new office facility. One of the downsides to our new digs is that the men's restroom features a single urinal and a single toilet. This is problematic for a NUMBER of reasons (mostly #2), but I'll save that for another blog.
Incidentally, the women's restroom features five toilets. Keep in mind that that is one toilet per woman at our company, versus one toilet for 25 guys in the men's room.
During the staff meeting, I put forth the idea that we swap the signs on the men's and women's restrooms, thus eliminating the shortage of toilets for the dudes. We could then put M&Ms in the feminine hygiene products dispenser and turn the urinal in the ladies room into a contest.
At least I laughed.
Incidentally, the women's restroom features five toilets. Keep in mind that that is one toilet per woman at our company, versus one toilet for 25 guys in the men's room.
During the staff meeting, I put forth the idea that we swap the signs on the men's and women's restrooms, thus eliminating the shortage of toilets for the dudes. We could then put M&Ms in the feminine hygiene products dispenser and turn the urinal in the ladies room into a contest.
At least I laughed.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
L.A. Wrap Up
On Sunday, we took Peter Pan's understudy (nee Grant) to Disneyland. Now you may be thinking, what two year old goes to BOTH Disneyland and Disney World within the same 6 month span? That would be an excellent question, and my only answer is GRANT.
As expected, he had a ridiculously good time. He got to ride on the Matterhorn, his first real roller coaster. And of course he got to ride many rides with NeNe (Erin's mom), which he loved.
Here's Grant sporting his "Honey, I Shrunk The Audience" 3-D glasses:
And here's Grant and me in the back car of a coaster...
I made two observations at Disneyland when comparing it to Disney World. First, the apparently "refurbed" Space Mountain at Disneyland is a VAST improvement on the one in Florida. It is MUCH darker than it's Disney World counterpart...far more exciting as a roller coaster. My other comment is that Disneyland's castle looks like a suburban home outfitted with turrets. It's tiny. I was pretty shocked when I saw it. Old Walt must have decided his studio apartment sized castle wasn't cutting it when he later built Disney World.
Here's Grant tuckered out in the rental car, post-Disney, with his favorite new appendage from Peter Pan:
On Monday, I dragged Erin around to some Los Angeles based Beach Boys sites. She was unimpressed. She apparently had no interest in seeing the house where Brian Wilson lay munching Animal Crackers in bed for several years or where Dennis Wilson hosted luaus with Charlie Manson. I guess we simply have different interests.
Next we headed over to the Santa Monica Pier to let Grant ride some more rides. The kid really is turning into a ride junkie. We bought him a pass to ride all of the little kid rides, and he had a blast. He kept the staff well entertained also.
Monday evening we had dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Santa Monica called Lares. I ordered a chicken dish in chipotle sauce which was indicated to be "very spicy." Having been lured by this before, only to find out it's "very spicy" if you think Taco Bell is "very spicy," I was shocked to discover that my meal was, indeed, freaking spicy. I couldn't feel my tongue or lips. I was drooling margarita onto my shirt it was so spicy. The flavor was excellent, but I almost couldn't keep it in my mouth long enough to enjoy it.
At the conclusion of our meal, our server came over, looked down at my plate with a big grin and said, "Not bad! Not bad!" I replied, "It bwas bewwy beweey gwood."
On Saturday we took a drive up the coast through Manhattan Beach and the world's largest "Say No To Drugs" display, better known as Venice Beach. Anyone who walks through Venice Beach and exits the other side thinking, "Man, I'd really be happier if I had a joint" is obviously not paying attention.
After Venice, we made our way to Tony P's for dinner in Marina Del Rey. As I looked out the window at all the boats, I noted to Erin that this was the exact set of docks where Dennis Wilson drowned. Having had enough Beach Boys trivia for a lifetime, she threatened to throw me overboard, so I kept my other facts to myself.
All in all, it was a nice trip, but I'm glad to be home. Erin and Grant return from Sacramento on Saturday...hopefully I can get the house cleaned up by then.
As expected, he had a ridiculously good time. He got to ride on the Matterhorn, his first real roller coaster. And of course he got to ride many rides with NeNe (Erin's mom), which he loved.
Here's Grant sporting his "Honey, I Shrunk The Audience" 3-D glasses:
And here's Grant and me in the back car of a coaster...
I made two observations at Disneyland when comparing it to Disney World. First, the apparently "refurbed" Space Mountain at Disneyland is a VAST improvement on the one in Florida. It is MUCH darker than it's Disney World counterpart...far more exciting as a roller coaster. My other comment is that Disneyland's castle looks like a suburban home outfitted with turrets. It's tiny. I was pretty shocked when I saw it. Old Walt must have decided his studio apartment sized castle wasn't cutting it when he later built Disney World.
Here's Grant tuckered out in the rental car, post-Disney, with his favorite new appendage from Peter Pan:
On Monday, I dragged Erin around to some Los Angeles based Beach Boys sites. She was unimpressed. She apparently had no interest in seeing the house where Brian Wilson lay munching Animal Crackers in bed for several years or where Dennis Wilson hosted luaus with Charlie Manson. I guess we simply have different interests.
Next we headed over to the Santa Monica Pier to let Grant ride some more rides. The kid really is turning into a ride junkie. We bought him a pass to ride all of the little kid rides, and he had a blast. He kept the staff well entertained also.
Monday evening we had dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Santa Monica called Lares. I ordered a chicken dish in chipotle sauce which was indicated to be "very spicy." Having been lured by this before, only to find out it's "very spicy" if you think Taco Bell is "very spicy," I was shocked to discover that my meal was, indeed, freaking spicy. I couldn't feel my tongue or lips. I was drooling margarita onto my shirt it was so spicy. The flavor was excellent, but I almost couldn't keep it in my mouth long enough to enjoy it.
At the conclusion of our meal, our server came over, looked down at my plate with a big grin and said, "Not bad! Not bad!" I replied, "It bwas bewwy beweey gwood."
On Saturday we took a drive up the coast through Manhattan Beach and the world's largest "Say No To Drugs" display, better known as Venice Beach. Anyone who walks through Venice Beach and exits the other side thinking, "Man, I'd really be happier if I had a joint" is obviously not paying attention.
After Venice, we made our way to Tony P's for dinner in Marina Del Rey. As I looked out the window at all the boats, I noted to Erin that this was the exact set of docks where Dennis Wilson drowned. Having had enough Beach Boys trivia for a lifetime, she threatened to throw me overboard, so I kept my other facts to myself.
All in all, it was a nice trip, but I'm glad to be home. Erin and Grant return from Sacramento on Saturday...hopefully I can get the house cleaned up by then.
Stuffed Shorts
I had a long layover at the Atlanta airport yesterday on my way back from L.A., and it was made even longer when I voluntarily was bumped off my initial oversold flight. (Hey, they give me $200 to get into Indy 55 minutes later...not too bad...)
The extra hour gave me just enough time for a nature run, so I made my way to the nearest restroom. Let the eye-rolling commence.
Upon entering the first unused stall, I reached for a "seat protector" to protect my ever-delicate backside. I noticed there didn't appear to be any of them left, but when I looked into the dispenser, I noticed what appeared to be a cleaning rag stuffed into the bottom. I didn't really think anything about it until I recalled a story my uncle told me a while back.
Apparently he went into his place of employment one day and discovered that the bathroom had flooded. Upon further examination, it was determined that someone had stuffed a pair of slightly destroyed underpants into the TANK of the toilet. With my eyes now opened, I realized that the "cleaning rag" I had encountered at the Atlanta airport bathroom stall was actually somebody's underwear.
Again, I ask, am I missing something here? Is there a website called www.wheretostuffyourcrappyshorts.com that I haven't seen? For crying out loud, people. Have some dignity. If your soiled shorts are no longer viable as clothing, you can kindly throw them into the trash. Don't create a "natty underwear scavenger hunt" for the rest of us. Ick.
The extra hour gave me just enough time for a nature run, so I made my way to the nearest restroom. Let the eye-rolling commence.
Upon entering the first unused stall, I reached for a "seat protector" to protect my ever-delicate backside. I noticed there didn't appear to be any of them left, but when I looked into the dispenser, I noticed what appeared to be a cleaning rag stuffed into the bottom. I didn't really think anything about it until I recalled a story my uncle told me a while back.
Apparently he went into his place of employment one day and discovered that the bathroom had flooded. Upon further examination, it was determined that someone had stuffed a pair of slightly destroyed underpants into the TANK of the toilet. With my eyes now opened, I realized that the "cleaning rag" I had encountered at the Atlanta airport bathroom stall was actually somebody's underwear.
Again, I ask, am I missing something here? Is there a website called www.wheretostuffyourcrappyshorts.com that I haven't seen? For crying out loud, people. Have some dignity. If your soiled shorts are no longer viable as clothing, you can kindly throw them into the trash. Don't create a "natty underwear scavenger hunt" for the rest of us. Ick.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Pictures from California
We've done quite a bit on our mini-vacation to California, so I wanted to get some pictures up before I head home. I'll try to post more about what we did during my layover in Atlanta on Wednesday (thank you, Delta).
On Saturday, we had a wonderful breakfast with Erin's cousin Kathy, her mom, her husband, and their two adorable kids. Grant fell IN LOVE with their daughter Andrea. IN LOVE. We met them all at a little place called Dinah's in Culver City, which looked like a HoJo's from the 1960's. It was great. Here are some pics of Grant and his long lost cousins, Andrea and Justin.
The traffic during our stay has been very un-L.A. like. This was the view on our way to Disneyland on Sunday (perhaps someone warned them of our arrival).
Here are a couple of pictures of the Grantster at Disneyland. More to come...
On Saturday, we had a wonderful breakfast with Erin's cousin Kathy, her mom, her husband, and their two adorable kids. Grant fell IN LOVE with their daughter Andrea. IN LOVE. We met them all at a little place called Dinah's in Culver City, which looked like a HoJo's from the 1960's. It was great. Here are some pics of Grant and his long lost cousins, Andrea and Justin.
The traffic during our stay has been very un-L.A. like. This was the view on our way to Disneyland on Sunday (perhaps someone warned them of our arrival).
Here are a couple of pictures of the Grantster at Disneyland. More to come...
Monday, June 01, 2009
Surreal
Last night, Erin and I attended the "SpikeTV Guys Choice" awards. This might qualify as the most surreal night of my life, for any number of reasons. Since I can't really figure out a good way to interpret what I saw, I'll just provide some facts.
Fact: Mel Gibson did, in fact, ride in on a horse at the beginning of the show.
Fact: The waitresses wore black undergarments and open tuxedo shirts. Nothing else.
Fact: Ben Stiller, Halle Berry, Jaime Fox, Clint Eastwood, Clinton Tarantino, Robert Downy Jr., Mickey Rourke, Brad Pitt, and Ed Norton were all present.
Fact: Celebrities don't actually sit in their seats during these things. Apparently they are "placed" appropriately for when the camera shows them jumping up out of their seat to receive their award. Then they go home.
Fact: I was supposed to be in the green room backstage for part of the evening, but due to a change in security, I was not allowed back there.
Fact: I was the only person present wearing clothes from Target.
Fact: Erin was the only person there wearing clothes from Dress Barn.
Fact: At one point, there were more people surrounding our table who were NOT wearing pants than were.
It was a disturbing evening to say the least. Nothing in L.A. is real.
Fact: Mel Gibson did, in fact, ride in on a horse at the beginning of the show.
Fact: The waitresses wore black undergarments and open tuxedo shirts. Nothing else.
Fact: Ben Stiller, Halle Berry, Jaime Fox, Clint Eastwood, Clinton Tarantino, Robert Downy Jr., Mickey Rourke, Brad Pitt, and Ed Norton were all present.
Fact: Celebrities don't actually sit in their seats during these things. Apparently they are "placed" appropriately for when the camera shows them jumping up out of their seat to receive their award. Then they go home.
Fact: I was supposed to be in the green room backstage for part of the evening, but due to a change in security, I was not allowed back there.
Fact: I was the only person present wearing clothes from Target.
Fact: Erin was the only person there wearing clothes from Dress Barn.
Fact: At one point, there were more people surrounding our table who were NOT wearing pants than were.
It was a disturbing evening to say the least. Nothing in L.A. is real.
Friday, May 29, 2009
L.A. Trip Part, Like, Number One, Dude
Yes, yes, I'm a bad father. I sat in first class while my wife, kid, and mother-in-law sat in coach. I figured I'd just be a 3rd wheel with Erin and her mom, and Grant would sooner get vaccination shots than talk to me when NeNe (grandma) is around, so I sat in first class (but only on half the flight). I didn't feel guilty about the decision until I heard a familiar voice holler "My ears! My ears!" while we were landing. I dabbed the corners of my mouth with my cloth napkin and kindly asked the flight attendant to shut the curtain between us and coach so I wouldn't have to listen to that unruly youngster's cries. Guilt assuaged.
Upon arrival in Los Angeles, Erin took me on a brief tour of the area where she grew up. She always makes it sounds much worse than it really is, now that I've seen it. So when she tries to convince you that she used ta be a gansta, don't buy it. She's a white girl who now drives a Kia minivan.
We had a well above average dinner at Novecento Pasta & Grill in Culver City, close to our hotel. While we were hanging around waiting for the restaurant to open at 5pm, I encountered my first celebrity of the trip, none other than Dr. Rocket Romano from ER. I tried to get Erin to notice him, but she thought my nudge was directed at some poor Chinese lady trying to push her daughter along in a stroller. (Grace really does need to get her sooner than later...this is getting embarrassing.)
In any case, Paul McCrane had what I can only assume was his son with him, and they apparently were stopping for ice cream. He didn't seem to understand when I acted out the full scene where he gets his arm chopped off by the helicopter blade at County General, complete with slow motion screams. I was about to move into his role on "24" when Novecento finally opened.
After an exhausting travel day, I'm looking forward to going to work tomorrow. The "Guys Choice" awards honor such noble artistry as "Hottest Girl on the Planet" and "Deadliest Warrior." I'll take my camera...
Upon arrival in Los Angeles, Erin took me on a brief tour of the area where she grew up. She always makes it sounds much worse than it really is, now that I've seen it. So when she tries to convince you that she used ta be a gansta, don't buy it. She's a white girl who now drives a Kia minivan.
We had a well above average dinner at Novecento Pasta & Grill in Culver City, close to our hotel. While we were hanging around waiting for the restaurant to open at 5pm, I encountered my first celebrity of the trip, none other than Dr. Rocket Romano from ER. I tried to get Erin to notice him, but she thought my nudge was directed at some poor Chinese lady trying to push her daughter along in a stroller. (Grace really does need to get her sooner than later...this is getting embarrassing.)
In any case, Paul McCrane had what I can only assume was his son with him, and they apparently were stopping for ice cream. He didn't seem to understand when I acted out the full scene where he gets his arm chopped off by the helicopter blade at County General, complete with slow motion screams. I was about to move into his role on "24" when Novecento finally opened.
After an exhausting travel day, I'm looking forward to going to work tomorrow. The "Guys Choice" awards honor such noble artistry as "Hottest Girl on the Planet" and "Deadliest Warrior." I'll take my camera...
California Bound
Bret found out on Wednesday that he was needed in Los Angeles over the weekend, so with some last minute scrambling (and, boy, do I mean scambling), Grant and I decided to join him for an extended stay. Before we head up to northern California to visit with my ailing grandmother, we'll get to see some family while out in LA (I mean, I am a California native after all, a distinction I think few in California can claim), we're going to go to Disneyland (yes, Grant is spoiled), and Bret has to work (which is a blog post in itself as we'll be "red carpet guests" at the Guys' Choice Awards. Never have two people screamed: "they don't belong here" than Bret and me at the Guys' Choice Awards. Never).
We'll be blog able, so you'll have to tune in for Bret's reflections on sitting next to Hugh Hefner and other such quirks to our Saturday night.
We'll be blog able, so you'll have to tune in for Bret's reflections on sitting next to Hugh Hefner and other such quirks to our Saturday night.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Church Hunt
A few months ago, we embarked on a new challenge, a challenge we had yet to do as a couple: find a new church. We were both really sad to leave Common Ground, a church that had been my church home for ten years. Bret and I were married at Common Ground; we painted the walls at the new (now old building); we made dinner for the worship team; we (read: I) taught in the toddler room for years, and more than anything, we had friends that were near and dear to us.
But, with another house church (a group we met with weekly) coming to an end and moving in separate directions, Bret and I could not deny the pull and the desire to be involved in a church in Brownsburg. We knew we wanted to serve with, to worship with, to bump into around town with the people of Brownsburg. And, we wanted any effort on our part to help the people in this community.
So, with conviction but sadness, we left our church and have been searching for a church every week. It's been very enlightening for us to embark on this process together, as Bret and I process very differently. We made a list of every church in the area, crossed off the ones that were either way too big or way too small (like "didn't have a class for Grant" kind of small), and then started visiting. We'd visit one church, then another, then go back to the original, then a new church and so on. We prayed a lot.
In the end, we have landed on a new church home: The Bible Church of Brownsburg, and I am so excited to plant somewhere, even if it is new and hard. It's very different (in some ways) from our old church, which can be a hard adjustment, but we're confident that we've made the right decision. Our new church is small (70 families total), centered (on what really matters: the person and work of Christ), challenging (but it's good to get smacked around a little with challenging stuff), and in here in Brownsburg (about five minutes from home).
It's really a leap for me to be in a church so small, a church where everybody really does know everybody, but I'm excited to get my feet wet. We will forever think fondly of our friends at Common Ground; it's been sad and hard, but we knew it was the right choice to leave, and for awhile we were so concerned that we'd never find another church home (like when we went to the church with four families), but we did. We're thankful and excited!
But, with another house church (a group we met with weekly) coming to an end and moving in separate directions, Bret and I could not deny the pull and the desire to be involved in a church in Brownsburg. We knew we wanted to serve with, to worship with, to bump into around town with the people of Brownsburg. And, we wanted any effort on our part to help the people in this community.
So, with conviction but sadness, we left our church and have been searching for a church every week. It's been very enlightening for us to embark on this process together, as Bret and I process very differently. We made a list of every church in the area, crossed off the ones that were either way too big or way too small (like "didn't have a class for Grant" kind of small), and then started visiting. We'd visit one church, then another, then go back to the original, then a new church and so on. We prayed a lot.
In the end, we have landed on a new church home: The Bible Church of Brownsburg, and I am so excited to plant somewhere, even if it is new and hard. It's very different (in some ways) from our old church, which can be a hard adjustment, but we're confident that we've made the right decision. Our new church is small (70 families total), centered (on what really matters: the person and work of Christ), challenging (but it's good to get smacked around a little with challenging stuff), and in here in Brownsburg (about five minutes from home).
It's really a leap for me to be in a church so small, a church where everybody really does know everybody, but I'm excited to get my feet wet. We will forever think fondly of our friends at Common Ground; it's been sad and hard, but we knew it was the right choice to leave, and for awhile we were so concerned that we'd never find another church home (like when we went to the church with four families), but we did. We're thankful and excited!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Cincy, IKEA, and Dinosaurs
Since the arrival of little miss Grace is imminent, we decided to use some of our free long weekend to make a run to the IKEA in Cincinnati to pickup some more kiddy gear. In reality, we picked up some cool beer mugs and a plush shark for Grant, but it was still a good trip.
But prior to shopping in elegant splendor at IKEA, we made a quick run to Jungle Jim's. This place never ceases to amaze me. They have an amazing selection of virtually every type of food, AND you get to see a singing Campbell's soup can. How could you ever top this?
Between Jungle Jim's and IKEA, we had dinner at an AMAZING little Italian place in the Cincy suburb of Madeira called Ferrari's Little Italy. Holy smokes, was this some good food. We had your basic spaghetti and meatballs so that we'd have something Grant would eat, plus their pollo basilico. I can't say enough good things about the pollo basilico. At least two of us at the table agreed that this was the single best Italian meal we'd eaten EVER, so that tells you how good it was. Wine was drunk, noodles were slurped, and Grant ate several platefuls of spaghetti. It was a good night.
On Saturday, we made our way over to the Creation Museum. Now I know this is a controversial topic, but I'm pretty sure nobody reads our blog to engage in meaty debate (of which, I believe, there is plenty regarding this topic). So I'd just like to touch on this as an experience.
As I made my way past the "Biology book burning" on the way into the museum, I was immediately struck by just how crowded the place was. Obviously this place has turned into Disney World for the "homeschooling, can I borrow your bonnet?" crowd. These ticket agents heard "family of 13 with 1 on the way" more than anywhere else in America. It was pretty eye opening. I actually felt a little out of place in shorts and sandals...Mostly because my shorts didn't touch my ankles.
I did note that they have the world's largest collection of art featuring human beings playing cards and smoking cigarettes alongside the dinosaurs, so that was entertaining. We wandered through the museum and took in all the displays, including a large replica of a section of Noah's ark and a replica of the garden of Eden.
In case you're wondering, all of the "pre-apple-tasting" displays featuring Adam and Eve showed the lovely, unclothed Eve seated with her long, flowing hair perfectly placed over her front. I'm fairly certain that there were not even breasts sculpted underneath her lengthy locks, for fear of the potential consequences.
After seeing the museum, we then made our way out back to the petting zoo and gardens, which were actually quite lovely (the gardens that is...Petting zoos rank right up there with nosebleeds as entertainment to me). All in all, it was an interesting experience. And it gave me more than enough material for a blog entry.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Is there something you people aren't telling me?
Do you ever get the feeling that there's something about you that everyone who knows you is aware of, but they're unwilling to tell you?
When I answer the phone for telemarketers or the Am-Vets lady, they frequently refer to me as "Ma'am" until I correct them. This leads me to believe that I must sound like a woman on the phone. And apparently I'm not a cute young lady, but rather a middle-aged mother of four.
I have had the same occurrence on some of my teleconferences with Asia. Occasionally a new member of the team (if that's what you call a worldwide collection of semi-disgruntled employees) will join our calls and refer to me in the feminine. Not cool.
When I was a kid, I had the voice of a castrated angel. I sang in choir and proudly displayed my pre-tenor abilities around the world. But I fear that I must still sound like I'm castrated on the phone. Can somebody help me here? Does my voice really say "ma'am" instead of "dude." This is distressing.
When I answer the phone for telemarketers or the Am-Vets lady, they frequently refer to me as "Ma'am" until I correct them. This leads me to believe that I must sound like a woman on the phone. And apparently I'm not a cute young lady, but rather a middle-aged mother of four.
I have had the same occurrence on some of my teleconferences with Asia. Occasionally a new member of the team (if that's what you call a worldwide collection of semi-disgruntled employees) will join our calls and refer to me in the feminine. Not cool.
When I was a kid, I had the voice of a castrated angel. I sang in choir and proudly displayed my pre-tenor abilities around the world. But I fear that I must still sound like I'm castrated on the phone. Can somebody help me here? Does my voice really say "ma'am" instead of "dude." This is distressing.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
On the Horizon
There's some good news on the horizon (nothing definite) that international adoptions in China might pick back up sooner than expected. We'll have more news in the coming days, but it looks like we might see Gracie's picture as soon as two weeks (or as late as early July). There are still lots of problems with travel, but the thought of seeing those two little eyes is just divine.
We'll fill you in when we see something definitive. We're happy beyond measure!
We'll fill you in when we see something definitive. We're happy beyond measure!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Church Windows
On Sunday, we visited yet another church in our community with the intention of smoking out witches, snake handlers, and poorly prepared casseroles and Jello salads.
Something I have noticed over the past couple of months is that church windows are never clear. In other words, it is virtually impossible for me to daydream and stare out the windows during the sermon because the view is always obscured.
This practice started long ago with the use of "stained" glass. (And remember those old churches with the really high pews that you couldn't see out of?)
Who did these guys think they were fooling? Stained glass had nothing to do with art. It was developed, no doubt, by the guy in the Big Funny Hat at the front of the cathedral who was tired of Lance and Anselm staring into the courtyard watching Maid Marion pick daisies (and slowly die of The Plague).
As people caught onto the scam, church builders began reducing the size of the windows. First we had smaller stained glass:
Then we had simple narrow slits for windows (these were easily found at the local prison supply store):
And now, it seems that most every church we visit has used some variant of the material used to keep people from peering in at you while you're on the toilet to cover their windows. Some call it "frosting" and others call it "translucent window covering" but I call it, "Preacher's-Ego-Can't-Handle-Me-Zoning-Out-After-35-Minutes Blinders."
In any case, it's clear to me that eventually we're all going to look like this poor bloke, sitting on hard benches with no windows to stare out of, looking at Powerpoint slide #45 of #2305 on why it's bad to poke people with a pointy stick until they give you all their money...as if we haven't all heard that one before.
Friday, May 15, 2009
She Will Pay
Erin put a bag of prunes AND a Fiber One bar in my lunch today. Apparently she thinks I'm an 80 year old woman. She will pay this evening.
Personal Trainer Hell
As some of you may know, I am meeting with a personal trainer twice a week. This morning was especially painful, which prompted this post. Here are my observations of our short conversations:
My least favorite word: Again.
My least two favorite words: Pulse it.
My least three favorite words: Make it count.
My least four favorite words: Keep your core tight.
My least five favorite words: I will see you tomorrow.
I'm dying. I am so sore!
My least favorite word: Again.
My least two favorite words: Pulse it.
My least three favorite words: Make it count.
My least four favorite words: Keep your core tight.
My least five favorite words: I will see you tomorrow.
I'm dying. I am so sore!
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Our Little Comic
Grant is growing into quite the comedian. As you'll see in the video, his current mode of joke is switching the words in songs, changing your name, or messing up on purpose. But, my favorite thing Grant does comes after he's said something funny. If you laugh at something he says, he immediately turns around and asks, "what did I say?" because he's just dying to know how he can make you laugh. But, don't you dare tell him because then he will, with no exaggeration, say it 100 times. If you laughed once, people, you're bound to laugh again!
Here's a video to prove my point. He insists on calling me Mamaw (his grandmother), which he thinks is just the funniest thing ever. He switches the words in both "Jesus Loves Me" and "Raindrops on Roses" (don't know official title, which is sad because I know every single word from the Sound of Music, much to Bret's chagrin. It's a long video, so it's really only for grandparents, and even then, only if they are bored or lonely.
Here's a video to prove my point. He insists on calling me Mamaw (his grandmother), which he thinks is just the funniest thing ever. He switches the words in both "Jesus Loves Me" and "Raindrops on Roses" (don't know official title, which is sad because I know every single word from the Sound of Music, much to Bret's chagrin. It's a long video, so it's really only for grandparents, and even then, only if they are bored or lonely.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
10 Things You Should Ask Your Mother
In celebration of Mother's Day, CNN ran a story today listing the top ten questions every person should ask their mother now. I found the story mildly interesting and decided that I would offer up what I think my mom would answer. (I could actually ask her the questions and let her provide the answers, but I suspect she'd answer most of them with a slightly confused look and a "Yeah!?" or "Just a sec, let me ask your dad" which provides little entertainment.) Let's proceed.
1. What's the one thing you would have done differently as a mom?
I suspect my mom would say that she would have placed some of her sock money in Breyer's stocks. She bought enough "mint chocolate chip" to fill in the Grand Canyon while I was living at home. At least she could have gotten something back (up until the past year, anyway).
2. Why did you choose to be with my father?
"Just a sec, let me ask your dad..."
My mom is not a pinnacle of decisiveness. My dad provides their relationship with a great deal of balance in this regard. My mom can't individually decide which side of bed to crawl out of in the morning, so it's good that she has dad to consult. If only he could hear her...
3. In what ways do you think I'm like you? And not like you?
I think my mom would say that I picked up some of her indecisiveness, so it's good that I have Erin to balance that out. I think she might point out that she has a complete lack of gluttony, so who knows where that came from. (When my diabetic tremor starts, and I reach for my third piece of chocolate cake, I'll always think of my dad saddling a box of Christmas cookies while watching the History Channel.)
4. Which one of us kids did you like the best?
Duh.
5. Is there anything you have always wanted to tell me but never have?
I don't have any interest in worrying about NEW horrors of history. I feature enough genetic anomalies as it is, therefore I shall avoid asking this question.
6. Do you think it's easier or harder to be a mother now than when you were raising our family?
My sister and I were pretty easy kids to raise, so she probably would say it was easier back then. She only had to drive me 40 miles round trip to choir practice three times a week, so she really had it pretty easy on the whole.
7. Is there anything you regret not having asked your parents?
Sheesh...both of my mother's parents are still alive, so if she has regrets in this regard, she needs to give them a call. This question makes it sound like my mother must be at least 80 years old, and I'm fairly certain she's at LEAST five years shy of this.
In reality, my dear mom asks everyone she encounters the same basic questions:
"Did you know they have gas for $1.96 at the Speedway on Meridian?" or
"Do you have a coupon for $1 off ground chuck at Meijer? It was in section C on page 5 of the Sunday paper." or
"Did you see that the price of milk has gone up by $.06 this week? Better stock up! We have a Democrat in office!"
8. What's the best thing I can do for you right now?
"Point me to your bathroom" is probably a likely candidate.
9. Is there anything that you wish had been different between us -- or that you would still like to change?
I would hope that my mom would think very carefully before answering this question. It could have a strong bearing on when and where she goes when assisted living is necessary. It's her call. She can either be sitting under a flickering 40 watt lightbulb watching "Gunsmoke" reruns into eternity, or she can be sipping a smoothie in a leather recliner, waiting for the charter bus to take her on a day trip to go shopping. These next few years will be decisive.
10. When did you realize you were no longer a child?
This is a dumb question. Who ever thinks about this? For me, this moment was about 30 seconds before "I do"...just as a little bit of sweat (or maybe it was pee) ran down my leg. I suspect my mom entered adulthood far more gracefully, but who knows?
In any case, happy Mother's Day, Mom! Your cheese log is in the mail.
1. What's the one thing you would have done differently as a mom?
I suspect my mom would say that she would have placed some of her sock money in Breyer's stocks. She bought enough "mint chocolate chip" to fill in the Grand Canyon while I was living at home. At least she could have gotten something back (up until the past year, anyway).
2. Why did you choose to be with my father?
"Just a sec, let me ask your dad..."
My mom is not a pinnacle of decisiveness. My dad provides their relationship with a great deal of balance in this regard. My mom can't individually decide which side of bed to crawl out of in the morning, so it's good that she has dad to consult. If only he could hear her...
3. In what ways do you think I'm like you? And not like you?
I think my mom would say that I picked up some of her indecisiveness, so it's good that I have Erin to balance that out. I think she might point out that she has a complete lack of gluttony, so who knows where that came from. (When my diabetic tremor starts, and I reach for my third piece of chocolate cake, I'll always think of my dad saddling a box of Christmas cookies while watching the History Channel.)
4. Which one of us kids did you like the best?
Duh.
5. Is there anything you have always wanted to tell me but never have?
I don't have any interest in worrying about NEW horrors of history. I feature enough genetic anomalies as it is, therefore I shall avoid asking this question.
6. Do you think it's easier or harder to be a mother now than when you were raising our family?
My sister and I were pretty easy kids to raise, so she probably would say it was easier back then. She only had to drive me 40 miles round trip to choir practice three times a week, so she really had it pretty easy on the whole.
7. Is there anything you regret not having asked your parents?
Sheesh...both of my mother's parents are still alive, so if she has regrets in this regard, she needs to give them a call. This question makes it sound like my mother must be at least 80 years old, and I'm fairly certain she's at LEAST five years shy of this.
In reality, my dear mom asks everyone she encounters the same basic questions:
"Did you know they have gas for $1.96 at the Speedway on Meridian?" or
"Do you have a coupon for $1 off ground chuck at Meijer? It was in section C on page 5 of the Sunday paper." or
"Did you see that the price of milk has gone up by $.06 this week? Better stock up! We have a Democrat in office!"
8. What's the best thing I can do for you right now?
"Point me to your bathroom" is probably a likely candidate.
9. Is there anything that you wish had been different between us -- or that you would still like to change?
I would hope that my mom would think very carefully before answering this question. It could have a strong bearing on when and where she goes when assisted living is necessary. It's her call. She can either be sitting under a flickering 40 watt lightbulb watching "Gunsmoke" reruns into eternity, or she can be sipping a smoothie in a leather recliner, waiting for the charter bus to take her on a day trip to go shopping. These next few years will be decisive.
10. When did you realize you were no longer a child?
This is a dumb question. Who ever thinks about this? For me, this moment was about 30 seconds before "I do"...just as a little bit of sweat (or maybe it was pee) ran down my leg. I suspect my mom entered adulthood far more gracefully, but who knows?
In any case, happy Mother's Day, Mom! Your cheese log is in the mail.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
A Whopper of a Temptation
Tonight, Satan took me up on the mountain for my temptation, and this time, it came with a side of fries.
On our way to go shopping tonight, Erin and I decided that we couldn't wait until after buying the week's groceries to eat dinner (as that might cause our stomachs to growl for at least 30 minutes...unacceptable), so we stopped at Burger King (my choice) for a healthy and delicious meal.
When we eat fast food, Erin inevitably asks questions like "Are the tomatoes grown locally?" or "Can I get that with some of the mustard on the top bun and some of it on the side?" These questions usually garner a blank stare and occasionally reveal that the individual taking our order actually speaks no English beyond "cheeseburger," "fries," and "Sorry dude, I don't have insurance."
So tonight at Burger King, she requested that her Whopper come with no onions or mayo, simple requests. Upon receiving our order, I began devouring my sandwich when Erin opened hers to find no onion and globs of mayo, despite being correctly marked "No Mayo" on the wrapper. Frequently in these situations, Erin just sucks it up and eats her food, not wishing to have a confrontation with a vacant high school student (at least not on her weekends). But tonight, she did NOT want mayo, so she headed rightfully back to the counter.
As I watched the exchange occur between Erin and the individual behind the counter, I noticed her sandwich sitting there, lonely, on the counter. I silently prayed to myself, "God, please let that lonely, discarded Whopper make it into the trashcan or an employee's dinner. Whatever you do, Lord, don't let Erin bring it back with her."
Just as I saw the employee hand Erin her new sandwich, I noticed Erin also pickup the old one. As she walked back, I was about half finished with my original Whopper. She threw her first Whopper on the table in front of me and began eating her new and improved, no mayo sandwich.
I finished up my sandwich and stared longingly at the extra Whopper on the table. I had finished my fries and sandwich, and I was actually pretty much full, but the Whopper looked so forlorn, laying there already unwrapped on the table, like an uninvited guest at the party.
Eventually I told Erin, "You know, I've always said I could eat two Whoppers."
"No way" she replied.
"Oh sure I could. Watch me."
And with that, I began the 2nd Whopper.
Almost immediately, I began to feel my dinner building up in the top of my stomach as though trying to climb out of my throat with a rope ladder. I would have tried to push the food down manually, but I was too busy trying to regain the feeling in my left arm.
I slowly finished Whopper #2 and let out an exclamation, letting our fellow Burger King patrons know how proud I was of my achievement. I waited for Erin to congratulate me in astonishment. She was astonished alright, but all she could say was "You're gross."
As I type this, there is a small army of Tums the size of a toy poodle keeping my Whopper's at bay. I shudder to think of what will happen when I go to bed later, or even worse, the bathroom.
On our way to go shopping tonight, Erin and I decided that we couldn't wait until after buying the week's groceries to eat dinner (as that might cause our stomachs to growl for at least 30 minutes...unacceptable), so we stopped at Burger King (my choice) for a healthy and delicious meal.
When we eat fast food, Erin inevitably asks questions like "Are the tomatoes grown locally?" or "Can I get that with some of the mustard on the top bun and some of it on the side?" These questions usually garner a blank stare and occasionally reveal that the individual taking our order actually speaks no English beyond "cheeseburger," "fries," and "Sorry dude, I don't have insurance."
So tonight at Burger King, she requested that her Whopper come with no onions or mayo, simple requests. Upon receiving our order, I began devouring my sandwich when Erin opened hers to find no onion and globs of mayo, despite being correctly marked "No Mayo" on the wrapper. Frequently in these situations, Erin just sucks it up and eats her food, not wishing to have a confrontation with a vacant high school student (at least not on her weekends). But tonight, she did NOT want mayo, so she headed rightfully back to the counter.
As I watched the exchange occur between Erin and the individual behind the counter, I noticed her sandwich sitting there, lonely, on the counter. I silently prayed to myself, "God, please let that lonely, discarded Whopper make it into the trashcan or an employee's dinner. Whatever you do, Lord, don't let Erin bring it back with her."
Just as I saw the employee hand Erin her new sandwich, I noticed Erin also pickup the old one. As she walked back, I was about half finished with my original Whopper. She threw her first Whopper on the table in front of me and began eating her new and improved, no mayo sandwich.
I finished up my sandwich and stared longingly at the extra Whopper on the table. I had finished my fries and sandwich, and I was actually pretty much full, but the Whopper looked so forlorn, laying there already unwrapped on the table, like an uninvited guest at the party.
Eventually I told Erin, "You know, I've always said I could eat two Whoppers."
"No way" she replied.
"Oh sure I could. Watch me."
And with that, I began the 2nd Whopper.
Almost immediately, I began to feel my dinner building up in the top of my stomach as though trying to climb out of my throat with a rope ladder. I would have tried to push the food down manually, but I was too busy trying to regain the feeling in my left arm.
I slowly finished Whopper #2 and let out an exclamation, letting our fellow Burger King patrons know how proud I was of my achievement. I waited for Erin to congratulate me in astonishment. She was astonished alright, but all she could say was "You're gross."
As I type this, there is a small army of Tums the size of a toy poodle keeping my Whopper's at bay. I shudder to think of what will happen when I go to bed later, or even worse, the bathroom.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Hard News
As of last night, we were scheduled to get Grace in June or July. We have been planning, prepping, making packing lists, checking in to visas, and most importantly, trying to prep Grant.
But, then, this morning, bad news hit. Thanks to the swine flu, China is halting international adoptions until the scare ends. SARS halted adoptions for five months, which, should the current scare follow the same path, would have us getting Grace in September or October.
We're trying to have perspective, to recognize that God has a plan and a time (and a specific baby girl), but right now, today, it's just hard. We're bummed. It looks like it might take over four years of "pregnancy" to bring Gracie home. I think people think it must be easy to wait, as we're not physically pregnant, but there is no end to our love for Gracie, and we have loved her, just as we would a bio baby, from the moment we knew she was a reality. This isn't easy for us, but we believe that our good God will deliver us a good gift in Gracie Hawkins, and she will be the child we were meant to raise.
Bret just thinks that God is sparing me the really hot temps that July would have offered. I think God just wants me to have to endure several more months with that blasted personal trainer.
Either way, Grace will sure be a sight for sore eyes when she comes.
But, then, this morning, bad news hit. Thanks to the swine flu, China is halting international adoptions until the scare ends. SARS halted adoptions for five months, which, should the current scare follow the same path, would have us getting Grace in September or October.
We're trying to have perspective, to recognize that God has a plan and a time (and a specific baby girl), but right now, today, it's just hard. We're bummed. It looks like it might take over four years of "pregnancy" to bring Gracie home. I think people think it must be easy to wait, as we're not physically pregnant, but there is no end to our love for Gracie, and we have loved her, just as we would a bio baby, from the moment we knew she was a reality. This isn't easy for us, but we believe that our good God will deliver us a good gift in Gracie Hawkins, and she will be the child we were meant to raise.
Bret just thinks that God is sparing me the really hot temps that July would have offered. I think God just wants me to have to endure several more months with that blasted personal trainer.
Either way, Grace will sure be a sight for sore eyes when she comes.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Action Figures
Grant has a Moses action figure. I have no idea why, or where he got it. He's smiling, has flowing gray hair, a staff and two stone tablets containing, presumably, the Ten Commandments.
Grant enjoys playing with Moses in tandem with Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story, and let me tell you, those stone tablets are no match for Buzz's ability to fly. Buzz frequently introduces himself, gives his signature "To infinity and beyond!" and then tramples over Moses during takeoff. Poor Moses.
Grant enjoys playing with Moses in tandem with Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story, and let me tell you, those stone tablets are no match for Buzz's ability to fly. Buzz frequently introduces himself, gives his signature "To infinity and beyond!" and then tramples over Moses during takeoff. Poor Moses.
You know you're a mother when... Part 2
You catch vomit in your hand... because it's easier to catch it than clean it up. The croup continues!
Friday, April 24, 2009
Memories...
This morning, Grant looked at me and asked, "Daddy, when I was younger, did we go to Disney World?"
"Yes, Grant. That was about three weeks ago."
"Yes, Grant. That was about three weeks ago."
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Croup... again
You know you're a mother when your child coughs so hard (thank you, croup) that he vomits all over himself (four different times), his carseat, and the minivan, and here's the kicker: you're not phased. At all. You pull into the am/pm, take some towels, clean up the vomit, undress the boy down to his Buzz Lightyear undies, put him back in half dressed (only had an extra pair of pants), buy a super big gulp cup (39 cent rip off) should he need to vomit again, and continue on your merry way. I've crossed the threshold (especially after fecal foot matter incident), and these kind of things are just the everyday part of life.
After confirmation from the doctor this morning, Grant has a bad case of croup (worse than last time), and he had to have a steroid shot in hopes of reducing airway swelling. If it doesn't work in 12 hours, we're off to the ER for some special breathing treatment. Right now, he's resting peacefully thanks to some cough suppressant with codeine. Better living through chemistry, people.
Please pray for our little guy because the doctor put him on strict bed rest (yeah, right; he's two), so we're taking in lots and lots of Thomas the Tank Engine today.
After confirmation from the doctor this morning, Grant has a bad case of croup (worse than last time), and he had to have a steroid shot in hopes of reducing airway swelling. If it doesn't work in 12 hours, we're off to the ER for some special breathing treatment. Right now, he's resting peacefully thanks to some cough suppressant with codeine. Better living through chemistry, people.
Please pray for our little guy because the doctor put him on strict bed rest (yeah, right; he's two), so we're taking in lots and lots of Thomas the Tank Engine today.
Monday, April 20, 2009
15 seconds with Grant
I took a picture a second, and this is what transpired:
He wears his emotions on his sleeves, eh?
He wears his emotions on his sleeves, eh?
Friday, April 17, 2009
It's Me, It's Me, It's...
As some of our faithful readers may have noticed, all of our blog posts over the past few years have been signed simply "side of fries." That's because I was simply too lazy to create my own account when I hijacked Erin's family-friendly blog and turned it into the den of debauchery that you see before you now.
But have no fear, I have now rectified that situation. I have created my own account, so now you will see each post signed as "bret" or "erin" to denote its authorship. I have done this primarily to save Erin the professional embarrassment associated with me using words like "fart," "poop," "penis," and "giggle" on a regular basis in my posts. (Now that I read it, shouldn't that be a new cartoon character someplace? Mr. Fartpoop Penisgiggle? I like it.)
Anyway, I hope you'll continue to enjoy reading our blog, and that you won't use this new distinction to filter out all posts written by yours truly.
But have no fear, I have now rectified that situation. I have created my own account, so now you will see each post signed as "bret" or "erin" to denote its authorship. I have done this primarily to save Erin the professional embarrassment associated with me using words like "fart," "poop," "penis," and "giggle" on a regular basis in my posts. (Now that I read it, shouldn't that be a new cartoon character someplace? Mr. Fartpoop Penisgiggle? I like it.)
Anyway, I hope you'll continue to enjoy reading our blog, and that you won't use this new distinction to filter out all posts written by yours truly.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
One Good Thing; One Bad Thing
I realize that these Grant posts are only interesting to a few, as they are neither insightful nor funny, but we keep this blog as more of a baby journal, so... enough said.
Good thing: Potty training is a hit!
It took about a week in total, but Grant is completely potty trained (even through the night). After the first day, we had one terrible (almost made Mommy cry... okay, did make Mommy cry) accident that led to him (too much information is about to follow) smearing fecal matter around our kitchen with his feet. Yes, his feet. (As a side note, I was a second away from cutting the offending clothes off of him and throwing them away.) But, then, it's been smooth sailing. Really, really smooth sailing. Well, until today when I picked Grant up at school, and Grant's teacher informed me that the school might have to get new drywall after she tried to get Grant to stand to pee. He normally sits, but she didn't think his aim was much better while sitting, so she thought she'd try the standing approach. Urine soaked after a minute, she regretted her decision. I think Starbucks gift cards are in order for that saint of a teacher.
Bad thing: First real fall
Today has been gorgeous. We've been cooped up with unseasonably cold temps, so when the sunshine and nice temps made an appearance today, Grant and I headed for the neighborhood park. I encouraged Grant to try this ladder thingy, a thingy that is high and dangerous looking, but after he traversed it a dozen times without incident, my fears were placated. Then, of course, it happened. Grant fell from about six feet up, right onto his arm. I was surprisingly calm, calculating how long we'd be in the ER with a broken bone, half impressed that it happened before the age of 3. But, after a minute of hard crying, Grant looked up through tears and told me he wasn't "paying attention." A cut and scraped up arm, which Grant wore with pride the rest of the evening, is the only apparent battle wound. I was a little worried about a concussion, but after some very thorough--and no doubt incredibly accurate--Web MD internet searching, I think he'll make it.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Misunderstandings, Part 4
For several months now, Grant has been making a mistake in his language skills that Bret and I are unwilling to correct. We're not the grammar police, but I think there is a time and a place for teaching your kids the correct way to say and to do things, but here's the thing: Grant's mistake is both smart and cute, so I'm going to leave it for as long as I can.
You see, Grant has developed two new contractions. He says didn't, couldn't and other such common phrases. But, have you ever heard willn't and amn't? If you haven't, just stop by our house as Grant uses them constantly.
This is the how the conversation goes:
Mommy: Grant, you are funny.
Grant: No, I amn't.
Mommy: See, that's funny.
OR
Mommy: Grant, you will go to school tomorrow.
Grant: No, I willn't.
I think Grant's contraction construction shows real smarts. He obviously gets how to form a contraction, and he thinks these contraction rules can be applied to a variety of words. There's an innocence to his mistakes, as we all know that rules don't always make sense, shouldn't always apply, and aren't always fair.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Misunderstandings, Part 3
My favorite thing as of late is listening to Grant sing. He sings about 20 songs or so, and he seems to learn a new song each week. This week, he's interested in a song he heard while at Disney, but the cute part is that it takes Grant several days to get it right.
"The Ballad of Davey Crockett"
Day 1: Davey, Davey Crocket, king of my wife and steer.
Day 2: Davey, Davey Crocket, king of my oil frontier.
It only took two days to get the refrain of this old classic right, but "Rock of Ages" is going to take some time.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Misunderstandings, Part 2: The Easter Edition
I wanted to make sure Grant was properly prepared for church this morning, so I taught him how to say, "Happy Easter," to anyone who even looked at him.
And to make sure he understood the importance of Easter to us, I taught him to say, "Jesus is alive," which he said with vigor, throwing his hands into the air.
But, it was not until I saw it play out to a bunch of strangers that I realized we had a problem. Grant had no problem with "Happy Easter," but when he got to the "Jesus is alive" part, we had a bit of a horrendous problem.
You see, there's only one consonant difference between "Jesus is alive" and "Jesus is a lie," the latter which poses some serious problems.
Needless to say, I think people graciously smiled as they knew what he was trying to say, but it'll be an Easter message for the books.
So, to all our friends, family, and any other faithful readers, we hope you have a had a joyous, hope-filled Easter. We, here in the Hawkins family, are so thankful for God's love!
And to make sure he understood the importance of Easter to us, I taught him to say, "Jesus is alive," which he said with vigor, throwing his hands into the air.
But, it was not until I saw it play out to a bunch of strangers that I realized we had a problem. Grant had no problem with "Happy Easter," but when he got to the "Jesus is alive" part, we had a bit of a horrendous problem.
You see, there's only one consonant difference between "Jesus is alive" and "Jesus is a lie," the latter which poses some serious problems.
Needless to say, I think people graciously smiled as they knew what he was trying to say, but it'll be an Easter message for the books.
So, to all our friends, family, and any other faithful readers, we hope you have a had a joyous, hope-filled Easter. We, here in the Hawkins family, are so thankful for God's love!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Misunderstandings, Part 1
Yesterday, as Grant was winding down for bed, I was telling him about Easter, specifically what Good Friday is and why we celebrate it.
I started the story with baby Jesus, a figure he remembered from Christmas. I proceed to tell the story about Jesus growing up, a short, toddler version of His ministry on earth, and then, I got to the hard part.
Mommy: Some people were very, very mad at Jesus. They did not like Him.
Grant: They didn't like Him?
Mommy: No, they were very angry with Him.
Grant: Why? Did he poop his pants?
Hmmm... not quite the Good Friday message I had intended...
Several more Grantisms to follow in the coming days.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
More Scarring
I happened to notice tonight while Erin was readying Grant for bed that he was wearing a pair of pull-ups to coincide with his current potty training. This seems like a good idea, but then I noticed they were pink Dora the Explorer underpants. What mother puts her son in pink underpants?
Incidentally, her reaction to the possibility of me wearing a pair of underpants featuring the image of a Latina cartoon character on the rear was much less positive. (And trust me, even if you're just trying to write a funny blog entry, never search for "men underpants mexican girl" on Google...EVER...)
Incidentally, her reaction to the possibility of me wearing a pair of underpants featuring the image of a Latina cartoon character on the rear was much less positive. (And trust me, even if you're just trying to write a funny blog entry, never search for "men underpants mexican girl" on Google...EVER...)
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Disney: An Experience in Photos
We had a
We learned a lot during our time at Disney (a lot about what we would do again... and what we wouldn't). We're not scheduling another trip for a few more years, but the first trip was a memorable one, indeed. Here are a few pictures from our last days at Disney.
At the pool
Watching Thomas the Tank Engine (Mickey, who?) before bed
Before our "all you can drink Milkshake night" (Mommy abstained, fyi) at the Wilderness Lodge (which I think is Mommy's favorite of all the resorts)
Waiting patiently outside of the Rockin' Rollercoaster while Mommy and Daddy tried one adult ride
Waiting in line to meet Woody and Buzz Lightyear. Grant has never seen the movies, but he is an all-out Buzz Lightyear fan.
The moment came, and it turned out Grant was a little freaked.
Minnie proved to be Grant's favorite. He would not let her go...
But Goofy was a different story...
Here's my favorite picture of the whole entire trip. I positioned the camera, and Bret said, "Grant, look who is coming!" Grant looked at Donald Duck, heading our way, and here's his reaction. Pure joy.
Monday, April 06, 2009
Whine, whine, whine...
Upon returning to Indiana, I have been informed by an unnamed reader of our blog who goes by the code name of "my mother" that I should not have posted that "more pictures would be coming" if more were not, indeed, on the way. Apparently my observations on life are no substitute for pictures of a grandchild enjoying Disney World, so let me explain why no pictures have showed up.
Disney does not have "free Internet" at their resorts. In fact, they don't even have "cheap Internet." They have $10 per day Internet. Therefore one must choose when and how to use the Internet, which for yours truly meant that I would only purchase two days worth and try to do what I could.
The other side of the coin is that for whatever reason, Erin and I stopped taking pictures midway through our trip. We have some more to post, but I'll let Erin handle that between cleaning our poor neglected house and potty training Grant.
To finish our travelogue, we left Orlando on Friday and drove to visit family in Birmingham for the weekend. We had a very nice visit, and Grant couldn't have been happier to see his cousins and "Aunt Keh-when and Unco Biww" (that's toddler speak for Karen and Bill). Amazingly, for the second year in a row in Birmingham, I ran into the same friend from high school who has relocated to Alabama. What are the chances?
After stuffing what valuables we could find into our pockets, we left my aunt and uncle's house on Sunday morning and headed for home. We stopped at our favorite Nashville area restaurant, Vittles, on Sunday for lunch and made it home around 7:00pm.
Today it's snowing here in Indianapolis. So I'll repeat the question to my wife and extended family -- Why do we continue to live here?
More pictures to come...really...some day...
Disney does not have "free Internet" at their resorts. In fact, they don't even have "cheap Internet." They have $10 per day Internet. Therefore one must choose when and how to use the Internet, which for yours truly meant that I would only purchase two days worth and try to do what I could.
The other side of the coin is that for whatever reason, Erin and I stopped taking pictures midway through our trip. We have some more to post, but I'll let Erin handle that between cleaning our poor neglected house and potty training Grant.
To finish our travelogue, we left Orlando on Friday and drove to visit family in Birmingham for the weekend. We had a very nice visit, and Grant couldn't have been happier to see his cousins and "Aunt Keh-when and Unco Biww" (that's toddler speak for Karen and Bill). Amazingly, for the second year in a row in Birmingham, I ran into the same friend from high school who has relocated to Alabama. What are the chances?
After stuffing what valuables we could find into our pockets, we left my aunt and uncle's house on Sunday morning and headed for home. We stopped at our favorite Nashville area restaurant, Vittles, on Sunday for lunch and made it home around 7:00pm.
Today it's snowing here in Indianapolis. So I'll repeat the question to my wife and extended family -- Why do we continue to live here?
More pictures to come...really...some day...
Thursday, April 02, 2009
You must be joking, Mickey...
Yesterday, we started our Disney Day at the same character breakfast buffet that we indulged in on Monday. I ate approximately five pounds of eggs, bacon, sausage, waffles, and cream laden bread pudding.
After lounging around for the day, we made our way to the Whispering Canyon Cafe at Disney's Wilderness Lodge. The cafe is notable for several reasons. First, they have an all-you-can-eat BBQ skillet featuring ribs, brisket, pulled pork, and chicken. As if this wasn't heart stopping enough, they also offer unlimited milk shakes. If this place existed in Indianapolis, there would be an ABC special when they have to cut a wall out of our house to wheel my bed onto the back of a truck to take me to the doctor.
In addition to the all you can eat grub, the Whispering Canyon features some small hostilities. For example, if you're the first guy in the room to ask for ketchup, they deliver 30 bottles of Heinz to your table. When the next guy asks for ketchup, you dump all the bottles on him. Similarly, if a kid asks for a crayon, every table delivers one to him. The kids love it, and I didn't mind it because it never required me to come up for air from my barbecue.
After eating ourselves sick, we made our way to the Boardwalk, where Erin and I share fond memories of eating donuts that looked a lot like icing covered inner tubes. We entered the bakery, and immediately I noticed the lack of donuts. They had whole grain muffins and some carrot cake, but not a donut in sight. I figured that perhaps they were only available in the mornings.
We inquired about the donuts, already planning to return in the AM, and the girl behind the counter informed us that they no longer serve the beautiful donuts because "Disney has gone no trans-fats."
You must be joking.
There was a cart not 10 feet away serving elephant ears covered with powdered sugar, and Disney just offered me unlimited beef, pork, and chocolate milk shakes for dinner. Not to mention the fact that in the parks, virtually every lunch spot serves a small heap of fried fish and chicken nuggets. But you can't serve me a freaking donut?
I have to believe this was decided in a board room with a conversation that went something like this:
"So what can we eliminate from our dining options that doesn't impact our offerings very much, but makes Disney look like they're doing the socially responsible thing?"
"Umm, sir, how about we eliminate one of the 65 buffets on the property?"
"Poppycock, Wilson. Those buffets are keeping our scooter rental business afloat!"
"How about we eliminate the giant Goofy candy dispensers that allow kids to fill a tube the size of a whiffle ball bat with pure flavored sugar?"
"Hogwash, Jones! Daffy's On-site Dental Care fills 2000 cavities per week because of those sugar sticks!"
"What about eliminating trans-fats? I don't know what a trans-fat is, but we did a study, and all we have to ditch are those donuts at the Boardwalk Bakery. Plus CNN talks about trans-fats every day, as though they carry Bubonic plague!"
"Excellent idea, Smith! Make it happen. And here's a free 3-day Hopper Pass for you and the misses for your hard work."
I feel like I've been had.
After lounging around for the day, we made our way to the Whispering Canyon Cafe at Disney's Wilderness Lodge. The cafe is notable for several reasons. First, they have an all-you-can-eat BBQ skillet featuring ribs, brisket, pulled pork, and chicken. As if this wasn't heart stopping enough, they also offer unlimited milk shakes. If this place existed in Indianapolis, there would be an ABC special when they have to cut a wall out of our house to wheel my bed onto the back of a truck to take me to the doctor.
In addition to the all you can eat grub, the Whispering Canyon features some small hostilities. For example, if you're the first guy in the room to ask for ketchup, they deliver 30 bottles of Heinz to your table. When the next guy asks for ketchup, you dump all the bottles on him. Similarly, if a kid asks for a crayon, every table delivers one to him. The kids love it, and I didn't mind it because it never required me to come up for air from my barbecue.
After eating ourselves sick, we made our way to the Boardwalk, where Erin and I share fond memories of eating donuts that looked a lot like icing covered inner tubes. We entered the bakery, and immediately I noticed the lack of donuts. They had whole grain muffins and some carrot cake, but not a donut in sight. I figured that perhaps they were only available in the mornings.
We inquired about the donuts, already planning to return in the AM, and the girl behind the counter informed us that they no longer serve the beautiful donuts because "Disney has gone no trans-fats."
You must be joking.
There was a cart not 10 feet away serving elephant ears covered with powdered sugar, and Disney just offered me unlimited beef, pork, and chocolate milk shakes for dinner. Not to mention the fact that in the parks, virtually every lunch spot serves a small heap of fried fish and chicken nuggets. But you can't serve me a freaking donut?
I have to believe this was decided in a board room with a conversation that went something like this:
"So what can we eliminate from our dining options that doesn't impact our offerings very much, but makes Disney look like they're doing the socially responsible thing?"
"Umm, sir, how about we eliminate one of the 65 buffets on the property?"
"Poppycock, Wilson. Those buffets are keeping our scooter rental business afloat!"
"How about we eliminate the giant Goofy candy dispensers that allow kids to fill a tube the size of a whiffle ball bat with pure flavored sugar?"
"Hogwash, Jones! Daffy's On-site Dental Care fills 2000 cavities per week because of those sugar sticks!"
"What about eliminating trans-fats? I don't know what a trans-fat is, but we did a study, and all we have to ditch are those donuts at the Boardwalk Bakery. Plus CNN talks about trans-fats every day, as though they carry Bubonic plague!"
"Excellent idea, Smith! Make it happen. And here's a free 3-day Hopper Pass for you and the misses for your hard work."
I feel like I've been had.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Sounds of Disney
Here is a short list of things I've heard at list a million times since we arrived at Disney World:
1. "Come on, Grant!" Grant cannot simply walk from location A to location B. He has to look at or play with every object between those two points, frequently attempting to injure them.
2. Inanimate objects playing Disney tunes. Disney has spent a fortune making trees, rocks, and sidewalks play their library of cartoon hits. Virtually everywhere you walk, "Zip A Dee Doo Dah" is humming quietly in the background from what appears to be a fern.
3. "If you don't RIGHT NOW, I'm going to beat the out of you!" Disney brings out the best, and worst, of parents. Grant has never heard these words, of course.
4. "AAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!" Similar to #3, Disney seems to alternate between a chorus of the most pleasant and inviting sounds known to man, alternating occasionally with a toddler scream that sounds as if it came from the shock therapy ward of a mental institution.
5. "Welcome home!" The gate keeper at the entrance to our resort greets us this way when we return from outings. I always want to ask, "Can I take a weed eater to Goofy's head over there, or perhaps do some ultimately unsuccessful home improvement projects on my room? If not, I'm not home. But this is a lovely substitute."
6. "That was pretty good, but I bet you can do better!!!" Apparently the non-Disney universe is clapping and/or greeting deficient. I have not once clapped or yelled "Good morning, Mickey!" in a satisfactory manner on my first attempt. Frequently my second attempt contains a muted expletive, just out of spite.
7. "I want to ride another ride!" Grant began saying this at about 10am at the Magic Kingdom. He was still muttering it in his sleep at 3am the next morning.
8. "That'll be." Disney is not cheap. We got a good deal on our trip, but I pity the folks who did not. I have seen multiple parents sobbing at the checkout lines of the various giftshops as Junior slurped away on a $10 lollipop. "M-I-C-K-E-Y...Give me your money!"
9. "Do they have Thomas or Percy here?" Grant nearly got a beat down from Goofy while waiting for breakfast this morning. He was gleefully reading a Thomas the Tank Engine book WITHIN THE DISNEY GROUNDS. Mickey's been trying to knock that cheeky little engine off the rails since his inception. I suspect one day Thomas might end up sporting mouse ears.
10. And finally, "Can someone give me a push?" This is the request made by one of the thousands of people now riding around Disney in power chairs after the battery starts to die. I find it distressing that SO MANY people, mostly American, require mobility assistance, and in at least 75% of the cases here, it's due to simple obesity. I'm a big dude, but I've already told Erin that if I can't walk on my own two feet for a trip to Disney World when I'm old, I do NOT deserve to be issued a power scooter. It's my own fault. I should've backed off the burritos long before I cracked the sidewalk at the entrance to the Magic Kingdom.
More pictures to come from Disney's Hollywood Studios tomorrow.
1. "Come on, Grant!" Grant cannot simply walk from location A to location B. He has to look at or play with every object between those two points, frequently attempting to injure them.
2. Inanimate objects playing Disney tunes. Disney has spent a fortune making trees, rocks, and sidewalks play their library of cartoon hits. Virtually everywhere you walk, "Zip A Dee Doo Dah" is humming quietly in the background from what appears to be a fern.
3. "If you don't
4. "AAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!" Similar to #3, Disney seems to alternate between a chorus of the most pleasant and inviting sounds known to man, alternating occasionally with a toddler scream that sounds as if it came from the shock therapy ward of a mental institution.
5. "Welcome home!" The gate keeper at the entrance to our resort greets us this way when we return from outings. I always want to ask, "Can I take a weed eater to Goofy's head over there, or perhaps do some ultimately unsuccessful home improvement projects on my room? If not, I'm not home. But this is a lovely substitute."
6. "That was pretty good, but I bet you can do better!!!" Apparently the non-Disney universe is clapping and/or greeting deficient. I have not once clapped or yelled "Good morning, Mickey!" in a satisfactory manner on my first attempt. Frequently my second attempt contains a muted expletive, just out of spite.
7. "I want to ride another ride!" Grant began saying this at about 10am at the Magic Kingdom. He was still muttering it in his sleep at 3am the next morning.
8. "That'll be
9. "Do they have Thomas or Percy here?" Grant nearly got a beat down from Goofy while waiting for breakfast this morning. He was gleefully reading a Thomas the Tank Engine book WITHIN THE DISNEY GROUNDS. Mickey's been trying to knock that cheeky little engine off the rails since his inception. I suspect one day Thomas might end up sporting mouse ears.
10. And finally, "Can someone give me a push?" This is the request made by one of the thousands of people now riding around Disney in power chairs after the battery starts to die. I find it distressing that SO MANY people, mostly American, require mobility assistance, and in at least 75% of the cases here, it's due to simple obesity. I'm a big dude, but I've already told Erin that if I can't walk on my own two feet for a trip to Disney World when I'm old, I do NOT deserve to be issued a power scooter. It's my own fault. I should've backed off the burritos long before I cracked the sidewalk at the entrance to the Magic Kingdom.
More pictures to come from Disney's Hollywood Studios tomorrow.
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