Drowning Avoidance

Well, today was my last official day of employment. I didn't actually report for duty today, since I'd already turned in my keys and gone through my exit interview. It's a weird feeling, knowing that all of the "stuff" you've cared about for 16 years doesn't matter anymore. But the prospect of learning new "stuff" (hopefully sooner than later) makes it feel OK.

I've been doing some phone interviews, which I pretty much detest. I understand their purpose, but I really dislike talking on the phone...for anything. The added stress of having it be the gateway to future employment makes it even more intolerable.

My prior employer has provided me access to a "career counselor" of sorts as part of my parting gift. He suggested last week that you don't want to say anything to give the potential employer the "creepy factor" over the phone. I suggested that perhaps I should no longer use "Gee, I rarely talk to someone on the phone for free while sitting at home in my underpants" as my opener. He didn't know how to respond.

Between watching the "Price Is Right" and "Regis & The Wirey Blond Chick" in my down time, I've been taking Grant to swim lessons at the local high school. We're going to the beach in a few weeks, and we wanted to make sure Grant had some basic skills in the water. We really weren't concerned about the lessons, in part because Grant has been exposed to the pool quite a bit already. He swims with us on every vacation, and he's always been a trooper in the bath tub. Boy, did we misjudge this.

On the first day, Grant spent most of the time in the pool screaming, "Get me out of this pool!" and "I want my mommy!" (Daddy never seems to get any love in these situations...of course, it's hard to hear him when you're on the ground laughing.) The picture at the top of the post was taken on Day One, albeit from a distance. As a parent, you have to let your kid learn to face these fears alone. At least that's what my dad told me as he watched me bubble under in the pool where he coached swimming.

Here are a few videos from the early days of swim lessons. In the first one, you can watch as the toddlers recreate the Bataan Death March into the pool. My favorite part is when, disgusted, Grant spots me shooting the video.

At the suggestion of another parent, we decided that bribery was the only way Grant would conquer his fears. The parent with the questionable judgment who made this suggestion stated that his daughter preferred ice cream. We knew that food wasn't the way to Grant's heart, but weaponry from the Dollar Tree probably was instead.

Part of the deal was that if Grant didn't cry during swim lessons, he'd get some new ammo or a new "gat" from the dollar store. In an effort to fully comply, Grant would turn around occasionally and make sure we saw him smiling from ear to ear. Even if he cried, he'd break for long enough to turn around. I caught a couple of examples below.

(You can see Grant's wonderful swim instructor in this photo, giving the camera a suspicious "Dateline Special" look as a very white dude shoots her picture in the pool, not knowing that Grant is, indeed, adopted.)

In the end, Grant has enjoyed the swimming lessons, and at least now we know he can scream at the top of his lungs if something were to happen on vacation. Additionally, we now have the world's most complete arsenal of plastic dollar store weaponry, all made in China. For me, it's a misty eyed reminder of my days of employment past and nights spent at the Holiday Inn Donghua. Farewell, old friend...

Tip Jars

One of the values held dear by my lovely wife is that of generosity, and I must admit that this is one of the many facets of my personality that has improved with our marriage. (Another might be the ability to eat dinner without engaging in a play-by-play style discussion of the path the meal is taking through my digestive tract.)

Early in our marriage, I would have to be revived if Erin managed to get our restaurant bill before I did, for I knew that the tip would probably be nearly equal to our original bill. We have managed to merge in the middle, and now we agree to tip well without trying to single handedly make a rent or mortgage payment for our server.

The one facet of tipping that still annoys me is the tip jar at the Starbucks drive thru. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the willingness of my window-based barista to pour me a "tall, black coffee" -- my signature drink at Starbucks. But I don't really feel like there's anything about my order that warrants a tip. I just find that the jar annoys me.

The other thing that bothers me about the tip jar in this location is that I eat at other fast food establishments, and the fine employees of those restaurants don't get tips, and in many cases they've had to do far more work for me. The woman who dresses my Whopper (something hard to say without snickering) and the man who salts my fries (not nearly as double entendre friendly) arguably work harder than someone who pours me a cup of coffee, yet they make no effort to receive a tip. They simply man their post and provide the requested service.

Perhaps the answer here, at least in my wife's eyes, is to start offering a tip to the fine folks who serve me at fast food places other than Starbucks. Or better yet, maybe I just need to lay off the cheeseburgers and coffee.

Oh, Grant...

Grant started swim lessons this week, but I'll let Bret blog about that craziness. Let's just say that there's always one child screaming his head off. This week--that's my boy! We have pictures and such, so more to come.

But for now, here is a video of Grant talking about one of his favorite topics: dinosaurs. Grant loves dinosaurs, Star Wars, and Batman, but I think dinos (he makes me say dinosaur; he doesn't like abbreviated words [same with mayo]) are the current favorite.

Your Husband Has Too Much...

time on his hands when he asks you (you, who is still working) if you "happened to catch Regis and Kelly this morning." No, no, I did not.

Grant Does the Propellor

"Look Daddy, I'm Batman!"
(And yes, he came up with that on his own...)

So we're at the tail end of what we believe to be our 2nd case of the flu this year. Three of the four of us has had fevers, sore throats...the whole nine yards. But despite his illness, each night about an hour after the Tylenol, Grant would begin to dance. Please ignore the various tubes of ointment on the floor around him. We're a house in distress.

The Children's Museum

There's not a ton of stuff in Indy that is enviable. There are no great scenic views. No mountains.

We've got the Colts. We've got Hoosier basketball (kind of). And, we have the world renowned Children's Museum.

Here are a few pics.

A Windy Day at the Park

And now back...

to our regularly scheduled programing...

oh, and the pacifier is just a toy. Trust me, if she'd take it, I'd let her have it until she was 15 (if it'd stop the screaming), but alas, it's just a bath toy!

Complete Video Geekout

Fair warning -- this entry is not for the faint of heart. This is going to be a whole lot of geeky crap that nobody in our family will really care about. My only purpose in writing it is to document what I've discovered in the past few weeks, and perhaps it will help someone else who's trying to do something similar. You've been warned.

As I mentioned a while back, I've begun streaming shows to our Samsung LED TV, which is DLNA capable. This allows us to easily select a movie on our PC, right click on "Play To" and select the TV. It's great when we need a few minutes to get ready in the morning, and we want the kids to watch a few minutes of something. And it's easier than resetting the PC to output to the TV, using it as a monitor. The DLNA stuff just spits the movie over the network and plays the movie on the TV automatically. No channel changing, no video card settings, nothing. It just works.

This worked so well, that I decided to also do something similar with our TiVo. I wanted a program to stream DVDs to our TiVo without actually downloading the movie to the box. (Downloading is fine, but it's slow and fills up the already tight hard drive on the TiVo.)

I discovered a great piece of add-on software for the TiVo called Streambaby. This allows me to do exactly what I wanted -- stream DVDs and movie files to the TiVo. This is a great find, because it allows us to not need the actual DVD discs for the kids to watch their movies. I can box the DVDs up and never find them on the kitchen floor covered with peanut butter ever again.

So what I did initially was create a DVD image of each movie using DVDFab. I then used either VOB2MPG or VideoReDo to create an MPEG file of the DVD movie. I could then stream this MPEG-2 file (including the Dolby Digital surround sound) to the TiVo, and it worked great with the DLNA on the other TV. I would also use Handbrake to create an H.264/MPEG-4 file with AAC audio for the iPods using the iPod preset. (There's really no way to create one version of each movie which looks good on a 61" TV and a 3" iPod. This doesn't really bother me though, as the iPod files are very small in the end.)

The downside is that this process takes up tons of hard drive space -- several GBs per movie. And while I'd love to keep perfect images of all of our DVDs, I really don't have the money to buy scads of hard drives for our DVDs and CDs. So I need to compress.

I decided to start converting the original MPEG-2 DVD files for the TVs into H.264 files using Handbrake, similar to what I do for the iPods. Only I would use a different level of compression so that the videos still look great on the big screen. I also decided that I still wanted to preserve the Dolby Digital (AC3) surround sound, so I used "AC3 passthrough" mode rather than converting the audio to AAC, as one would usually do in an MPEG-4 file.

Since I started doing this, I've encountered several problems. The first was that I have some DVDs with 2 channel LPCM audio. What I discovered is that the TiVo can't play LPCM audio, so I needed to convert this to something else usable, namely AAC. This worked great.

The second problem I discovered is that I could not play my new MPEG-4 videos with AC3 using the DLNA features of our Samsung TV. In researching this, I discovered that Windows Media Player would play the video, but not the audio in these files. Apparently using AC3 within an MPEG-4 file is a somewhat strange configuration. It was started by Apple who packaged movies in iTunes this way, but now it's becoming more common.

In looking for a way around this, I knew that Streambaby on the TiVo would only look at the first audio track in a file, so this HAD to be the AC3 track if I wanted my surround sound. So I got clever and tried using Handbrake to put the AC3 track first and also add a second AAC audio track to each file to make the DLNA stuff (and Media Player) happy. I thought this had worked great, as the files played fine in Media Player. But unfortunately the Samsung TV still wouldn't accept the file. D'oh.

In the end, what I've decided to do is use AAC audio on DVDs without surround sound -- lots of kids movies are just good old stereo, so this is fine and plays on everything. For the bigger productions which feature surround sound, I'm sticking to my MPEG-4/H.264 with AC3 sound. This works great on the TiVo, and if they want to watch these on the Samsung TV in the other room, they can do so by playing the movie out to the TV using the TV as a monitor. It's not as convenient as using the DLNA connection, but it works.

So for anyone who is interested, here is my basic command line in Handbrake for creating Streambaby-capable movies for the TiVo:

handbrakeCLI -i "Kids Movie.mpg" -f mp4 -O -e x264 -b 2000 -a 1 -E ac3
-x ref=2:bframes=2:me=umh --strict-anamorphic -v -o "Kids Movie.mp4"

Basically this says, "Take the MPEG-2 file, use H.264 to compress it at 2000 kb/s (because the TiVo likes a constant bitrate), optimize it for streaming, pass along the AC3 surround sound, and spit out a shiny, new MPEG-4 file." The only real variations on this are changing the "ac3" to "faac" for the 2-channel stereo movies where I want to use AAC, and if the movie was originally NOT widescreen, I take out the "--strict-anamorphic." I won't go into what that means, but you can read about it here.

In the end, this compresses my movies by more than 50%, and they still look perfect on the TiVo. I could probably even reduce the 2000 kb/s to something smaller, but much like my music, I'd rather not see/hear any reminders that I've compressed my files.

Hopefully eventually the Samsung TV will let me pass an MPEG-4 file using AC3 audio, and this solution will work perfectly for every scenario. But for now, it works with Streambaby on the TiVo, which is where I need it to work 99% of the time.

And the kids can always watch the 2-channel stereo files via DLNA on the Samsung TV, or use the Samsung TV as a monitor for the other files by playing them using a video player (like VLC) which can play MPEG-4 files using AC3 audio. Either way, I can make this configuration work for any movie.

Hopefully some other poor schmuck will find this via Google and save himself some time. And if you read through this looking for pictures of the kids, don't say I didn't warn you.

Week One

If you see a guy on your street out washing, waxing, and detailing a giant white Kia mini-van that looks like it should belong to the Disabilities Ministry at the local church, it's a good bet that he's unemployed.

So far this week, I've weeded all the flower beds, cleaned up Erin's van, and done a host of other household chores that have been getting the brush off. Erin's van was, by far, the largest task. It took almost three hours to get the outside looking decent. After that was completed, I opened the doors and began work on the "under seat buffet" that is always present in our cars. The special this week was raisins, fruit gummies, and three month old milk. It was delightful.

When Erin got home from work, she asked, "Did you happen to find my iPod in there?" Alas, the iPod is still MIA. I suspect it is being enjoyed by whatever youth discovered it sitting all alone someplace, waiting to be picked up. Hopefully they're a fan of 90's indie rock. If so, they hit the jackpot.

In between projects, the job hunt is progressing, albeit slowly. For now, I'm just going to enjoy the break.

So, an unemployed couple walks into a bar...

Since it's now official, I guess we can let everyone in on what's going on with us. As many of you know, Erin and I made the decision a while back that Erin should stay home next year with the kids. We just felt like it was the right time, and with plans for a third at some point, we figured we should quit dumping money into day care sooner than later. So several weeks ago, Erin didn't renew her teaching contract for next year.

Additionally, many of you know that my job has been somewhat unsteady for a long time. But finally today, after working for essentially the same company (under various names) for 16 years, I was let go.

So, does anyone have any suggestions for what an unemployed couple with two kids can do? Our answer, in the short term, is to enjoy some time as a family. We have a trip to the beach coming in a few weeks, and who knows after that. I've been blessed, yet again, to be given a financial parachute that will last us for a little while...hopefully long enough to find a good job, wherever that may be.

In the mean time, I've been brainstorming some ideas for Erin & me, since we're both unemployed as of this summer:

1. Comedy Duo -- Nothing is funnier than watching a couple try to make it on stage when there is a slight undercurrent of uneasiness (see Sonny & Cher after the divorce).

2. Ice Cream Truck or Hot Dog Cart -- For ages, I've said that either of these things could make it in the large office park where I curr, er, used to work. I think this is our big chance.

3. Open a CD Store -- I realize that the use of a physical medium for music distribution, such as the CD, is going the way of the dinosaur, but we could live for a while selling off the extra copies of each Beach Boys or Kinks album that I have in my collection. Or at least we should recycle the plastic.

4. Late Night Office Cleaning Team -- Now I realize that my fear of germs would prevent me from doing most of the cleaning, so that would fall to Erin, but I could straighten the chairs in the conference room and empty the occasional trash can. Perhaps I could even do this for my old company. For a fee.

In reality, we're glad that one of our big unknowns is finally a known and that we can start moving forward with our lives. And what better time of year to get to spend some extra time together. We know the rest of the loose ends will come together in their time.

Sorry So Slow

Sorry that it's been such a slow week on here. The reality is that we have LOTS of things going on, not the least of which is enjoying the beautiful spring weather.

There are big changes coming for us, but I can't really update everyone just yet. Lots of unknowns and lots of unanswered questions. Hopefully by next week I'll be able to do a more complete post. My doctor informed me yesterday that you can get a time line for what's going on with me right now from a chart of my blood pressure over the past two weeks. Nice.

Beautiful Days

After the hardest winter in Indiana (at least that I can remember), we're enjoying gorgeous days. Here are a few pics!

Conversation with Grant

Grant: Mommy, jiggle for me.
Mommy: What?
Grant: Jiggle for me.

Mommy does crazy jiggle dance.

Grant: No, not that. Jiggle for me.
Mommy: What do you mean? Like this?

Mommy does another crazy jiggle dance.

Grant: Not like that. With the oranges.
Mommy: Do you mean juggle?
Grant: Yeah, juggle for me.

Ah.

A Few Pics from Easter Morning

The morning started off with a few goodies and an egg hunt around the living room.

Here's Grant sporting his new fishing puzzle game.

'

Here's Grace with her prized possession: jelly beans!

Here are the cuties before church!

Shaving Overkill

A few days ago, I wrote a quick blog on Get Real Family regarding the gear I use when shaving. Admittedly, this doesn't seem like a very interesting topic, and I suspect the majority of Erin's readership simply sighed and muttered, "It's a shame that girl married such a loser."

But then last week, I made an additional shaving related discovery that has proven that I am only a micro-geek in the shaving universe -- Badger and Blade. This is an entire web universe devoted to old-timey shaving gear and a new brand of officiando dubbed the "retrosexual." Egads.

I called Erin immediately and informed her that I wanted some of the stuff they were discussing on the site. She asked how much time I'd spent reading the site that day and when I wouldn't tell her, she assumed the worst.

Even more frightening was the discovery of this dude codenamed "mantic59." He has a "shaving journal" and a series of shaving videos on YouTube.

Personally, I found all of mantic59's info highly valuable, and I picked up some tips for my own shaving. But I did feel sort of funny spending an hour watching this dude shave himself, nicks and all. I fear that perhaps this puts me in the same creepy league as people who dress up as animals and groom each other.

And finally, I was most intrigued by multiple discussions on Badger & Blade's forums regarding "wet shaver meet-ups" at various locations around the country. What exactly goes on at one of these deals? Is that a code name for something I don't get? Does BYOB suddenly mean "bring your own blades?"

Hard at Work

On Tuesday, Grant (upon getting out sidewalk chalk for the first time all year) said, "So much to do, so little time." Maybe he's heard Mommy say that a time or two (or 436).

Pic to come.

Game Changer

So, I've got some--hmmm--interesting news. Let's see if you can guess it...

Here are some clues:

1. It's nine letters
2. I just talked to my obgyn about it
3. It does crazy things to my body (and, I mean crazy!)
4. It's not something I expected, at least not at this stage
5. My body might get back to normal in October

Any guesses?


That's right, you guessed it...

I


AM


GOING


TO


HAVE


A






























MELTDOWN!

... because I am going through MENOPAUSE (there are your nine letters)! Yep, that's right, I'm going through a state of forced menopause (thanks to a monthly injection) for the next 8 months! I just had a whole series of night sweats two nights ago (not fun); the mood swings haven't been too bad yet (though, I feel full freedom to blame any misspeak on said hormone fluctuations), but the exhaustion... oh, the exhaustion (though, that might be two toddlers, both of whom are sick, and often up through the night)!

So, I am one of the few lucky women who will get to go through menopause twice. At least, I might know what to expect the second time around. Gotta go--a hot flash is a comin'.

Weekend Sayings

Friday was sort of dreary in Central Indiana, with some light spring showers putting a gray haze over everything. At breakfast, Erin opened the curtains revealing this situation, which Grant immediately declared "Boooooring."

This weekend we took it easy and tried to heal up from the various colds that have continued to plague our family. We watched the basketball games, continuing to cheer for the Butler Bulldogs and favorite Brownsburg son, Gordon Hayward.

Last night, I stopped and picked up Papa John's pizza on my way home from the gym. (Nothing says "dedication" like ordering an extra large pizza on your cell phone while toweling off the elliptical machine.)

When I got home with it, I immediately tore into the garlic butter and bread sticks. I realize that the garlic butter is a bad way to go in social situations, but in the privacy of my own home, I indulge. A little while later, Grant crawled up into my lap and immediately said, "Daddy, what's that terrible smell in your mouth?" Thanks.

Finally last night, Erin was giving Grant a bear hug before bed, requiring him to buy his way out of it by "saying what mommy wants to hear." I suggested several release phrases to Grant during this interaction, including "Fine...I'll clean your stupid van out myself!" and "I'll put the seat up in the middle of the night next time, I promise!" But Grant decided to choose his own path.

He started with "Go Bulldogs!" which he learned during the ballgames. He then tried "Go Colts!" And finally, he landed on "I love you!" in exasperation. There's nothing quite like strangling the affection from your child.

This morning, Grant informed us that he was excited to go back to day care, having spent the last week with mommy on spring break. He then told us that he planned to continue teaching the other children the "savages song" from Pocahontas. Click here to see the lyrics. Perhaps this isn't the song we want Grant teaching other children outside of the context of the film......

Things You See On the Road

I took a long walk in a not-so-great neighborhood today. Erin's van ("Big Whitey" for the uninitiated) is getting ready to go out of warranty, so I took it down to get some minor repairs done during my lunch hour. It was only going to take an hour, so I thought I would dump it, find food, and return.

Unfortunately the dealership is in a somewhat downcast area in Indy (38th and Lafayette, if you're a local). If providing my location, it could have been triangulated by two strip clubs and a Hooters.

I knew I could find food close by, so I wasn't worried about having to walk too far, and frankly, I kind of miss all the walking I do in China, so I was sort of looking forward to it.

What I discovered in the couple of miles I walked is that humans leave a lot of weird crap strewn about. Here are just a few things I took notice of while walking.

1. There were several giant parking lots that were just surrounded by fencing and going unused. Based on the area, I suspect these were all car lots, and given the state of the economy and the ability of automakers to build cars with brakes that work, these lots are now vacant. It seems odd that there's nothing you can do with these giant spaces. Perhaps a break testing track could be built.

2. Gas station food wrappers. I've rarely seen anyone eat the hot dogs, corn dogs, burritos, and deli sandwiches available in gas stations, but on my walk, I saw wrappers for these very items everywhere.

3. Clothing. I saw an old pair of shoes in a new shoe box. Underpants. Lots of socks. Knit caps. More underpants. How do old clothes end up on urban streets? I doubt I want to know. And why do only men who wear tighty whities lose their underpants in the street? There were no nice boxers or women's underwear, only underwear that looked like it might have been worn by Abe Vigoda on Barney Miller.

4. Lots of plastic baggies. Again, this probably falls under the "I don't want to know" category, but I saw dozens of Ziploc bags with unidentifiable contents.

The urban junk you see in China is far different. Lots of food products -- orange rinds, apple cores...an occasional fish head. But not so much underpants. Very strange.

A Conversation with Grace

Considering she heard Mandarin for the first 14 months of her life (and she's only been in the states for 7 months or so), I think Grace's language skills are amazing. She knows more English in 7 months than I would Mandarin!

Sorry for the poor quality; I don't have time to wait around while a better version uploads!

Cincinnati Getaway

For Christmas, Erin and I received a gift card from BedAndBreakfast.com from Erin’s parents. The goal was to give Erin and me a breather from Grant’s questions and Grace’s diapers, while allowing my in-laws the opportunity to watch the kids.

An unfortunate side effect of my father-in-law’s recent surgery is that we didn’t think it prudent to leave our two crazies with a man who recently received more bypasses than are present within the whole of the U.S. interstate system, therefore we dumped the kids with my parents and headed to Cincinnati for the weekend.

We left Friday after work, and as usual, I had researched several restaurants for dinner along our path to Cincy. I have learned that my best option is to select a variety of places at evenly spaced intervals, so if we get hungry, we are always within striking distance of food. In this case, we made it all the way to Cincy and Maury’s Tiny Cove.

I had wanted to try Maury’s during our last several trips to Cincy, but it had never worked out. The descriptions online made me think it would be my kind of place – good food, whacked atmosphere. This turned out to be mostly true.

Maury’s is covered in wood paneling and features no windows. It sort of gave you the feeling that there could be an Al Capone-style shootout eliminating everything on two legs in the place, and it would take the cops a few days to discover the bodies.

Erin was especially intrigued by the collection of bulls that were featured around the top of the dining room. We learned, mostly through eavesdropping, that Maury’s is on its fourth owner. Apparently the current owner digs the funky interior, which I can understand.

There were crackers, butter, and thick cut pickles on the table prior to our meal. We were disappointed that the crackers were never replaced by bread, so in retaliation, I ate all the Captain’s Wafers and left a pile of Saltine’s in their place.

The menu was the usual for a steakhouse – steaks, burgers, and some random seafood. Erin and I both ordered steaks, which in the end were quite tasty. I was sure that I was doomed though when our salads arrived prior to the steaks. The salads consisted of shredded lettuce, a big no-no in Erin-world. We both ordered the House dressing, which made the salad taste basically like a giant bowl of coleslaw. I was pleasantly surprised when our steaks made up for this egregious error.

After dinner, we made our way to the Six Acres Bed and Breakfast on the old Northside of Cincinnati – an area whose recent tourism campaign "Next Stop: The Morgue" was a dismal failure. We had an extremely difficult time using our gift card from BedAndBreakfast.com, and Six Acres wasn’t actually our first choice, but in the end, it turned out to be a good experience.

The B&B is comprised of two old houses, and the place is run by a delightful woman who provided us with a couple of hours of very interesting conversation on Saturday morning. She also baked us fresh brownies and served a wonderful breakfast, so she could have essentially spit on me by the time we left, and all would have been forgiven.

After our arrival on Friday night, we ventured out to the Sidewinder coffee shop for dessert and a night cap. We returned to the B&B and did what any self respecting couple does in the bedroom at a B&B with no kids around – watched the NCAA tournament.

On Saturday, we ventured out to our favorite place in Cincinnati – IKEA. In reality, we don’t like IKEA THAT much, but we did have some cheap, European furniture needs, so we made a stop. Personally, I enjoy what I am sure are the fake Swedish names given to all of IKEA’s products – a cup called “DRINKENBOTTLE” or a lamp called “STICKOLIGHTEN.”

I also appreciate that IKEA has found a way to make even the most basic piece of furniture require 600 screws to assemble with an Allen wrench the size of your pinkie. Their instructions feature little genderless beings helping each other pick up heavy objects and read the instructions to each other. Nowhere does it show them hurling large pieces of press board into the street in anger or un-assembling and re-assembling the same bookshelf three times until the piece with six holes on the left and four holes on the right is on the INSIDE of the bookshelf. This would make the illustrations far more accurate.

After purchasing a few things that we had not planned to purchase, we made a quick stop at Jungle Jim’s before heading back toward Indianapolis. In an effort to extend our getaway, we made a brief stop at Indiana Downs. Erin assured me that there were at least two machines at Indiana Downs that were guaranteed to pay out. In the end, she was probably correct, only they were guaranteed to pay out to somebody else.

We had a quick dinner, watched the Butler v. Murray St. ballgame and headed to pick up the kids. We both marvel each time we get away at a) how much we miss the kids and b) how easy it is to shop without them. You forget just how many times you say, “Grant, do not touch that” or “Grace, get back over here” or “Honestly sir, I didn’t think she’d actually use it like a real potty” when shopping with kids. All in all, it was a lovely weekend getaway.


We love our kids, but we were excited to drive several hours without back seat companions!



Our bed and breakfast: you should have seen the before pics!




The clock at wake up time. It was the greatest gift to wake up naturally... without kid involvement.

Talking

Grant has entered that phase of life during which he talks. All. The. Time.

It's constant. Without ceasing. He's very polite and well behaved, but his quest to understand the universe around him through endless inquiry is wearing down his parents (who quite frankly don't have a clue as to how to answer most of his questions).

A couple of days ago, as we got into the minivan (a place where he's guaranteed to have to duke it out with momma for ear time with daddy), I explained to him very calmly that he didn't need to talk 100% of the time. I told him that there were times when he would need to be quiet, and now was one of those times. He very calmly replied, "OK daddy. Some day I'll understand you." Thanks.

In addition to being without end, his questions frequently leave me unable to even make up a good answer. Some sample exchanges:

"Daddy, what color is that car?"
"Blue."
"Do you like blue?"
"Yes, blue is a nice color, Grant."
"Have you ever seen a blue dinosaur?"
"Nope."
"But why?"

---------

"Daddy, have you ever seen 'Star Wars'?" (A movie his mother won't let him see until after high school graduation, no doubt.)
"Yep, I've seen it."
"Where did you see it?"
"I don't really remember. Probably at home."
"Why did you see it there?"
"Because that's where I was."
"I saw it in Africa when I was older. Have you ever been to Africa?"
"Nope."
"Why?"

---------

"Daddy, do you like my train?"
"Yes, it's a neat train that makes neat sounds."
"Have you ever seen it?"
"Yes, that's how I know it makes neat sounds."
"Why have you seen it?"

(Daddy's brain explodes.)

Grace is also starting to wade into the speaking pool. She only has a few complete sentences, but they serve her well. "Get away from me," "I want that," and "Serve me, infidel" are three of her favorites.

Her other favorite thing right now is to sing. She sings in the car all the time. Mostly she sings the melody of various songs and just mumbles gibberish for the words. My favorite is that she sings the "A, B, C's" using all "zh" and "c" sounds.

"zh zh zh zh zh zh zh"
"shir shir shir shir shir shir shir shir shir"
"ch ch ch ch ch ch"
"zh zh zh zh zh zh"

Unfortunately this letter substitution occurs frequently with Grace. "Milk" is "Mop," "Coat" is "Coke" and most unfortunate is what she calls her "Sock" (I'll give you a hint...it rhymes with "Sock" but it ain't a sock.)

Grant can actually sing very well now, when he slows down to do so. Just last week, they sang a bunch of Beatles tunes at day care. It only took us an additional week to convince Grant that the Beatles 1968 hit single was NOT, in fact, called "Hey Jew." Kids...

Potty Training Seats

We're quickly approaching the point of ditching the diapers with our dear Grace. She was pretty well potty trained when we got her in China, but we didn't finish the job then, so we need to now. It's a little embarrassing when your kid squats down and makes a "pooh" sound with her lips in the middle of a shopping center.

One of the many dilemmas with Grace's potty training is that she refuses to sit on the toilet without a training seat of some sort installed. Upstairs it's a little puffy seat with some Sesame Street characters; downstairs it's a plain plastic seat with a little plastic guard on the front for keeping boys from hosing down the wallpaper while seated.

I'm fine with her using these, and I understand Grace's fear of falling into the bowl (a problem I never had, since my rear was larger than the toilet seat by the time I entered Kindergarten.) My issue is that when I need to make a quick visit to the bathroom in our house, I have to maneuver around these blasted training seats. (And no, I'm not talking about when I need to take a seat. That would be a fate that the poor Sesame Street characters don't deserve.)

My initial thought is to just leave the training seat in place, as I really don't like picking the seat up and moving it. (Frequently the undersides of these things look a little too truck stop for my tastes.) The only problem is that the toilet is now a little bit like those hoops at the carnival. You know the ones -- they're just big enough to put a basketball through, but they're definitely not regulation. This is what happens with the toilet. Suddenly I've got a real challenge on my hands. (And let's not talk about what happens when nature calls in the middle of the night. Poor little Big Bird and Elmo get hit with an occasional monsoon.)

To make matters worse, Grant is now asking for me to teach him how to go while standing up. It's hard enough to get Grant to stand still for ANYTHING, but if he has to stand still AND have good aim, we might as well give up now and install one of those stainless steel "walls 'o wee wee" like they have in stadiums. The cleanup would be easier.

Update

My Dad (Erin) had 5 bypasses and part of his aorta replaced, but he made it. He has a steep climb to recovery in front of him, but we are grateful to God and to those of you who partnered with us in prayer.

Erin's Dad

My Dad is undergoing major (up to six bypasses and an artery replacement) heart surgery tomorrow, and while he is healthy and young, we would sure covet your prayers. I'll keep you posted.

This is all very unexpected, so we're trying to cope quickly with all the change. Your prayers for him, his doctors, his recovery and the rest of my family would be so very appreciated.

Kid's Zone

There's a church a few minutes from our house that has a giant, indoor, public play area for kids called the Kid's Zone. It features a very large structure comprised of tubes, tunnels, a play house, and a big swirly slide, all suspended up in the air. You have to climb in one of two towers to get up inside the thing, but once you're up there, you have lots of stuff to do.

Grant has steadfastly refused to have anything to do with this structure. He loves kicking the balls around the rest of the gym, but once whoever he's playing with heads for the slide or playhouse up in the tower, he's out.

A few weeks ago, I was able to get him to climb up inside the tower, but once he got up there, he was terrified. It took me 20 minutes to "unstick" myself from the inside of the tower, but then once I got out, I had to endure watching Grant yell at me to come retrieve him. I delayed just long enough to give him time to pee everywhere. Nothing's more embarrassing than having to sneak out of a church due to public urination.

This time, I thought things would go better. A couple of nights ago, Grant informed me just before bed time that he was ready to go up in the tower at the Kid's Zone. I was thrilled. So yesterday, we made a return trip.

Upon arrival, there were several issues. First off, there was a lady in rubber gloves spreading saw dust around the adult seating area. Apparently one of the kids had lost their lunch, and the cleanup had begun. The thought of some pukey kid dragging her germs throughout the play equipment was bad enough, but then I looked up at the slide and saw some kid with his underpants around his ankles, scooting around on the equipment. Couple this with the fact that the last time we were at the Kid's Zone, another kid (not mine) had peed in the playhouse forcing its closure, and I was having a germ meltdown. The Kid's Zone was more like the Hot Zone.

Reluctantly, Grant and I made our way into the tower. Grant was not happy, and he kept trying to stall. Once the two of us got wedged up inside the thing, he decided he was even less pleased and forced me to sit with him on my lap as other small children ran past. I kept hearing things like, "There's a man in the tower!" and "Some giant kid is stuck in there."

After much stalling, Grant finally started climbing around the thing. After playing up there for a while, I made my way back in to meet him and go down the slide. This took a LOT of pushing. As I climbed up the final portion of the structure to get onto the slide, I realized, "Man, this is REALLY high." It wouldn't have been bad, but I'm fairly certain that the structure was not meant to hold a 6' tall adult, plus I was wedged in the thing. It was highly claustrophobic.

Eventually I shoved Grant down the slide, and as I followed after him, I discovered that the combination of my jeans and the plastic were creating some wicked static electricity. I'm sure if my iPod had been in my pocket, it would have been toast. At one point my foot touched Grant's face and a giant arc appeared. He was not pleased.

In the end, we were successful in getting Grant to face his fears, but I'm not convinced that he'll be asking for a return trip to the Kid's Zone any time soon.

Check Your Head

I have been informed by the management that my entries have become bitter and cynical, and that if I don't pick it up, I'm going to have to find a new publisher. So here's one about ramming your head into things.

In the past 72 hours, three of the four members of our household have rammed their heads into various things around our house. (Let the record show that she whose head has not yet been bashed is the same individual who's griping about my blog writing abilities.)

It started a couple of nights ago when I was doing dishes. I opened the cupboard door above our dishwasher to put some glasses away, bent down to get more clean glasses, and then BAM. Full speed with the top of my head into the corner of the newly opened cabinet door. The corner dug in and then dragged along my scalp a little ways, insuring maximum bloodletting.

As the kids watched, I danced and jumped around the first level of our house, all the while holding my head and yelling everything that wasn't an obscenity. At one point, I yelled, "This is gonna be a mess!" based on the excruciating pain.

Strangely, I kept waiting for the inevitable gush of blood, but it never came. I took a look in the bathroom mirror, and I couldn't even SEE where I had cut myself. Erin, in between fits of giggling, was able to locate the gash, but unfortunately it wasn't nearly as severe as my dancing and shouting had indicated. In the end, it did leave a whopper of a knot, and I can no longer lay the right side of my scalp against a pillow (or my desk).

Not 24 hours later, Grace lost her footing due to a book left on the faux-wood floor in our kitchen and introduced her forehead to the corner of the wall. Wailing ensued, but again, no blood.

And finally, Grant snagged the corner of the banister on the top of his head last night. I couldn't have been more proud, as he danced and wailed...just like his old man. The only difference was that Grant's dance also involved the use of a sword, as most things do with him these days.

So that's three heads in three days. So honey, to quote Cheap Trick, -- tonight it's you.

Keep Away

This is a warning to all of our friends, family, and people who might get within 10 feet of our children at a shopping mall, grocery store, day care, or church:

PLEASE STAY AWAY FROM OUR KIDS!

We can't take it any more. Yet again, Grant and Grace have low grade fevers and colds. Yet again, my Tivo remote and surrounding furniture are covered in a thin veil of snot. Once more, I am forced to listen to my two precious children hack and cough all night, forcing me out of my own much needed beauty rest.

So please, help a family out, and stay the heck away from us. If you have kids, and you think they might have a cold or have had one in the last, let's say, five years, stay away. If you've recently touched a sick person or have ever known a sick person, stay away. If you've ever handled anything like a door knob in a public place -- stay away. If you yourself have ever needed a Kleenex, for any reason, please, stay away.

Just give us a chance to heal for more than two weeks this time. Please? PLEASE?! We're begging you. Grant and Grace are really going to hate living in a plastic bubble in the garage.

Grouchy Old Man

Grant informed me as I dropped him off at daycare this morning that mommy and I "needed to go back to China to get him some more brothers and sisters." I don't know whether this should be taken as an endorsement of Grace, who in alternating moments loves Grant to pieces and shrieks at him endlessly, or if he thinks, "Surely if they take another shot, they'll get one that doesn't scream all day." In any case, it was a sweet gesture.

In other news, I was glad to see the end of the Olympics last night. Erin thinks I'm becoming grouchy in my old age, but I find the Olympics to be increasingly depressing. First off, in order to win an Olympic medal, you have to practice continuously for years on end, starting at 18 months after birth. An Olympic medal is really a testament to allowing sports-induced OCD to take over your life.

Second, the behavior of the athletes seems to be increasingly distasteful. You have speed skaters berating their coaches for mistakes (albeit costly ones...in terms of endorsements, no doubt), snowboarders not being bright enough to get out of the limelight before allowing pictures to be taken of yourself in compromising positions, and hockey chicks getting drunk (underage, no less) in the very arena where they just played. I doubt this behavior is anything new, but it certainly seems like our current batch of Olympians doesn't even have the good sense to do stupid things in private where NBC isn't following them, taping for a "Today" show segment.

And finally, it annoys me that many of these athletes are filthy rich. Erin and I watched a segment where Shawn White was showing off his car which cost more than our house, Apolo Ohno was in a commercial for cold medicine every 10 minutes, and the announcers repeatedly stated that Kim Yu-Na (nicknamed "Queen" Yu-Na, no doubt because of her easy-to-work-with nature) is the most famous person in South Korea.

I know there are many exceptions to these rules, but if I want to watch overpaid athletes who act like spoiled children in their down time, I can watch the NBA. And I don't care to do that either. Grouchy old man mode set to...OFF.

Now bring back that NBC prime time lineup so that I can go back to ignoring it as well. (This post might be an indicator of the need for a vacation...or at least for the temperature to go "above freezing.")

Too Cute

Here are just some of the pics from our Target photo shoot this afternoon. Aside from the fact that Grant has snot crusties under his nose, I think we did okay. There are some goofy ones... I try to buy the ones that capture (as much as a $50 Target session can) their personalities.

Are my kids cute or what? What's your favorite pic?

1. "I don't think I like this."

2. Doesn't quite look like her... what do you think?
3. Despite the snot, this is my favorite; it looks the most like my boy.
4. Cracking each other up!
5. off in space!
6. One of two Easter dress options (price tag new: $3.30)
7. My favorite of Grace; the one that looks the most like her (in my opinion).
8. Eats the camera up!
9. This is a common pic around our house. At least, Grace isn't screaming!
10. Crazy toes.
10. Too angelic. Not quite our firecracker!
11. Creepers
12. She thinks she's so funny!
13. Little man!
14. He's just too cute!
15. Love it!
16. Sweetness
17. Goofy boy
18. Hmmm...
19. Our two sweeties!
20.