Hair: All a Dad Really Needs

19 03 2010
  • My four year old daughter’s first words to me this morning were, “I love you Dad.”  After returning the sentiment, I asked what it is she likes about me. She said, after a moment’s pause, “Your hair looks good.”  If only I’d known it could be so simple.  I could have saved myself the stress of worrying about being a good role model, setting boundaries and providing some tough love when necessary.  All I really needed was to make sure I have enough hair gel.
  • Cheating on Sandra Bullock is kind of like having a brand new Porsche and thinking, “This car just isn’t good enough.”
  • Hurray for the “little guy.”  Go Murray State and Ohio University.  Keep up the good work in the NCAA tournament!
  • I’m so thankful for my wonderful family.  I had lunch with most of late mother’s sisters and one of her brothers and one of my cousins this past week.  They are wonderful, open-hearted people, and it’s like being able to have lunch with my mom again.  Like many whose parents have passed, I wish I would have had lunch with my mom more often than I did as an adult (especially if she had made it…mmm!), but there are so many similarities between my mother and her sisters that I feel blessed to have the aunts still in my life.  (One of them gave me some holy water to use on my swollen legs, which I thought was very touching!
  • I love that spring is near and that it is sunny and 70 degrees here today.  Cardinal baseball can’t be too far away.
  • I resisted the Facebook craze for a long time and still find myself annoyed at status updates like, “I’ve been cleaning my floors today” or messages giving me the thrilling news that someone scored 8 billion points on a game called “Pork N Bean Shuffle.”  However, I am really enjoying a couple of rekindled high school friendships and am thankful to Facebook for them.  With all the crappy news we hear every day, it’s nice to know there are still some good people out there.




Technology Is Scary Unless You’re 4

1 02 2010

Saying that my four-year-old daughter does not come from a long line of technologically advanced people is an understatement.  I offer the following true stories as proof.

In the early nineties, I acquired my first personal home computer of my very own.  It was exciting, but I felt a little intimidated.  I know that I resisted going to any sites such as Playboy.com for the first few days.  At some point, however, it was time to find out what all the internet fuss was about.  Fate played a cruel trick on me that day with a strike of malicious, unfortunate timing.  Not more than ten seconds after going to such a site for the first time, I received my first on-screen message of “Your computer has performed an illegal operation and must shut down.”  I now know this has nothing to do with the government or decency laws.  At the time, however, I experienced momentary panic and even unplugged my computer.  I thought the police had been watching my online movements.  I realized a little later that I was just being an idiot.  Years later, I admitted this faux pas to a couple of friends and learned that I am not alone.  One friend’s father was once trying to play some sort of online game when he received this message.  He ended up hiding in his garage, thinking law enforcement was on the way to grab him.  This made me feel slightly better.

But back to my blood relatives.  My own mother and father were very afraid of technology.  One time, many years ago when I still lived at home, a twenty-something family member had come over from his apartment to use my parents’ hose and driveway to wash his car.  He left his beeper (yes, this was back in beeper/pager days) on my parents’ table.  It’s unfortunate that I was not home and that he was outside when the beeper went off.  My parents were alarmed and first did not realize from where the beeping was coming.  Once they located the thing, they of course had absolutely no idea what it was and grew nervous.  Long story short, they literally picked it up gently and set it in the middle of the back yard in case it was “going to explode or something.”  At some point later, my other family member came in and asked if my parents knew where his beeper was, thus solving the mystery.

Once I moved away from home, I had to return there any time the power had gone out because their VCR would reset in such a way that their cable tv was no longer coming in.  There was a better chance of my mother accidentally discovering a cure for cancer while making chicken and dumplings than there was of them being able to navigate the VCR menu and fix the settings.  I’m hoping that either Heaven is technology free or that you get some fantastic tutorial from St. Peter himself upon arrival or they may be floundering around up there.

I have an older sister who just recently added texting to her cell phone usage.  She sent me her first trial text (which took her about a day to “type out”), and I responded with what I thought was a very simple reply, just to let her know I received it.  I sent, “Texting rules!” back to her, as in “Texting is cool” or “Texting is good.”   I did not hear back from her but instead ran into her at a grocery store the next day.  She said, “Oh, it wouldn’t let me read the text you sent back. I think it thought there was something lewd in your text…it said something about breaking texting rules.”  It took me a second before I realized what had happened.  She thought my statement of “Texting rules!” was some sort of warning from her cell phone company police.  So, I explained it to her.  I want to make it clear that these are intelligent, sensible people otherwise.

So, you would think my daughter would be in trouble when it comes to technology.  However, she is not.  I think maybe God decided to add some technology savvy into the DNA for any children born after, say, 1985.  She seems to inherently understand devices.  She can easily navigate through my mp3 player to use album cover art to pick the song she wants.  I gave her a used digital camera to play with, and it took her no time at all to figure out how to switch between photos and recording moving video.  I’m telling you; I dread the day when she can read everything on the tv guide screen because I’m never again going to get to watch anything other than children’s animated shows once that happens.  I’m considering holding her back from kindergarten for just that very reason!  Then again, I should send her because you never know when my laptop could stop working, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll know how to fix it.





One Screwy Year Later

29 01 2010

I’m no blog expert, but I’m pretty sure it’s poor blog management when you “disappear” and pen nothing new in three months, six months, nine months, or (choking gasp) nearly one full year.  I have been charged with the following offenses:  Blog abandonment, neglect of a diary-like webspace, and being a blog-block.  I am here to readily admit to being guilty of these crimes, which are considered felonies in the justice system of the blogosphere.  Unsure of the punishment I deserve, I face you, the jury and give the following defense:

A conglomeration of events occurred, causing my creative energy to be squelched.  Some of you may remember that I was chronicling the mystery swelling that was wrecking my physical health.  (Unfortunately, it is still undiagnosed and is not improved, but I am dealing with it and currently trying some extreme dieting ideas to try to pinpoint the problem myself).  At some point, there simply were no more words to say about it and no good news to report.  I didn’t want the blog to be a wallowing pity party, and it was becoming clear that there was not a solution coming any time soon.  That was event number one.

Around a year ago, my then wife decided that she could not handle my illness any longer and informed me she had filed for a divorce.  There were some signs (big ones, actually), but it was still a shock.  I certainly felt betrayed.  That was event number two, which actually counts as about one million events rolled into one since I was worried about what this would do to my daughter, custody issues, quickly finding a new house, selling ours, figuring out how to afford health insurance, etc.

I’ve certainly thought about my blog since then, but I just didn’t know what to do with it.  I considered deleting it.  I considered moving some of the past entries into a brand new blog.  Most of all, I just couldn’t stomach coming to it.  Until now.  I am ready.  I love my new house.  My daughter is incredibly inspiring (I do have co-custody and have her half the time), and I am a happy person at peace (except for the health issue, of course).  My faith is strongly intact.  I decided to keep the blog the way it was, sans a couple of “couple” pictures and some obvious updates that were needed “about me” in light of the situation.  I could go back and delete any entries where I praised my wife or that sort of thing, but the reality is that whatever I wrote at that time was the truth in my world at that moment so I’m leaving it alone.

So I guess I’m back in case there are two or three people out there who give a crap whether this blog exists or not and are willing to forgive my neglect instead of tossing me in blog solitary confinement.  By the way, this will not be a blog to rip my ex.  She’s a good mother; that’s all that matters to me about her anymore.  We’re on friendly terms.  I’ve chosen for the sake of my daughter and my own peace of mind not to be bitter.  That will be the last said about that by me.

My daughter, nearing kindergarten age, seems to be taking everything in stride.  I am very thankful for this.  She is the light of my being, and I never want to see her hurt.  She is currently obsessed with the idea of me marrying Trish from the television show “Clean House.”  At least she seems to have good taste!  Oh, and my daughter just asked me to be her Valentine.  Life is beautiful.

It’s good to be here and to get reacquainted with you.  Hi, I’m Matt.





Swelling Update & Other Goofy Tidbits

9 02 2009
  • Swelling: It’s been a  couple of months (almost) since my trip to Mayo Clinic, and my local doctor is working with me on their recommendations.  Overall, I’ve lost about 15 of the 45 lbs of swelling that I had.  The progress has been slow and with a few ups and downs, but it’s heading in the right direction – giving me great hope.  I’m moving a little better and looking slightly less freakish, but I’m not yet at a point of being able to return to my “normal” life (which would probably still be a bit abnormal to most, but that’s a different story).   There is a very recent possibility as far as a potential cause that I discovered quite by accident.  It’s possible that another medicine that no doctor even remotely suspected could have something to do with the swelling.  This is something SO recent that I’m not going to bother going into detail here, but after a few days off of it, I’m seeing a little better progress each day.   Anyway, the news is good right now…slow, but good.
  • From Cool to Tool:  It’s funny how things can go from being “awesome” to “dorky” in a relatively short time.  Parachute pants, jeans jackets, the Men Without Hats’ tune Safety Dance and the use of “air quotes” are good examples.  To me, the Blue Tooth headset has joined this sad list.  I’m not bashing anyone who really needs to use one, and I understand they can be effective tools in some situations. However,  speaking of tools, that’s exactly what I think when I see a dude walking around outside and talking loudly with that dorky-looking thing stuck on his ear – what a tool.  I think they have gone from cutting edge, status symbol territory into something that losers THINK makes them look cool.  Who is with me on this?  I’m really curious.
  • Kid update: My three and a half year old girl, who seems to think she is about 12, continues to be the light of my life.  Sadly, she currently believes that she is the funniest person on earth whenever she inserts the word poop into a song.  Example:  Twinkle, Twinkle Little POOP! She may not have the most sophisticated style of humor yet, but she continues to amaze me in other ways.  She very much enjoyed watching Charlotte’s Web.  The ending, of course, lead to a discussion about death.  (Spoiler alert if you still do not know what happens at the end).  She asked questions about why Charlotte had to die.  We talked about living a long life and how people go to heaven.  First, she wanted to know if her dog would go to heaven.  Since everyone knows that they do, I answered in the affirmative.  She then asked if she could live with Mommy and Daddy when she goes to heaven after she gets old.  I’m not sure how her future husband might feel about this, but I answered with a firm yes once again.  She then got a sad look on her face and said, “I don’t want Mommy to die.”  I hugged her tightly and again assured her this would not happen for many, many, many years.  Before her mother could get a big head about this, my daughter quickly added that she didn’t want “Elizabeth” (a friend of hers) to die either.
  • On the “scary” front: I’m looking forward to attending a midnight premiere of the new Friday the 13th movie this week with a few other horror lovers.  I’m intrigued by the fact that it appears to be a re-imaging of certain elements from several of the first few Friday the 13th films as opposed to just the first one.  Anyone else love these old, dumb scary movies?  Also, who else has seen the reality, contest show called 13:  Fear Is Real?  It has some of the same cheesiness as other reality shows (most of which I detest), but I can’t help having a soft spot for this one.  The reason is that my nephews, friends and I made “scary tapes” as kids.  They were cassette tapes that instructed the “victims” (we took turns being victimized) what to do and where to go in the woods.  We did them at night, of course, and they actually were pretty scary some times.  Even so, it was always more fun making the tapes than doing them.  We enjoyed creating new characters and embellishing upon them in future tapes.  Some of our favorites included:  Slicer Dicer, Harry Maniac, Rickety Inflictor and Brat & Splat who were evil conjoined twins).  Well, someone with a MUCH higher budget has turned this type of idea into a reality show.  It’s fun if you like horror stuff.




A Swell(ing) Journey Part XII: Nearing an Answer?

23 12 2008

First of all, I can’t say enough good things about the staff of Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida.  My week there, which ended this past Friday, was a very pleasant experience (well, except for the whole needle/camera in my neck artery thing during a venogram).  Dr. Paul and Dr. Gonwa are awesome and continue to collaborate in an effort to alleviate the mystery swelling I have been experiencing for nearly a year.  The staff at the front desk of 3 North, which became my second home for four days, were patient (more on that in a minute), helpful and cheerful and frequently greeted me with a playful, “Are you back here bugging us again?” upon my many return visits.   The clinic is beautiful, and the weather was a balmy 78 degrees for most of the days during my stay.  That was a very welcome contrast to the ice and below-freezing temperatures my wife was enduring back home.  If you have to be in a clinic, you might as well be surrounded by palm trees and the sounds of tropical birds.

But the big question is:  Did they figure out the swelling?

The answer:  I don’t know yet.

Many more tests were done, and all (I do mean ALL) of the “normal” things that might usually cause this swelling were pretty much ruled out, yet again.  Even some of the less normal things were ruled out as well.  It does not appear that I have any sort of blockage in veins or arteries, including the vena cava.  There are no clots.  My heart, lungs, transplanted kidney, liver, pancreas, pinky fingers, etc. are all doing well.  They say it’s been way too long for this to be a continuing reaction to the drug Rapamune, which I discontinued many months ago.  The list of things that is NOT causing this goes on and on.  Other things which now appear unlikely are lymphedema, celiac’s disease, cancer, blah, blah, blah.

So what is it?  They believe I am dealing with one of two things.

1.  It’s possible there is something unusual going on in my lymphatic system, something that would not be very simple to pinpoint with any easy test.

2.  Dr. Gonwa has seen cases in which transplant patients have a weird sort of “reaction” to the transplanted organ.  It is weird in that, the organ is working fine, and it is not being rejected by my body, BUT my body is still not pleased with this intruder and starts to retain water in a sort of mini rebellion against the situation.  My body is saying, “Okay, foreign kidney…the anti-rejection drugs are protecting you, but we still don’t like you.  How about we fill up with fluid?  That should show you, you bastard.”  This is my best attempt to explain this theory.  I’m sure I’m botching it up a bit, and it’s far more eloquent when Dr. Gonwa explains it.

At this point, they think I am dealing with #2.  The best thing about this is that it should be very treatable once we figure out the correct dosage and combination of diuretic drugs.  This process has begun, and I’ve seen some slight improvement, enough to give me hope.  Just today, the dosage of one medication was doubled.  I think we might be on the right track.

As I take a wait and see approach, I think back on my trip and realize how many people I need to thank.  My sister (the kidney donor) and her husband graciously took me in for the week.  How lucky am I to have family living near a Mayo Clinic?  My other sister and her husband made the long trip with me, which made it much more enjoyable.  That “lucky” brother-in-law had the pleasure of chauffeuring me around, including early morning trips to the clinic each day.  I also have to thank my wife, who was suddenly thrust into a week of “single-parenting” a very rambunctious toddler.

And, as I mentioned already, the staff of Mayo deserve major kudos.  Most of the patients who were there seemed to realize they were in a special place and were thankful for that. There were quite a few retired doctors there as patients (I figured this was a good sign).  However, I witnessed two “interesting” patients who were major pains for the staff.  The first one thought she was better than anyone else who was waiting.  She was probably 50 or so, and she made a very loud fuss in her thick New York accent to anyone who would listen about how annoyed she was that she couldn’t have any coffee yet.  She, like most of us, was fasting in case any fasting labs were to be ordered by the doctor. She was desperately trying to make the staff understand that she needed to be seen by the doctor right away so she could have her precious coffee.  I’m guessing this was her first time dealing with some sort of serious health issue. In my mind, I was thinking, “Welcome to the club, lady – and you better get used to fasting in the morning.”

The second patient was a thirty-something woman who was loudly talking, ranting and complaining on her cell phone (in a waiting room full of patients) about some other female in her life who is apparently a “skank” and a “ho” and a “bit*h.”  She was oblivious to those around her, including the many elderly people who were trying to tune her out.  After this phone call, she then set her sites on the front desk staff.  She complained about how long she and her husband (he was in a wheel chair and had a long cast on his leg) had been waiting for his appointment.  The front desk staff person reminded her that it was actually only eight minutes past the appointment time and that they had arrived very early for their appointment.  The woman did not seem to grasp this concept and cussed out the staff person before telling her husband they were going to leave.  I guess he didn’t get to see the doctor that day, because she stormed out with him.   The ironic thing about the actions of these two patients is that the Mayo actually did a pretty good job of keeping the appointments moving without the waits being too excruciating.  This is despite the fact they see about 2,000 patients per day.

For now, it’s time to be patient and hope these medication combinations can fix the problem.  In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the joy on my daughter’s face when she realizes that Santa has left a few things under the tree.





The Twelve Questions of Christmas

11 12 2008

It’s that time of year when good cheer is spread everywhere except in packed store aisles where shoppers’ carts recklessly crash into each other while racing around in search of those hard-to-find Christmas gifts.  It follows then, that it must be time for my wife (see hers here) and me to bust out or annual Christmas meme.  Feel free to use it; we’d love to see your answers.

1. What’s the best Christmas gift you have ever received?  What’s the worst?

It’s difficult to pinpoint the best. I probably answered differently last year, but I’ll go with the electric train set I received as a child.  It was circling the Christmas tree when I woke up.

The worst I received was while working at Goodwill.  I “won” a freaking canned ham in a raffle there.  It was disgusting to look at.  I didn’t venture a taste.

2. What is your favorite Christmas movie moment?

This one:

3. What is your favorite version of a Christmas song?

I’ll Be Home for Christmas by Frank Sinatra.  My late father, who was a prisoner of war during WWII, once told me this was his favorite Christmas song (not necessarily the Sinatra version) because of his time during the war. That always stuck with me.

4. Describe an ornament that has special significance to you.

My ravishing wife gave this one to me.  The sign says, “I burn 4 U.”

5. Have you had any traumatic Christmas-related experiences?

Just the one with the aforementioned canned ham.  I swear that thing was alive.

6. What is your happiest Christmas memory?

This year, just a few days ago, when my 3-year-old daughter sat in Santa’s lap for the first time and had the biggest smile on her face.  She asked for a “Pink girl tractor” to drive. I also remember, as a small child, lying under our Christmas tree and watching the cool patterns the blinking lights made on our ceiling.

7. Favorite Christmas picture:

This one from many years ago because it shows a bunch of my family.  Most importantly, though, it shows my nephew being a HUGE baby when everyone else is having a blast.  What a tool.  See his blog here.

8. What’s on your grown up wish list (other than world peace, of course)?

Just to keep getting to be around this beauty:

9. What Christmas TV special do you look forward to all year?

The Year Without a Santa Claus because of the Heat Miser and Snow Miser.  I’m looking forward to their new special, called A Miser Brothers Christmas on ABC Family.

10. What famous person would you most like to encounter under the mistletoe?

I’ll go with Brooke Burke.

11. What’s the best thing to do in the snow?

I always thought it was cool to build a sort of igloo out of it, dig a couple of tunnels and then make my poor cat go in it with me.  I don’t have a pic of him in an igloo, but here he is in a happier place, resting on top of one of my other nephews.


12. Favorite Christmas Quote:

I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year. – Charles Dickens.







I’m Off to See the Wizard(s) at Mayo

30 11 2008

I’ll be heading to the sunshine of Florida in a couple of weeks, but it won’t be for a beach-filled vacation.  In my attempts to stay sane and return to my previously “normal” (at least by my standards) life, I am heading to the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville to let the wizards doctors there take a shot at figuring out why I have a life-altering amount of swelling that has left me feeling like “I’m not in Kansas anymore.”

Picking which Mayo Clinic to visit was a no-brainer.  My sister, the kidney donor, lives near the one in Florida.  Also, when it comes down to it, who would pick Minnesota over Florida in December?  (The Phoenix option was just too far away.)

My favorite thing about the potential of this visit is the confidence of the place.  After fully informing them of the thus-far-undiagnosable condition of which I have become the unwilling recipient (despite being poked, prodded and photographed by a plethora of physicians in various parts of the Midwest), their response was, “Come here, and we’ll figure it out.” I really liked hearing that, with no mention of words like, try, maybe or might.”

I am scheduled to be seen by several doctors from many different walks of doctoring over a four day period.  I like the odds that they will figure something out.

I hope, upon arrival, it doesn’t turn out to be some has-been behind a big curtain.  Although I’d take that if I could wake up and find out this has all just been a bad dream…a la Dorothy.  There may be no place like home, but it’s time to give these out-of-town medicinal wizards a try.

After all, I still plan to be the one to teach my little girl to play tennis.  I don’t want to just be the chauffeur who gets her to the courts.





A Swell(ing) Journey Part XI: The Frustration Chronicles

11 10 2008

Eight months.  I’ve been lugging around an extra 30 to 35 pounds of seemingly unexplainable fluid in the lower half of my body for eight months.  It’s kind of like babysitting someone’s three-year-old for 8 months, 24 hours per day:  I’m ready for his parents to come home and relieve me of the weight.

So, here’s the update.  For the past 5 weeks, I’ve been attending daily physical therapy.  They were wrapping the swollen areas up like a mummy, and the wraps remained on until I returned the next day.  They would unwrap, let me go wash up and then re-wrap it a bit more tightly.  The negative side of this is that it’s a bit uncomfortable and makes something we generaly take for granted, showering, impossible except on Sundays when I got to be wrap-free.  Let me just say, giving yourself a sponge bath is not really all that easy or fun.  The positive side of this is that it means I have everything I need to dress as a mummy this Halloween.

So, is it working?  Unfortunately, no.  It was kind of squishing down my legs and making them look better, but the fluid wasn’t leaving my body, it was just moving to the unwrapped areas.  In fact, we decided this week to stop doing it.  The doctors are still perplexed.  The physical therapist is perplexed.  Even my own three-year-old is talking about “The Swelling.”

Next, we are trying a new drug to go along with the lasix and some massage therapy at the physical therapy shop.  The past two days have been a bit better, but nothing has happened that allows me to get on here and say, “We’ve found the answer!”  I’m waiting to hear back from the specialists in St. Louis as to what I am to try next.  My doctors continue to tell me this should NOT be permanent.  Basically, all of the unfixable conditions that might cause this have been ruled out through various tests.  I do not have lympedema or cancer or a heart condition or a liver condition or any problem on chest x-rays.  Numerous scans have shown no blockages or blood clots.  Whatever I do have remains a mystery.  It’s still possible this was a strange reaction to a medication, but I’ve now been off of Rapamune (see previous entries on this subject) for 6 full months.  The doctor I see who felt strongly about this being the cause is now beginning to doubt it.

I’ll keep you posted, and I appreciate all your kind words and prayers.

p.s. Would the rightful owners of a 30 pound fluid monster please claim it?  I don’t really want to take care of it any longer.





Worst Photo Blog Ever

12 08 2008

I’m feeling inspired to post a photo blog. I thoroughly enjoyed my wife’s pictorial post documenting her weekly bicycle rides. (Truth be told, she is gone so long that I asked her to take pictures to prove that’s what she is really doing. When your wife is as beautiful as she is, you really have to keep tabs.) Editor’s note: If you are the type of person who took that last sentence seriously and plans to leave a comment about how awful controlling husbands are, you are visiting the wrong blog.

I also enjoyed my friend Nathalie’s recent post where she attempted to heal me through the power of Hooters’ girls. While I’m sure no post of mine can “stack” up to that one, I wanted to post one anyway.

There are two main obstacles to posting such a blog.

1. I don’t really take very many pictures.

2. The pictures I do take usually suck.

I found two ways around these problems.

1. I decided to post a photo blog that could possibly be the worst photo blog ever posted and one that surely no one will find interesting. (Wow, that should get me on the wordpress front page.) By setting such a low standard, I can finally feel free to put a photo blog here.

2. I decided that I would only post pictures taken by my 3-year-old daughter. By using her as a blatant scapegoat, I can easily deflect any negative comments by assuring myself, “They aren’t criticizing me; they are criticizing my daughter.”

So, the imp, as my wife calls her, spent an afternoon taking pictures of whatever she pleased while lugging around an out-dated digital camera. (You know I’m getting old when it seems funny to put “out-dated” next to “digital” in a sentence. I’m just getting past the Polaroid stage. Those old Polaroids were fun to shake, ala Outkast, even though they said you didn’t need to do that. )

At long last and at the risk of losing any readers I might have once garnered, here are the pics.

Dog’s Eye View

She wanted to capture what the dog sees.  Pretty clever that she blurred it a bit to reflect that fact that our dog is up there in years and surely doesnt see as well anymore.
She wanted to capture what the dog sees. Pretty clever that she blurred it a bit to reflect the fact that our dog is up there in years and surely doesn’t see as well anymore.

Starving for Nutrients

I believe she wanted to make a statement about the poor diets of children in this country.  This grotesque close-up of chicken nuggets says it all.
I believe she wanted to make a statement about the poor diets of children in this country. This grotesque close-up of chicken nuggets says it all.

What Matters Most

I was touched when at first I thought she was taking a picture of our family pictures.  Then I realized, she was taking a picture of something far dearer to her heart...the t.v. remote control.
I was touched when at first I thought she was taking a picture of our family pictures. Then I realized, she was taking a picture of something far dearer to her heart…the t.v. remote control.

My Way

Ive tried and tried to convince her that she cannot run her fastest wearing rain boots.  She still insists on playing baseball in them and documents her stubborn ways here.
I’ve tried and tried to convince her that she cannot run very fast wearing rain boots. She still insists on playing baseball in them and documents her stubborn ways here with bat and boots plainly visible. Or perhaps I misinterpret. This could be a representation of the sadness one feels when a baseball game is delayed by rain. Hmm…very deep.

The Cookie Crumbles

When asked to photograph her three favorite things besides the remote, I was hoping she would pick me, Mom and the dog.  However, she chose a sippy cup, mysterious sack and the cookie jar.
When asked to photograph her three favorite things (not counting the remote), I was hoping she would pick me, Mom and the dog. However, she chose a sippy cup, a mysterious sack and the cookie jar. Note her use of finger blockage to add an ominous feel to the photo.

Steaming Mad at Dirt

She used this opportunity to find grime and grease that is so much more noticeable from a childs height.  She is obviously disgusted by her surroundings.
She used this opportunity to find grime and grease that is so much more noticeable from a child’s height. She is obviously disgusted by her surroundings.

Fit of Rage

She spent hours setting up this particular shot, meant to portray her feelings when given a time out for screaming at her parents.
She spent hours setting up this particular shot, meant to portray her feelings when given a time out for screaming at her parents.

Contrast

Since she is not throwing fits 100% of the time, she thought it best to also document the lighter moments with her toys and toes.
Since she is not throwing fits 100% of the time, she thought it best to also document the lighter moments with her toys and her toe.

Oh, the Ear-rony

She just loves irony.  How fitting to photograph the word ear when one sees rather than hears a photograph.  Wow, that just blew my mind.
She just loves irony. How fitting to photograph the word ear when one sees rather than hears a photograph. Wow, that just blew my mind.

Work Stoppage Atrocity

Just when a kid gets on a roll, a parent comes to steal the camera.

Just when a kid gets on a roll, a parent comes to steal the camera.

These photos are copyrighted by Bad Blog Inc. and may not be used without the express written consent of someone semi-important. This is done for no particular reason since no one would want to re-publish any of these photos in any capacity.





Some Things Our Kids Don’t Need to Know About Us

30 07 2008

Ever wish you could answer something in a completely honest way? Maybe when you’ve filled out a job application or been asked questions by someone on a first date? There are certain situations when complete honesty is probably a mistake (unless you are a true saint and have nothing to cover up).

I’m in one of those situations currently. I was given a journal/book called A Father’s Legacy (J. Countryman Publishing) by a family member. The idea is a cool one: Answer the questions about your own life in the book and then give it to your child/children so they can have a lasting memoir to keep. It will require some work (thanks a million, Luke), but I acknowledge this is a good idea.

Another good idea would be to utilize a modicum of care in how I answer some of these questions. This book is meant for my child (or children if more come along in the future) and could very easily get passed down to their children and so on and so on. It will be important to be truthful, of course. BUT, it may be wise to keep some true things about my past to myself. How fun would it be, though, to answer some of the questions in any way that I wanted to answer them? Luckily, I have this blog space to do just that! I can save my more “fatherly” answers for the book.

From the CHILDHOOD section of the book:

“Did you enjoy reading as a boy?” My book answer will of course praise the merits of reading and refer to the joys of having The Monster at the End of this Book read to me by my mother and enjoying Charlotte’s Web on my own. This is all true, but let’s get to the nitty gritty. I will never forget reading the sex advice column in the Playboy magazine that I stole when I was about 12. (I was not the type to steal, and other than the magazine, I think I stole a piece of hard candy once, and that was about the extent of my pilfering. I stole the magazine because, at least back then, they didn’t allow 12-year-olds to buy Playboy, and Suzanne Somers was in that particular edition. I had seen Three’s Company, and I couldn’t resist.) Back to the sex advice. What red-blooded boy at that age would not be mesmerized, awed and possibly a bit overwhelmed reading advice about extra-marital affairs or understanding female orgasms? I had the feeling that I was partway in heaven and partway in hell hiding in the garage reading those pages. Plus Suzanne Somers was hot. So, I can honestly say, yes I enjoyed reading as a boy.

From the FAMILY LIFE section of the book:

“In what ways are you like your father?” The book answer will include that I am funny and determined and that I believe in God, which are all things that my dad role modeled. He was a good man. These things are true, but like any man, my late father had his own issues. Unfortunately, I may have inherited one or two or twenty of them. So what’s the real answer? I can be as stubborn as an ass, just like him. I don’t like to lose any argument and therefore can be an infuriating person. I tend to scoff at the stupid things people do which can make me a bit judgmental. I’m guessing that my kids, when old enough to understand the book, will know these things about their dad without me having to write them down! Speaking of similarities between myself and my dad, let me mention one way in which I am not similar. Why can’t I hit a golf ball the way my dad could? I don’t enjoy the game, but I probably would if I could master the course the way he did.

From the EDUCATION section:

“What did you learn in high school?” I’m sure my book answer will touch on many things regarding “responsibility” and “self-reliance” blah, blah, blah. But here, my honest answer is this: I quickly learned there was a perfect spot on the first floor of the gym where, at lunch time, one could stand and be positioned directly below the railing on the 2nd floor of the gym where cute girls often gathered to socialize and lean against said rail. Why was this significant? Keep in mind, I attended a Catholic high school where many of the girls wore those plaid, uniform skirts. That’s right, in just the right spot, a perverted young male could see up those skirts on the 2nd floor. In my defense (not that there really is one), I was certainly not the only male aware of this, and looking back, I’m pretty sure some of the girls knew too. This was vital information and made lunch time so much more fun. (Maybe actually going up to the girls and talking to them would have been fun as well, but this seemed preposterous and impossible for me during my first couple of years).

“Is there Something You Wish You Would Have Done in High School?” Yes. Keri and Christine…preferably at the same time.

From the LOVE AND MARRIAGE section:

“What qualities first attracted you to your wife?” This is the easiest question to answer both truthfully and in book-appropriate fashion. We worked together. I was impressed with my wife’s intelligence, motivation to succeed, class and humor right off the bat. It’s difficult not to be impressed with her, and if you’ve read her blog you already know what I mean. I may leave out two things from my book answer, though. I still remember those two things from our days working together as though they happened just yesterday. One is a particular time I came across her in a narrow hallway while she was making copies. She smiled and said “hi” (we weren’t dating yet). She was wearing a skirt, and as I passed closely by her (remember it was narrow), I was stunned by how beautiful her legs looked. The other time was when a discussion broke out amongst several co-workers about working out, playing sports, flexibility, etc. My future wife decided to demonstrate her flexibility by bending completely over and easily touching her toes. I believe this happened on a casual dress day when she was wearing jeans. The incident affected me in ways I really couldn’t describe here. (Really.)

“What do you think is most important in maintaining a healthy marriage?” The book answer will include important things like trust and commitment. My real answer here? Being willing to help her with blog wording and titles and recording sporting events to watch later when she’s gone to bed instead of trying to watch them when she’s awake.

From the PARENTING section:

“What has been the greatest challenge of being a father?” My three-year-old daughter is great and is a nearly constant source of smiles and happiness. That is very, very true. However, if I were to answer this question with nothing but the truth, I would have to say it’s a challenge to remember those smiling times and to keep my cool when she decides it’s time to climb something inappropriate in a store (say, a display of breakable items). It’s usually at this time when she is very good at calling bluffs. When you have a cart full of items that you really need to purchase (or at least think that you do) and you warn her that you’re going to take her immediately home and give her a time out if she doesn’t listen, she knows that you’re not really going to do that. That’s when she looks you straight in the eye and defiantly pronounces, “I want to go home. I want a time out.” This eventually leads to an all-out screaming, public fit in which she does the kid universal turn-her-whole-body-into-deadweight-jelly when you try to pick her up off the floor while you get disapproving glances from non-parents. I get a little angry just thinking about it. Probably time to move on to the next question.

From the CELEBRATIONS section:

“Do you remember particularly special birthday gifts you received?” Hey, I got some cool stuff as a kid, like the Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots or the Miner 2049er game for my Atari system. I’ll probably put those down in the book. However, I can’t help but also remember some of the items of clothing that my mother, bless her heart, made for me. She was great at crafty things like that, and it helped out the family financially whenever she made clothes instead of buying them. The problem is; they weren’t always the coolest styles. You can see one of the outfits in a horrific picture buried deep in this post.

From the LIFE EVENTS section:

“Has there been a political event in your lifetime that made a strong impression on you?” Yes, the Watergate scandal. I could write in the book how I learned that politicians are not always looking out for us and how the media serves as a sort of watchdog for us. In reality, though, what I really remember about that time was how mad I was that it was the ONLY THING ON TV ALL DAY FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE AN ETERNITY. There was no cable at that time. We had the three networks and PBS. I needed my cartoons, man! All of the shows I cared about were preempted for the Watergate hearings every time I turned on a tv. At least it made me get out and play more (I was already the type of kid who liked to play outside, but it was nice to have a little mindless tv time now and then.) What kid would rather see the face of John Dean instead of Bugs Bunny or Batman? Exactly.

From the INSPIRATION section:

“Who were your role models when you were young?” I’m going to have to write about teachers and my parents in the book, and they certainly were role models. However, the truth would also include Fonzie, rockers like the dudes from Night Ranger or the Scorpions, and maybe, since I loved scary movies, someone like Jason Voorhees. I think I’ll leave these out of the book so I don’t make my kids think that I’m a leather-jacket wearing druggie who sticks axes in people. Yeah, I’ll stick with the parents/teachers answer.

The more I think about my Playboy-stealing, scary-movie loving, skirt-looking-up, Batman-watching days, the more I wonder if I really should be parenting anyone. Then again, my daughter seems to be doing amazingly well in spite of my shortcomings. Have to give my wife credit there. Maybe this whole journal/book idea to give to your kids was someone’s idea of a sick joke.








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