Tis the Season to be Barfing...

With a title like that I'm sure that my literary inspiration will just spew forth. Okay, cheap barf joke. But after last night it's on my mind. Allow me to explain. Marcus-Whose-Bottom-is-Made-Out-of-Springs had his first ever experience with it last night. It must be scary as a small, innocent child to wake up in the night only to see all the ice cream you ate not 2 hours ago flying from your mouth. How unfair! Needless to say it scared the...nevermind I'll skip the 2nd cheap barf joke. It scared him. So what does any good 3 year old to when he is scared? He goes to Dad because Dad always lets him get in his bed when he is scared. Stupid Daddy.

Marcus came and stood right by my bed crying and started to climb in. THANKFULLY my nose was not as asleep as I was! My nose told my brain that letting Marcus in bed would not be a good thing right now and so my brain told my arm to keep Marcus from entering the bed. Way to go arm! By the time I awoke my body had already averted crisis #2 from happening and off we went to have our first lesson on "The bowl." The Bowl came in handy several more times that night and as Marcus improved in both aim and timing he came to show us. Sigh.

In other less gross news we are ready for Christmas!!! And, believe it or not we have snow! Not much but in the desert snow is a rarity. The best part is we're supposed to get it all week! Sweet. The boys recently sang in a Christmas concert at the church and I played my trumpet and Neisha sang in the choir. All in all it was a really nice deal. Alex reports that all he wants for Christmas is his two front teeth (he really doesn't have any at the moment), Josh wants a PS3, an XBox 360, a PSP, Nintendo DS, yada yada yada You get the picture. I told him I'd give him a JKITB 360. He asked me what that was. I told him it was a Johnson Kick-in-the-butt 360 (the approximate rotation of his behind after meeting my foot). He said he's settle for some crackers. That's my boy. Parker is happy because he got the one thing he really wanted for Christmas by winning a raffle drawing at the company Christmas party. It is a Ripstick, which is a skate board with only one wheel at each end. How insane is that?
"Hey Dad, I'm going to go ride my Ripstick now."
"Is that the thing with only one wheel, which if going down a hill you even slightly lean too far to one side will come to a screeching halt sending you careening headfirst into a parked car?"
"Yep"
"Okay. Have fun. I'll see you at the hospital."

I'm sure this is a real conversation in the near future. Anyway, that's enough news to gag a horse. Yes that was cheap barf joke #3. Merry Christmas!

Gotta See the Regatta

Recently we hosted the Page Balloon Regatta. Now a "Regatta" is defined as: A sports event consisting of a series of boat or yacht races. So the fact that we had hot-air balloons which didn't race at all makes the name choice very clear. We did get to see a couple balloons crash into things so perhaps Page Balloon DERBY might be a better descriptor. Parker aka "Sonic" wanted more than anything to go up in a balloon. He wanted me to get up at 6am to go get in line for a balloon ride. Of course the night before was Halloween and so between the excitement of getting boatloads of candy and the excitement of eating boatloads of candy and the consequential hyper-exciting rush of liquid sugar coursing through his veins meant that PJ got to sleep at about 3am. So being the dope, I mean, Dad that I am we arrived at the event a little after 6 only to discover that there weren't any more rides available. He and Shark Bait loved it anyway and got to stand right next to them as they inflated. That night, after the glow of Halloween and the Balloon Derby had faded away PJ told us: "Thus ends the greatest weekend of my life." Classic. Anyhow here are a few pics of the event:






Here's the troop on Halloween: Notice that Marcus is carrying a sword. He is also a Lady Bug. We received several comments about his costume. Comments like, "Oh, is that a sword?" and "Is he a lady bug? Why does he have a sword?" What? Don't ALL lady bugs have swords? Sheesh.

Say Cheese! Please?

There is one rule to follow when trying to take pictures of your children: Don't. Many a state hospital is filled with seasoned photographers who went crazy trying to get a child to "Look at the fuzzy ball and say 'Cheese!'" And while I'm on the subject, why Cheese? What is it about saying cheese that mysteriously makes kids smile? My kids are not particularly crazy about cheese and so when we say it they don't smile, but get sort of a pained, "Do we have to eat that stuff again" look on their face. Here's two classic examples: #1 Place: The Cabin. Task: To get my son Alex (aka Shark Bait) to stand next to his cousin and smile. Results: Why do I even bother? Alex seems to take it as a personal challenge to keep us from ever getting a normal shot of him. So far he's winning. Big time.







#2 Place: Our House. Challenge: To get Marcus to smile for a nice happy shot. Extra Challenge: He sleeps in the same room with Shark Bait. Results: Dang it. Shark Bait beat us to him.

Help! Rabid Child!

What is it with my kids and toothpaste!? Here I am, just trying to be a good dad and help my kids brush their teeth so they don't cost me thousands in cavity repair and I end up being attacked by a toothpaste happy rabid-child.

As you know, Marcus is two, which means he is learning that it is very important that he learns everything...by doing it all himself and brushing his teeth is no exception. Our routine goes like this: I hold up the tube of Batman and Sponge Bob toothpaste and he has to choose. Tonight is Sponge Bob. He then insists on putting the toothpaste on his own brush which means that after he puts it on I have to clean off the sink, his shirt, and the floor. Then I say, "Okay Marcus, I'll start and you finish." Of course he refuses and says, "I start. You finish." This is what I wanted in the first place. (That was a little bit of psychology folks). Well, tonight as I was brushing away he kept his mouth closed which meant he built up a ton of toothpaste foam inside his mouth. After nearly a minute of good scrubbing blue foam was leaking out the sides of his mouth. Being an insightful type of father I thought maybe this would be a good time to rinse. Well, upon pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth some of the stuff flipped onto my face which made me say, "Gaa!" He laughed. I wish he wouldn't have done that. He literally exploded on me! And as I stood there covered in a fine shade of blue goo, he said, "Daddy I 'pit on you." Yeah, no kidding.

Remembering Parker and the Stupid Patrol

Chidlren do grow up fast, don't they? I mean, one moment you're taking them home from the hospital wrapped in a hospital-standard-issue blankie and the next you're taking them back to the hospital with a not-hospital-standard-issue steel ball up their nose. Sigh.

You know, when I think about parenting, I think about the look on parents' faces. I think about the smile on your wife's face when she tells you she's going to have a baby. I think about the look of panic when you both discover how much it will cost to have said baby. I think about the look of pain and revenge when your wife is delivering the baby. And then I think of the look of absolute confusion when you both get home from the hospital with your new little one and think, "Now what?"

I'm guessing that look of confusion will pretty much be permanent for the next 25 years. Frequently our kids do stuff that I just don't get. Like why kids make themselves barf. It defies logic. Let me delve into the Bonehead archives and give you an example from when Parker was several months old:

We were all in the kitchen making something when we hear Parker barf on himself. We turned around and there he sat smiling about it. Ok.... Neisha then informed me that this was the 3rd time he had done it today and she wished he would keep his big fat hands out of his mouth. Interesting. I started to watch Parker and sure enough as soon as Neisha turned around to wash out the hand towel, he quickly stuck his hand in his mouth and commenced gagging himself. I had my hands full with food and so Neisha took his hand out and said to "Stoppit!". Let the games begin! It went something like this:
Mom: Stoppit!
Parker: Blorph.
Mom: Stoppit!
Parker: Ack-hrumph
Mom: STOPPIT!
Parker: Gak' (chuckle)
Mom: KNOCK IT OFF!!
Parker: Blecch
Mom: PARKER, QUIT IT!!

Final Score: Mom 0, Parker 5 barfs. Well, Parker is now 9 and doesn't barf for fun anymore but does occasionally become the evil Dr. Vox who believes that the best way to cure a headache is to remove your head. That's a story for another day. But to finish today's title, we have taught our kids that certain words aren't good to say to each other or us. One of those words is "Stupid". We sat the kids down and told them that calling someone "stupid" is mean and not to do it. Discussion over. Or so we thought. We have a 2 year old who can speak. In psychological terms he would be known as a Parrot: A small colorful animal that has the annoying habit of repeating everything you say, especially in embarrassing public situations.

Marcus the parrot has taken this lesson to heart. Anytime he hears the word stupid, no matter what part of the house he happens to be in, will come running into the room and yell at you, "WE DON'T SAY STUPID!" One time just for fun I asked him if I could say, "Idiot" instead. His answer? "Yeah, that's a good word. You can say that Dad."