5 years on. March 8th 2003 really was magical. I think about it every day.
I wouldn’t change anything from the past 5 years.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Friday, March 7, 2008
Ugh
I just received the first of what promises to be many emails asking if I want to join someone’s “brackets”. If you’re one of those people, let me save you some time and let you know not to bother.
I find few things less interesting than the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, aka “March Madness”. I like most sports just fine. All except college basketball, that is. I think it’s because I have the uncanny ability (for a guy, anyway) to watch a game, enjoy it, and when it’s over, LET IT GO. I do not feel compelled in any way to spend the next 24 to 48 hours of my life rehashing every aspect of the game, much less getting emotionally involved in the outcome.
I work with guys (and I’m not kidding) who can tell you who the 7th round draft pick was for the Seattle Supersonics in 1998, where he went to college, and what his major stats are. Name pretty much any team, and at least one of these guys can give you a full-on 6 hour rant worthy of any competent sports radio guy. God forbid that someone has a differing opinion. Anyone Washingtonian reading this will probably understand why I usually take the day off following a Redskins – Cowboys game.
March Madness goes on so long, with so many games, that I just can’t justify devoting that kind of time to it. I suspect that March Madness taints all college basketball for me. I have a life, and I’m not going to spend a significant portion of it caring about how well a college basketball team does.
So when I get that email, this tends to be my response:
I find few things less interesting than the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, aka “March Madness”. I like most sports just fine. All except college basketball, that is. I think it’s because I have the uncanny ability (for a guy, anyway) to watch a game, enjoy it, and when it’s over, LET IT GO. I do not feel compelled in any way to spend the next 24 to 48 hours of my life rehashing every aspect of the game, much less getting emotionally involved in the outcome.
I work with guys (and I’m not kidding) who can tell you who the 7th round draft pick was for the Seattle Supersonics in 1998, where he went to college, and what his major stats are. Name pretty much any team, and at least one of these guys can give you a full-on 6 hour rant worthy of any competent sports radio guy. God forbid that someone has a differing opinion. Anyone Washingtonian reading this will probably understand why I usually take the day off following a Redskins – Cowboys game.
March Madness goes on so long, with so many games, that I just can’t justify devoting that kind of time to it. I suspect that March Madness taints all college basketball for me. I have a life, and I’m not going to spend a significant portion of it caring about how well a college basketball team does.
So when I get that email, this tends to be my response:
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Recovery
Sorry it's been a while. I was a tad under the weather this past week. The Kid brought a case of the sniffles into our humble abode. While she was only moderately phased by it, the virus in question grabbed my normally superhuman immune system by the scruff of the neck and kicked it repeatedly in the groin until it lay whimpering on the metaphorical floor.
I didn't help matters by ignoring the symptoms and pushing myself too hard all weekend until it was far too late. By Monday, it was all I could do to get out of bed and onto the sofa.
Having said that, The Kid is making some fairly dramatic and rapid developmental advancements. She can now crawl with ease, and pull herself up into a standing position using tables, chairs, and on one warm day recently, my leg hair. She is even capable of standing un-assisted for several seconds at a time. Less than a week ago, she could do none of these things. She even danced for the first time, along with some music on the TV. We got a short snippet of that on video, which I hope to post soon.
The creator of Dungeons and Dragons, Gary Gygax, died the other day, and the 14 year-old nerd part of me is saddened by that. It reminded me of that terrific Tom Hanks made for TV movie Mazes and Monsters. Tom plays a kid who gets way into a game just like D&D, and can no longer separate fantasy from reality. I think he even ends up stabbing a friend because he thinks that the friend is a goblin or something. Apparently that was a concern at the time. Would that our modern child-rearing concerns were as mundane...
I didn't help matters by ignoring the symptoms and pushing myself too hard all weekend until it was far too late. By Monday, it was all I could do to get out of bed and onto the sofa.
Having said that, The Kid is making some fairly dramatic and rapid developmental advancements. She can now crawl with ease, and pull herself up into a standing position using tables, chairs, and on one warm day recently, my leg hair. She is even capable of standing un-assisted for several seconds at a time. Less than a week ago, she could do none of these things. She even danced for the first time, along with some music on the TV. We got a short snippet of that on video, which I hope to post soon.
The creator of Dungeons and Dragons, Gary Gygax, died the other day, and the 14 year-old nerd part of me is saddened by that. It reminded me of that terrific Tom Hanks made for TV movie Mazes and Monsters. Tom plays a kid who gets way into a game just like D&D, and can no longer separate fantasy from reality. I think he even ends up stabbing a friend because he thinks that the friend is a goblin or something. Apparently that was a concern at the time. Would that our modern child-rearing concerns were as mundane...
Monday, February 25, 2008
Its a Riddle
Thirty white horses on a red hill,
First they champ,
Then they stamp,
Then they stand still.
-J.R.R. Tolkien "The Hobbit"
But we has only two, my precious.
First they champ,
Then they stamp,
Then they stand still.
-J.R.R. Tolkien "The Hobbit"
But we has only two, my precious.
Mysteries Abound
As a kid, I grew up on a steady diet of The Hardy Boys, Encyclopedia Brown and The Three Investigators books. There was even one occasion where my friends and I did some detective work on the famous “Who Crashed into Judd’s House and then Drove Off” case, but that’s a story for another time.
I thought that my best detective days were behind me, but then the Kid arrived. Now it’s the case of “Where Did the [insert small object name] Go?”
Like just about every other young-un I know, The Kid loves her Cheerios. The Wife and I usually put some number of them on her tray, and watch as she eats them. We try to keep track of how many we give her and how many she eats, just so we have a handle on what her food intake is. It also makes it easier when give instructions to babysitters and grandparents* regarding her normal routine. Lately it seems like she’s eating quite a bit fewer Cheerios than we’re actually giving her. If she’s not eating them, where are they? The Cat won’t eat them, and here are relatively few of them on the floor. Hmmm. It really is a hum-drum conundrum.
Eureka!
*The Wife and I are fully aware that most instructions given to grandparents are read, understood, acknowledged, and then summarily ignored. Isn’t that the purpose of grandparents? As long as the Kid is happy, we don’t really care.
I thought that my best detective days were behind me, but then the Kid arrived. Now it’s the case of “Where Did the [insert small object name] Go?”
Like just about every other young-un I know, The Kid loves her Cheerios. The Wife and I usually put some number of them on her tray, and watch as she eats them. We try to keep track of how many we give her and how many she eats, just so we have a handle on what her food intake is. It also makes it easier when give instructions to babysitters and grandparents* regarding her normal routine. Lately it seems like she’s eating quite a bit fewer Cheerios than we’re actually giving her. If she’s not eating them, where are they? The Cat won’t eat them, and here are relatively few of them on the floor. Hmmm. It really is a hum-drum conundrum.
Eureka!
Nice to know the old noggin is still working.
*The Wife and I are fully aware that most instructions given to grandparents are read, understood, acknowledged, and then summarily ignored. Isn’t that the purpose of grandparents? As long as the Kid is happy, we don’t really care.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Lunch with Andy
A video today shot at lunchtime. The Kid was enjoying some carrots and chicken, giving her the opportunity to try out that new tooth.
So, about the music. I like Andy Williams. You got a problem with that? Didn't think so. The Kid likes him too. That song, anyway. It's the first song she ever heard.
The Kid was born at 6:35 pm. By about 11:30 that night, all the initial commotion had tapered off, and the Wife, Kid, and I were alone in the hospital room. There were concerns from the medical personnel regarding The Kid's slightly low body temperature, so some skin-on-skin tummy time with mom was the suggested remedy. As the two most beautiful ladies in the world stared at each other, we turned on the TV. It happened to be tuned to Turner Classic Movies, and wouldn't you know it, there's Audrey Hepburn sitting in a window singing "Moon River."
Brought tears to my eyes, it did. A lot of stuff that day did that.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Worst. Commute. Ever.
I’ve been a Washington, DC commuter for about 15 years now, and I have never, ever, never had a commute home as bad as last night. That includes 9/11.
I’m normally home by 5:15 every day, but I walked in the door last night just before the little had got to the 8. Let’s see, I left the office at 4, and got home at 8. For those of you who didn’t major in the maths, that’s about 4 hours. 45 minutes on the train (normal), followed by 3 hours 15 minutes driving the remaining 22.3 miles. Since math isn’t my strong suit either, I’ll leave it to you to figure out my average speed. Back of the envelope guesstimates put it at somewhere around 0.
Let us further compound the situation by adding that the Wife was also in traffic at last an hour behind me. Where was the Kid, you ask? Daycare, I reply. I’m driving the MINI, and the Wife is in the grown-up’s car. Have I mentioned that there is no car seat in the MINI? I have. Decision time: Do I go home and get the other car seat and somehow jam it into the MINI with a crowbar and some Vaseline, or does the Kid wait at daycare for mommy to arrive? We decided on option 1. Lo and behold, the car seat does fit in the MINI, although it’s not a configuration that makes anyone happy. At least she’ll be safe, and that’s the important thing.
I got the Kid, and apologized profusely to her wonderful and gracious care-giver. I was not the only one late last night. Not by a long shot. We got home about an hour past her usual bedtime, so it was into the PJs and into bed with her. No time for the usual rituals, but she didn’t seem to mind. Not like her dad, who apparently expects order in all things.
After she was dressed and bundled up for bed, I picked her up to go into the crib. She put her arms around my neck, laid her head on my shoulder, and closed her eyes. It took everything in me to put her down and let go.
I’m normally home by 5:15 every day, but I walked in the door last night just before the little had got to the 8. Let’s see, I left the office at 4, and got home at 8. For those of you who didn’t major in the maths, that’s about 4 hours. 45 minutes on the train (normal), followed by 3 hours 15 minutes driving the remaining 22.3 miles. Since math isn’t my strong suit either, I’ll leave it to you to figure out my average speed. Back of the envelope guesstimates put it at somewhere around 0.
Let us further compound the situation by adding that the Wife was also in traffic at last an hour behind me. Where was the Kid, you ask? Daycare, I reply. I’m driving the MINI, and the Wife is in the grown-up’s car. Have I mentioned that there is no car seat in the MINI? I have. Decision time: Do I go home and get the other car seat and somehow jam it into the MINI with a crowbar and some Vaseline, or does the Kid wait at daycare for mommy to arrive? We decided on option 1. Lo and behold, the car seat does fit in the MINI, although it’s not a configuration that makes anyone happy. At least she’ll be safe, and that’s the important thing.
I got the Kid, and apologized profusely to her wonderful and gracious care-giver. I was not the only one late last night. Not by a long shot. We got home about an hour past her usual bedtime, so it was into the PJs and into bed with her. No time for the usual rituals, but she didn’t seem to mind. Not like her dad, who apparently expects order in all things.
After she was dressed and bundled up for bed, I picked her up to go into the crib. She put her arms around my neck, laid her head on my shoulder, and closed her eyes. It took everything in me to put her down and let go.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)