Category: general

Where I put something when I’m too lazy to categorize it.

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pert near impossible

Not even going anywhere...

It’s 10pm and, because we only have the one car at the moment, I couldn’t go to the gym tonight (Sharaun had the vehicle for her volleyball game). So I stayed home and played with Keaton before I put her to bed. Then, I decided I’d write (I’m doing that now) before I’d read a little, finishing off the book I’m in (haven’t done that yet, but have a strict be-done-writing deadline of 10:30pm so I can). Let’s go.

Feeling guilty, maybe, tonight I took the house to task a bit. I focused on the kitchen and master bedroom, mostly because I think Keaton needs to be responsible for her bedroom and toy room (and this behavior needs to be taught and continually reinforced, but I digress). Most of the scattered mess is random half-unpacked suitcases stretching back to travels as musty and dusty as our Thanksgiving trip to Florida.

This time, I can blame that solely on Sharaun. Once she packs a suitcase, it’s pert near impossible to get her to unpack it again. I’d do it myself, and make one of my trademark “piles” of unsavory materials (a technique I learned from my Dad, I fear, where I stack various items I feel aren’t where they should be in some conspicuous place as a passive-aggressive message to any opponent of tidiness), but she’s forbidden me from doing so, claiming there are unwraped Christmas gifts for me still half-packed inside. So, they rot.

As I was putting Keaton to bed tonight, I found myself wishing once again that she was done with nighttime diapers. She’ll be four in February and she’s still can’t make it through the night without one (not technically true, but you get my meaning). All her friends her age are out of diapers for good, and most of them have been for a while now. We’ve tried all sorts of different things… but so far nothing has worked. She’s great during the waking hours, using the bathroom at will and as trained as you’d expect any almost four-year-old to be; it’s just overnight that gets her.

Sharaun has a theory that she’s just a super-sound sleeper. She’s come in after naps sometimes (no diapers at naps, if we even get a nap) to find her having peed multiple times and not even stirred. She swears she read somewhere that kids who are really hard sleepers often have a harder time recognizing the impulse to get up and use the potty; no idea how that explains not being able to learn to hold it… but that’s her theory. I don’t really know… she is a pretty deep sleeper, so maybe there’s something to it.

We’ve tried doing no diapers and just dealing with the daily cleanup, but we got tired of the added work after two weeks of nightly accidents (sometimes more than one per night, which isn’t easily managed with a limited amount of fresh bedding). We’ve tried a psychological approach, “You’re a big girl, right? Well big girls don’t use diapers at night.”

And, I must admit, I, at least, have even tried twisting the psychological approach by adding the element of shame, “None of your friends still use diapers at night. Not Jake, not Gracie, not Matthew; no one.” I know, I’m a bad dad… but I’m telling you, I’m tired of diapers. We’ve tried a graduated approach, using pull-ups as some kind of intermediary “Look! They’re almost underwear” fakeout. All to no avail.

The only thing we haven’t tried is the high-tech approach one of my buddies swears by, where you hook some loud wetness-sensing alarm thing into their underwear. When it picks up on the first molecule of liquid it apparently sounds a loud alarm, theoretically waking the child and helping them remember to use the bathroom instead.

I haven’t tied this because, #1 it sounds all crazy 1984 loony and #2 who the crap wants to be scared awake by an alarm in the middle of the night because they are peeing? Seems like that scenario is a setup for some kind of future therapy… or at least some kind of unwanted urination/loud-noise subconscious association. Really though, I’ve not tried it because it’s probably expensive and sounds like too much like shock therapy, literally.

So we soldier on, going through diapers at the pace of one-a-day. At this rate, we may actually have two kids in diapers come next July. Now that thought is bumming me out. What do you think? Maybe she’s just not ready. Still, I’d love for her to ditch the diapers…

Goodnight.

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the creeping mess (or, keaton knows)

Sleeping on the couch.

Tuesday already?

One more week until work slows to a near stop. For all most folks will care, as good a “stop” as any real “stop” would be. No, we’re not one of those companies who “shut down” for the holiday weeks, but, effectively, the pace of business (depending on where you work at the sawmill, I suppose) dwindles significantly.

For me, one of the lucky folks who calls on customers (some of whom who do shut down for the season), things grind to an almost-halt. This will be most welcomed. Lately, I’ve been buried and I’m ready for a break. Our Christmas plans are strikingly stark; we plan to do the thing at home with the family. We may join some friends for Christmas day afternoon and the meals and good fellowship which accompany it, but other than that we’re kicking it family-style.

I don’t have much for tonight. We did tell Keaton about her coming new brother or sister, and video’d the conversation, but it wasn’t as all-out hilarious as I thought it might be and something crazy happened with the audio to where it’s got a terrible background hum. Even after several passes of noise reduction and voice amplification I was left with a slurry mess that isn’t worth further cleanup. So, you’ll have to take my word for it: Her reaction was underwhelming. I think she knows what’s going on, but almost four year olds are used to immediate pay-off, and this thing doesn’t satisfy there. Maybe as Sharaun’s belly grows and grows and grows it’ll sink in more for her. We’ll see.

OK folks… that’s enough for this evening. Off to load some 24-bit Beatles files onto my iPod (see the ‘tweener entry below for some context). Goodnight.

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beaten to the punch

Wet but happy.

Hi internet friends. Hope you had a good weekend, mine was a mixed bag.

I mean, how can a trip to Disneyland be bad, right?  Well, it can’t, really… but it can be… challenged.

First off, it rained.  Just a little on Friday, but more on Saturday.  And, since Saturday was my “get in free on your birthday” day, that was kind of a bummer.  Ultimately, though, the rain didn’t bring us down nearly as much as I’d have guessed.  The whole crew had ponchos and rain gear and we were relatively well outfitted for inclement weather.  Besides, the rain kept the throngs away from the park, so the lines were nearly non-existent and we were able to walk on almost everything.

Second, sometime around noon on Saturday (my birthday) I started to feel pretty run-down.  Things took a turn for the worse while we rode the jungle cruise and I battled hard to keep the cold pizza I had for breakfast from making a curtain call.  After that it was only a few more short hours of walking around in the rain feeling nauseous before I called it quits and headed back to the hotel to get some rest.

In the end it didn’t work out too bad, though, as the rain really started coming down in the later afternoon and forced our whole party back to the room to join me in my quarantine.  So, our two-day trip got cut short by half a day, but I don’t think any of us was wont for a good time.  Proof that not even rain or liquid poo or upchuck can hamper a trip to the magical Disneyland.  That place cures (almost) all that ails ya.

In other news, Sharaun is fast coming to dislike the brand new hardwood floors she wanted for so long. And, with each disparaging remark about how easily they dent and scratch I feel more and more dumb for dropping so much money on them. I know she’s not complaining to make me feel bad, but when she does, I do. In her most recent fit of floor-dent panic, I find myself arguing against a completely ridiculous “Keaton can’t play on them” rule. Guess we should’ve got the cheaper laminate or maybe just upgraded the carpet…  I’m still working on convincing her that these minor surface marks should be seen as “character” and are something near unavoidable, but, as yet, she’s just not buying it.  Oh, she will, as the stuff is glued down and not likely to go anywhere anytime soon.  She’ll come around folks, I swear…

In other other news, if you’re a Facebook denizen (as most of you I’m assuming are) you may have seen that Sharaun trumped me at getting an announcement into cyberspace: We’re scheduled to have baby #2 sometime in early July next year.  We are indescribably excited about this, and I’m feeling somewhat personally vindicated after the brief concerns over the working-ness of my junk.  My plan, being that I plan disseminating news like this around the internet, was to announce the good news here on sounds familiar by simply posting the video of us telling Keaton she’s going to have a new baby brother/sister.  And, now that the world knows, we’re planning on doing that today – so if I’m quick with the editing you may see that tomorrow.  For now, here’s a screeny of Sharaun’s Facebook announcement… since she beat me to the punch:

What shall we call this fetus, y'allz?

OK I think that’s enough for today.  Took the car to the body shop this morning, maybe I’ll have an update on the damage by tomorrow.

Goodnight.

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just wanted a burrito

Sigh.

Left the house to head to Chipotle; Sharaun wanted a burrito.

I’d stayed home from work today to help around the house because she’s sick.  I did laundry, vacuumed, the dishes, tidied, fed and played with Keaton.  All so she could rest and, with luck, recuperate for our trip to Disneyland this weekend.  We were both hungry, burritos sounded good, and I took it as a good sign she had an appetite for the first time that day.

Five minutes from the house I had to make a quick stop as the line of cars in front of me stopped at the light kinda snuck up on me.  I was able to stop, but was closer to the car in front of me than I’d like to be.  Without time to even blink, the car behind me slammed into me; hard.  I felt my head jolt back and then forward again as the force of the impact pushed me into the car in front of me.  Two big bangs and it was all over.

After we all pulled off to the shoulder and figured out everyone was OK, I checked the damage.  Oh man.  The brand new car that Obama bought us… all jammed up and busted.  Such a sad sight to see.  It actually still opens and closes, and, apparently, the car drives OK.  But, I’m a bit loath to take it down to LA tomorrow anyway.  Looks like we’ll be packed into Sharaun’s car instead.

And man… my neck hurts.  Hope it’s OK for Space Mountain by Friday.

Goodnight.

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as busy as i want it to be

Loser.

Hey guys thanks for commenting.  I love when you comment; I truly do.

Tuesday was another jam-packed day.  If it wasn’t work, it was something outside work.  Sometimes I feel like, being counted among the comparatively (on a global scale) wealthy American middle class means we have just enough freedom-to-move in our lives that we end up smashing too much in.  Between our professional obligations and leisure or recreation, we often smoosh so much into our days that we don’t take enough time to reflect.  Worse, much of what we cram into one go-round of the clock is of little consequence.

Sometimes, when each day feels bookended by sleeping and waking alone, with not a moment’s breath to spare in between, I find myself craving a respite.  It’s then that I fix my sights on some future even and start thinking of it as the “finish line.”  The whole, “Oh, I can’t wait until Christmas; then I’ll finally be able to relax” thing.  I guess it’s a very human thing to do, but sometimes it’s a bit delusional.  There’s no real “finish line,” I just need to make time, prioritize, and take care of what’s most important.  Each day can be as busy as I want it to be.

But, failing actualization around that idea… I am indeed looking forward to Thursday this week.  Why?  Because after work that day, we make the drive down south for weekend at Disneyland. I get in free a’cause of my birthday, and we’re spending two full days at the park – this time with some good friends and their kids for company.  So this week, Thursday is my finish line.  And if I can only keep pace until 5pm on that day… everything’ll be alright.

Everything’ll be alright.  Goodnight.

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dusted

My heart won't melt it.

Good Tuesday to ya, folks.  Hope your week began well; mine was a busy blur of missed connections (wanted to get a haircut, couldn’t; wanted to put up the tree; couldn’t, etc.).  At least I got to the gym.  Now I’m going to write.

Sunday afternoon, a little later than I’d wanted to, I broke out my own ladder and a borrowed extension job from a buddy, and set to hanging the Christmas lights.  I hadn’t done it in a few years since we’re normally out of town, and being all exposed up there in the biting cold and wind reminded me why.  But they’re up now and they look mighty cheery.  The tree, unfortunately, has fallen victim to the busyness of our evenings and remains un-assembled and un-adorned (yes, we do the fake thing).  We’re thinking maybe tonight (which would be tomorrow night, as I write).  Things have just been too hectic for the both of us until then.

Let’s talk about a few other things, but let’s make a pact to keep it short, OK?  I want to finish my book tonight.

Last night the local weatherman promised the unthinkable: snow here in the foothills.  Where we live in particular, we haven’t seen snow in some thirty years.  Sure enough, this morning we woke to a light dusting that stuck around until the noon hour before melting away.  I woke Keaton around 7:30am before going to work to show her the snow through the windows; Sharaun took pictures and posted them to the Facebook (what she does); and it was all the talk around the water cooler at work.  Sometimes I think it would be nice to get a little snow around Christmas… you know like on the days when your refrigerator and pantry are stocked enough to keep you eating like royalty, the cable works and football is on, and you can read a book by the fire and not have to go anywhere.  Those days are fine for snow.  I guess if we lived a few more miles up the road…

Guess the season is here.  Goodnight.

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fumes

Ugh.

Friday Eve and we’re out of the house, relying on the charity of friends.

Why?  Because the hardwood floors went in today and the house reeks of fumes.  I mean, it’s pretty bad.  You can look on the Facebook if you want to see pictures of it; Sharaun is on top of the Facebook.  Me, I just write words.  So, words: The flooring looks good.

They’re about 80% done I’d guess, with some finishing work to do tomorrow but likely not a full day’s effort.  And, as much as we wanted to hang around and admire it, we’re limited to the bedroom and it’s just too stinky.  So we had Keaton call up Jeff & Kerry and invite the family over.  “Can we come to your house tonight,” she asked, “Ours is too stinky.”  Thankfully they didn’t have the heart to deny a three year old in distress.

Yesterday at work my laptop crashed.  The brand new SSD (solid-state harddrive) crashed and burned; two measly months old.  Yeah I was crippled at work today, but more importantly I had a rough go at blogging last night and tonight.  It’s funny how accustomed I’ve become to having a computer at arm’s reach.  The iPhone is something of a workable substitute, but it’s just a bit to small to be my full-time armchair connectivity.  Anyway, the IT folks say I’m supposed to get it back tomorrow, so I should have it for the weekend.  Good thing… because I have the DTs already.

This weekend has been designated our official Christmas-preparedness weekend.  Up goes the tree, the house lights, and all the other interior and exterior trimmings.  Keaton is more than excited about helping me do all of the above.  She’s promised to help me do everything from climbing the ladder onto the roof to topping the tree with our topper.  I’m actually excited about it too; I like when Keaton helps me do “guy stuff.”  Makes me feel all “dad” and whatnot like I’m showing her how to drive a stick or mow the lawn.

Teamwork; we got it.

Goodnight.