It's the Little Things

Typically I use this blog as a soap box to allow my brain to vomit out random tidbits of hilarity that I think the readers may find funny, or to share with you the trials and tribulations that our family endures.  Incidentally, have you ever heard of anyone facing a trial without a tribulation?  It seems that you can have a trial without any big to do.  Trials happen every day like your shoe lace breaking or your gas light popping on to say hello right after you realize you are stuck in traffic and late to work.  Does your gas light have a British accent by the way? Mine does.  Tribulations only seem to come with trials.  I'm not sure that I have ever had a tribulation.  They seem to prefer to frequent famous athletes of African American decent. 

Back to my point,  this is the last day of November and a popular theme on Facebook this month has been thankfulness.  I thought it would be appropriate for me to take a minute and use the opportunity that this blog provides me and spout out a list, (one per day seems to be the appropriate number) of little things that I am thankful for.

1. My family- first and foremost, my motivation for going to work, improving myself and keeping food in the fridge.
2. Gravity - Without it my family would probably leave when annoyed by me.  Gravity keeps them close by.  It also keeps my atoms from getting all up in everyone's business.
3. Spell check 
4. SCIENCE!!! Mostly for thumbing it's nose at the I before E except after C rule.  I is before E and it is placed directly after C... suck it grammar.  Also vaccinations, space exploration, sanitation, and providing pretty much all modern day conveniences.
5. Warm stuff- Included in this is laundry fresh from the drier and a large stack of fresh photocopies.
6. Kneecaps- Anytime I'm watching a movie and some dude gets shot in the kneecaps I think to myself, "Glad I got these beauties."
7. The Movie Predator- If not for this movie it would be weird for me to text my siblings odd hours with the phrase, "GET TO THE CHOPPA". 
8.  The internet - seriously, how much easier is it to not leave the house than it was 15 years ago.  
9. Fudge - Love me some fudge.
10. Giant asteroids- Yeah we don't want one visiting anytime soon.  But I have noticed that my morning commute is pretty light on large reptiles capable of swallowing me whole.  
11. Forgiveness- the reason that my wife does not spend a large portion of her free time slapping me.
12. My parents- good people, dirty minds.
13. Superheroes- I like having an ideal by which to measure myself.  Even if it is a fictional ideal.
14. Orthodontics- Sure, the Brits have Shakespeare, but we have better smiles.
15. Halfway points.
16. Pain medication - There was a time when the best way to deal with getting a limb sawed off was biting down on a leather strap.  No shit.
17. Friends- Really should have been higher on the list, but part of this exercise list is to help us all realize the things that we take for granted.  They really deserve their own blog they are so awesome.
18. Nunchucks - The best way to defend yourself against the Brides of Christ.
19. Time- Although there never seems to be enough of it, it does keep everything from happening at once.
20. Dancing - Both the best way to make my children laugh, and the best way that they can make me laugh.
21. Rubber Gloves - Keeping me millimeters from disgusting stuff.  But important millimeters.
22. My job - I work with quality people and make a difference in the world. Yes I get spat at and punched at, but I get to use my degree and my co-workers are extra rad.
23. Big toes - Just try standing without them, you can't.  Also you look kind of stupid falling all the time.
24. Podcasts - These keep me learning and protecting me from the tyranny of terrestrial radio.
25. The Lottery - Yes I am aware that I am most likely never going to win.  But spending a couple of bucks a week to make my dream of a real life bat cave that much closer is totally worth it.
26. Chocolate - The other reason that my wife does not spend a good portion of her free time slapping me.
27. Jon Stewart & Stephen Colbert
28.  Toilet paper - My number one reason for turning down any opportunity to travel into the distant past.
29. Yo Gabba Gabba - Helping me keep my 1 year old entertained so that I can wash the dishes or do any other task that requires 20 minutes.
30. Lists - Seriously, how difficult would it have been to convey all of this thanks without putting it in list form.

 L&P

 

Turkey Day Leftover Ideas

It seems to happen every year, we get this giant turkey, cook enough food to stuff an army, eat as much as we can but try as me might we just can't get through all of the left overs.

That is why today we are doing a special feature on what you can do with your Turkey Day left overs.

1. Are you feuding with your neighbor? Nothing says keep your dog from doing his business on my lawn like a heating duct full of week old yams.
2. Speaking of lawn trouble, are gophers tearing up yours? Fill an old gym sock with some frozen cranberry sauce and offer it to a hobo as a weapon/ payment. He'll gladly bludgeon those rodents and have a thanksgiving of his own as he feasts on the remains.
3. Hey kids? Do you have a teacher that doesn't grade fairly? Maybe Mr. Zastrow will be a little more generous with the A's after you use the remaining turkey bones in a Voodoo blood letting ceremony.
4. Can't find a parking spot? Try mixing week old cranberry sauce with some old mashed potatoes, place in a microwave safe container and heat for about 13 minutes on high. This will form a bubbling boiling pseudo napalm that you can toss into the eyes of rival motorists. Maybe next time Mr. BMW won't be so quick on the gas pedal.
5. Parents, do you have to many children? But your not sure how to choose which ones to get rid of? Good News! You don't have to make that heart wrenching decision, let mother nature take care of it for you! Blind fold those youngsters and cover your excess uncooked pork in brown sugar, (kids love brown sugar!). Let the feast begin and watch the magic of toxoplasmosis. You'll have fewer mouths to feed and less Christmas presents to buy. Thanks Charles Darwin!
6. Does someone in your neighborhood put up their Christmas tree way to early? Take some common wood screws two pounds of glazed ham, and their family cat. Whats fun about this project is you can be creative with it. If you have letter shaped cookie cutters you can either use them, or just cut the ham into the letters you want to use. Together with your family pick out a fun phrase to get your point across. “It's not December yet bozo!, or Give it a rest!” Screw the ham to their front door late at night or when they aren't home (be sure to spell check). Make sure you use screws and not nails as the sound of a hammer will most likely get you caught. After your done with this project, kill their cat and stuff it through their mail slot.
7. Do you get the feeling that the government is listening in on all of your conversations? Soak some .22 rounds in gravy, and shoot every television, computer, phone, and just to be safe, mirror, in your home.
8. Tired of the local fast food restaurant messing up your order? Take the uncooked gibblets from your Turkey and drop it in their ice machine. Salmonella smoothie anyone?
9. Gypsies are a problem that I think every household has to deal with several times a year. Well they won't be spitting curses on you family or picking your pocket after they feel the wrath of your HAM CANNON! 
10. You can also shred the left over turkey and use it in a soup.

Nature, Nurture, and Naboo

Being a psychology enthusiast I am very familiar with the nature vs nurture debate.  If you are not I will give you a quick overview.  The equation that makes up our personalities is as follows.

Genetics + Environment = You

To put it simpler.  

Your Parents + Your Home = You

The debate is between how much genetics contributes to ones personality versus how much an individual's environment contributes to their personality.  So if you grow up in a great neighborhood, have wonderful teachers, are raised by wonderful people, and have awesome friends, but one of your biological parents lived their whole life thinking that they were Napoleon then there is a good chance that you may be a half a bubble off. 

The genetic contribution is typically downplayed for several reasons.  One of the reasons that we try to play our DNA down is that we are control freaks and like to pretend that we have more control over our lives than we actually do.  I am currently at the age that I realize that I am slowly becoming my parents.  I am lucky in that my parents are pretty awesome.  If I was someone that had less than awesome parents I might really resent the fact that I as slowly beginning to resemble what I despised and deny all evidence that supported that idea.

Another motive for a lack of support for genetic contribution to our individuality is that as American's we tend to embrace the idea that we are all beautiful and unique snowflakes.  The fact that a good portion of what makes us who we are is just a result of a DNA cocktail, it feels like it takes a bit of the magic away.

Lastly, it seems a little racist.  African American's are overwhelmingly represented in our penal system.  Much of what contributes to this fact is poverty, poor education, lack of opportunity, and some good old fashioned racism.  If it is said that part of our actions in life are determined by our genetics then it kind of sounds like individuals of one ethnicity, are more likely to be criminals than others.  This is NOT what the genetic contribution is to personality is saying.

The reason I am bringing this up is that, as I raise my kids, I have found myself in many ways mirroring my parents, (mostly my dad's) behaviors.  Some of this is conscious.  I remember games that my dad played with me and play them with my children.  Other games I play don't realize were games that my parents played with me until my folks fill me in after the fact.  

I am curious as to what traits I will pass along to my offspring.  Whether down the genetic line or through exposure while in our home.

The following is a few examples of conversations I am certain I will have with my kids.

Nurture aka Environment

Kid: Why do I have to roll these dice again?

Me: Because your making a Paladin for D&D.

Kid: But I don't want to make a character.

Me: YES YOU DO!!!

Nature aka Genetics

Kid: Why can't I hit a curve ball dad?

Me: Because you come from crap stock kid.  Now go get your laptop, we are going to play some Castle Wolfenstein.  

Nurture

Kid: Why do I have to clean my room?

Me: Because it's a mess.

Kid: That's a dodge, I want a real answer and supporting evidence.

Me: I'm your dad that's why.

Kid: That's a red herring logical fallacy.  Give me a real answer and cite your sources.

Me: Because your mom will kill us both if you don't.

Kid: Compelling, I'll get it done.

Nature

Kid: Dad there is a girl I like at school.  What should I do?

Dad: Do you think she likes you back?

Kid: I don't know.

Dad: What have you done so far to get her attention?

Kid: I did a weird chicken dance thing.

Dad: I'm... so proud.

So based on my contributions to these little rascals I can fairly safely predict that they will be odd, funny, not exactly athletic, and nerds.  Thank goodness my wife is half the mix.

L&P   

Babies are Expensive!!!

Yes, babies are spendy, I don't just mean just the feeding, clothing, and baby proofing.  I am referring to the fear based industry of baby safety products.  Cribs are the particular focus of my ire today.  When we found out we were pregnant with our current youngest, the wife was excited because some months earlier she had convinced me that we needed to keep the crib that had been collecting dust for a decade in the garage.
I suppose I should point out that "excited she won the crib discussion" was not her first reaction to discovering that we had a baby on the way.  That would make her a petty sociopath.  It was probably in the top 20 among the whirl wind of emotions though.  Moving on.

When I attempted to assemble the crib I found that several parts were missing.  This being the age of  "you can find anything online if you are willing to put in the time and effort" I did a quick google search and learned that our particular crib had been discontinued and the company responsible for said crib was no longer able to sell the supporting parts. Truth be told I could have continued to look and probably would have found the parts I needed.  But if I ever venture into the black market I would like to think it will be for something more exciting than crib parts.  A freeze ray perhaps, or maybe even the thigh bone of one of the Beatles.

Sweet sweet Hippo Bacon, someday you will be mine.

The reason that the crib had been discontinued was that it was found to be unsafe.  This surprised me due to the fact that most products have to go through some pretty extensive safety testing prior to hitting the market.  I imagine this to be even more crucial in baby centric products.  I would think these tests worthy of a CSI montage to demonstrate the passage of several weeks of different models of cribs in wind tunnels and having heavy weights dropped on them and maybe even some animal testing.  Nothing cruel mind you, maybe just fill it with bunnies, you know, for science.

Obviously I want any product that I'm going to lay my offspring in to be as safe as possible.  This is where they get you.  Parental fear is one of the most powerful forces in the universe.  It is a useful force as it kept our ancestors from decorating their children with meat necklaces.  While they were fashionable at the time; they also attracted sabretooth dingos like no bodies business.  The evolutionary advantage of parental fear is what causes us to spend top dollar for the best safety products for our kids.  The evolutionary disadvantage of parental fear is that it also causes us to spend top dollar on things that are trendy so our kids don't get turned into social outcasts.

No matter how ugly

 Back to my original point.  The crib was a lost cause, apparently it was made by someone who obviously hated babies and probably greased some palms to get it pushed through safety tests.  I imagine that previous crib models were recalled due to being burlap sacks filled with rusty nails, wicker baskets packed with cobras, or just a balance beam that the baby was placed on over a wading pool filled with scorpions.

It helps the baby with balance.

So we had to buy a new crib.  Being thrifty and on a budget we did save the old mattress.  The 51 inch mattress.  Which it would turn out, does not fit new cribs as they require a 52 inch mattress.  Now the following may invite judgement but to you I say bring it on.  We just used the mattress and crammed the gap with pillows.  You know what happened?  Not a damn thing.  Yes, there was a small chance that she could have got an arm wedged in it, she didn't.  Of course we did tilt the odds in our favor by using the crib primarily for clean laundry storage, (what you put your clean laundry in your dresser right away? Weirdo!).


So again, we must pump more money into the fear based baby safety industry in order to ensure that our kiddo does not smother herself in her sleep.  For one more inch of mattress.  Dammit.

I know I'm just frustrated about having to spend money and on a logical level I understand that the rules evolve that govern such things as cribs.  As more information is gathered about what is safest I want changes to be made and I certainly do not want to advocate for unsafe equipment to be used by babies.  But supposedly the son of god was born in a barn and he seemed to do pretty alright. Right?


L&P

Racism from Beyond the Grave

I am a fan of zombie movies.  I was a late comer to the genre having been "bitten" by the zombie bug while watching the remake of Dawn of the Dead.  Since then I have enjoyed both of Max Brook's books on the impending zombie apocalypse and several movies of the same flavor.
Fan of the genre is putting it mildly, I have developed a martial art style with the sole intention of fighting the undead.  I also developed a power point presentation and held a seminar.  No shit.

I started reading the graphic novel series the Walking Dead several months before I heard that it was to be adapted for television.  Though there are many differences between the two story arcs, I have enjoyed both.
If you have been meaning to start watching the series I'm going to warn you now that there are spoilers in this post.

One of the reasons that I am fascinated by the zombie genre is that I like seeing individuals work together that would otherwise have nothing to do with one another.  Call me sentimental but when I see strangers unified for the greater good I feel that it is a glimpse into the best parts of humanity.  Like when an entire theater of people collectively yell "Shush!" at the one dickhead that didn't mute his cell phone during the movie.

Being that I am a psychology enthusiast one of the things that I find most interesting about zombie movies is the backgrounds of the characters in the survivor group and how they interact with one another.  The relationships and their interplay can be an interesting insight into the mind of the writers.  For instance, if Hitler had written Starwars, it's a good chance that the main bad guy would have been name Emperor Cohen.

Wait... is that a yamaka?

   As a writer, you want the audience to connect with your characters.  One of the ways that a writer may accomplish this is to ensure that the reader, or viewer, sees elements of themselves in the heroes so that on a subconscious level, it is easier to identify with them.  Ideally you want broad enough appeal among your characters so that you can sell your product.  If all of your survivors were of middle eastern decent and worked as interns at a toothpaste factory, then you would really sow up that middle eastern toothpaste worker demographic.  But you may find difficulty in other markets.  

Now to my point.  There is a running stereotype in horror movies that there is always a black male character.  This character is typically amongst the first of the casualties.  To it's credit, the zombie genre has done a good job of steering clear of this featuring African Americans in many lead and positive supporting roles.  For instance the original Night of the Living Dead featured an African American in the lead role and he was a bad ass.

Undead huh? I got this shit.

That is why, when I began watching and reading the Walking Dead series I was not surprised to see an African American in the cast, but disappointed to see that he seemed to be filling the role as the, "token" black guy.  This is nothing against the actor IronE Singleton.  He did a damn fine job despite having been born with a silly name.
The following is a series of excerpts from the personal journal of Mr. Singleton that I was nice enough to write for him beginning with the day he was cast in the role.

 Day 1:  Dear Journal, I got the part! I'm a little bothered about the fact that they named the character T-Dog though.  I mean seriously, could they come up with a more racist name for my character? They might as well have named him Black Guy.  Oh well, still excited for the opportunity.

Day 30: Well we've been shooting for a while now, I'm feeling pretty confident that my character will stick around for a bit, no other black actors in sight!  As a matter of fact, there is only one other minority, an Asian guy.  Kind of surprised they didn't make him a ninja with all the racial sensitivity they've treated my character with.   Oh well, nice to have a steady pay check for a while.

Day 60: We just wrapped up season two and I haven't seen the last episode but I'm pretty sure I'm still the last black person on the planet.  Not sure how to feel about that.

Day 61: Shit, well that was a curve ball, apparently there is another black person but she's miles away from me and get this, SHE'S A NINJA!!!  If I was the Asian guy I'd be a little pissed.

Day 75: Well, still no other black actors, but the script says that we just found a prison.  I am worried about where this is headed.

Day 80: OK, for almost three whole episodes there was me and two other black guys.  One of them died.  Still stay'n strong!

Day 85: I'm a little concerned with the frequency and gusto with which the writers are eliminating the other minority characters.  There were five guys in the prison, three black guys, a hispanic(ish) guy, and a white dude.  Guess whose still alive?  Me, one of the black guys, and the cracker.  Me and the other black guy are a little nervous.

Day 90: Shit! I KNEW it wouldn't last!  Another black dude shows up and sure enough, I get bit and die!  Fuck this, I'm calling Tyler Perry.

In case I am not painting a clear picture.  I'm a little bothered that Walking Dead didn't keep T-Dog around.  Yes I like that the show is not afraid to kill off main characters because it keeps the viewers on their toes.  I like that it stays close to the source material.  I think I am just a little disappointed that, in our day and age, the writers still feel like we the audience might feel uncomfortable with more than one black male in the surviving group.  Especially T-Dog... he was one of the good ones!
 

I may have a Gypsy Curse

You may ask why I am sitting here soaking my feet in beet juice.  You also may ask why I have a bra on my head and why I have shaved my head or why I have applied my wife's make up to my face.  Well the answer dear reader is simple.  I am attempting to appease a gypsy curse.

If you have been following our blog then you may have noticed that my family and I have had a streak of bad happenings.  I'm a fan of statistics and I have studied the frequency of these unlucky events and as far as I can tell the odds of this much misfortune happening to one family in this small amount of time is roughly the same amount of chance that Hellen Keller had of winning a Darts Championship.

Yesterday I discovered that I have shingles.  Upon the advice of many of my co-workers, upon finding out that my wife and I were expecting twins I began to squirrel away all the sick and vacation time I could.  I currently  have just enough saved up to keep my wife from murdering me for abandoning her with three children under the age of two when I do return to work.  I am going to have to dip into that reserve... awesome.

Also our dryer broke again and had to be fixed.

Also Maggie broke the shower door.

Also the door on our minivan broke.

Also one of my headlights just went out.

Also Maggie hasn't been sleeping so I have been staying up with her and she is scratching her head like she has lice again.

Also Maggie appears to be getting sick.

I understand that the series of inconveniences that my family is struggling with is nothing compared to those who have lived through hurricane Sandy, or those individual's who live in areas where their is a general lack of food, water, and safety.  I did want to acknowledge that my problems are first world problems and temporary.  That being said, this knowledge does little to alleviate the frustration I feel at my current situation.


My working theory for why my family keeps finding misfortune is that I have somehow offended a gypsy.  According to the research I've been doing, appeasing a gypsy curse is more of an art than science.  But from what I can tell it involves some humiliating acts, turning around in circles, and spitting over my shoulder. 

Excuse my while I yank out some chest hair with these pliers.

I think pain is probably supposed to be involved with atoning for whatever offense I committed as well. 
Again, more art than science.

Perhaps I was overheard badmouthing the show, "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding" or any of the other Gypsy based reality TV shows. Which, incidentally strikes me as a REALLY niche market but seems to have lots of followers.  Or perhaps I cut someone off in traffic.  Or perhaps raisin cookies is a favorite among the gypsy community and my inane online ramblings ruffled some feathers, or scarves.

Pardon me again while I down this glass of vinegar and cat hair... yuck.

So whatever it was that I did and whoever you are among the Gypsy community that I offended, I hope that I plan on watching the movie Gigli several times in the next twelve hours.I hope that you are satisfied.

L&P

P.S.

Upon completing this entry I handed it to my wife to proof read.  The baby cried and I picked her up.  Shortly thereafter I was bathed in baby puke.  Not only is the gypsy not appeased, but I am done with fete cheese for a while. 

Change is in the Air

So as my other half has mentioned our family is expecting twins.  This change will be happening, at most, nine weeks from now.  If you are a regular reader then you may already have an idea as to the particular flavor of chaos that we typically wade through.
If you are a first time visitor, I will give you a few minutes to catch up... there you go.

Being that I am not the one constantly knocking things off of the counter with an ever expanding tummy, getting poked at by doctors, or being betrayed by my body and emotions, I occasionally forget that these little bundles of joy are on their way.

This is not to say that I am not excited as I absolutely am.  But it's a special kind of excited.  A terrified kind of excited.  Also, we found out that they are boys.  This is a particular brand of awesome because if I start feeding them protein shakes now then by the time they are 18 they can be professional wrestlers. I imagine that this is what Lewis and Clark felt like as they set out on the Oregon Trail.  Like they were about to discover things, things that they will introduce to the world.  Things that they would be responsible for.  Much like the some of the discoveries of Lewis and Clark, things that may eventually turn hostile and do their best to kill me.  I just vetoed my own protein shake idea.

If they both have goatees then we are f'd.

I am not so much concerned about my ability to parent boys.  I've been parenting girls for a  few years now and as far as I can tell the only real difference is I substitute Princess stuff with ninja stuff, ballerina stuff with football stuff, and Taylor Swift with Pantera.

My real concern is that my wife and I are already stretched so thin.  Attention is the currency of parenthood.  It is how we pay our kids.  You can typically tell how well some children are compensated by their parents.  If you see a kid in a McDonalds play land with his lips wrapped around the ketchup dispenser pumping liquid red into his gaping maw while his mother absently texts standing three feet away from him then it is safe to assume that child is under paid.

On the other hand, a child that smells of Purell, whose hair always looks freshly cut, and whose sense of entitlement makes you feel for some reason that you forgot to bring him something, that kid is overpaid.

It's the kid that has a couple of stains on his shirt, good manners, and a temporary Buzz Lightyear tattoo on his cheek that is properly maintained by his keepers.  That is the balance that I strive for.

Every parent that has more than one child struggles to find a way to balance time between their offspring.
For some parents, such as ourselves, one child demands more payment (attention remember) due to medical needs or the likely hood of reorganizing the food in the kitchen.  On a side note, Maggie insists that bacon need not be refrigerated.  I have found little success at convincing her otherwise.    
My oldest has grown with this reality.  Though there never seems to be enough of either my wife or myself to go around, she has managed to become a remarkable and well adjusted kid.

The baby has served as an attention tax on the other kids as well as the on the attention we are able to pay to one another.  This is pretty much the babies job so you can't resent her to much.  This is where the fear  portion of the new additions to my family arises from.   In short, I am worried that the twins will overtax the other kids and they will throw both my wife and I into the Boston Harbor.  I hope if they do this they have the good sense to not first dress as Native Americans as it would be racist.

Adorable, but also racist

In the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Bilbo Baggins states that he feels like butter spread over to much toast. We are already feeling like that and I'm worried about how being spread in two more directions is going to affect our family. 

 Life has handed my family our fair share of challenges and I like to think that we have handled each struggle with poise, grace, and a lot of swear words.  I know we will rise to this challenge as well.  But, like Lewis and Clark, I don't have a map or a really great idea as to how we will get there.

L&P