a year ago today

One year ago, I met A. 365 days of ups, downs, lefts and rights...but after it's all said and done...I'd wait in line to ride this coaster again. Maybe even with my hands up the whole time this go 'round.

(Whether or not she would? Well, um, you'd better ask her. I mean I'd like to think yea, but it's never good to speak for your girl on stuff like this.)

I'd like to take this opportunity to quote from one of my fave movies, Tombstone, about Wyatt and his ladyfriend, Josephine, and their one life together, after their two unfulfilled lives separate and apart...

"Wyatt and Josephine embarked on a series of adventures. Up or down, thin or flush, in 47 years they never left each other's side."

For some reason this speaks to me. Maybe you feel the same. It's not always easy, one or both of you is gonna misstep at times. That's natural. We're human. Well, most of us. Don't waste time and focus on the bads when there are oh so many more goods. And even a couple greats. Probably more than a couple. Maybe even a bunch. Like a sack full of greats. From the great store where you are a lifetime member. That'd be cool.

why are there Star Wars drawings on this blog?

These drawings, my lil' scrib-scrabs, are the result of some time on - and a cell phone in - my hands. Inspire something in you, perhaps they do? The need to conversate with others, it makes you feel? Pick up a crayon, you want to? Color a book, and in the lines you will stay? Or realize that perfect, life is not. Like these cartoons, life is. Scribbly and unpredictable, yet beautiful, life can be...to those who wish to see it. 

Here, look...more...


    title: "now who's the Padawan, son?!"
    medium: pen cap on Samsung Caliber screen



    title: "move outta my way"
    medium: pen cap on Samsung Caliber screen

"a day on dagobah, by pen cap" (drawn on Samsung Caliber)

"use the saber, luke...by pen cap" (drawn on Samsung Caliber)

Old News, New Life

Over some steak fajitas at the best Tex-Mex restaurant in the world, Desperado's on Greenville Ave, A and I had what I like to call a "blog-inducing" conversation. In the middle of a tricky queso to salsa to ranch chip dipping, she began to talk about how she wishes things in the past didn't happen with others, as to then been able to have had them happen with me instead. Errrrt! Tap the brakes. Put the fajita down. This convo just got kinda sorta serious. Went from small talk to let's talk in record time.

You see, I don't like to deal in "what ifs?" I don't see the benefit in it. I do, however, see the harm. Living with the constant pangs of what coulda been leaves you spinning your wheels in a stagnant mess, unable to truly see what then can be. I'm no doctor, but I'm thinking the daily stress people put their mushy brains through just thinking about the past and how they are gonna build that time machine to change it, isn't so healthy. I see it as literal metaphorical baggage that they are carrying that limits their ability to live life. I likened it to A carrying a huge suitcase full of clothes she can never wear anymore. Does her no good to lug it around. Gets in the way. Won't fit in the trunk. Drop the bag already.

If you are behind the wheel of a car, but drive while looking in the rearview, you're gonna crash. Same thing goes for driving your body down life's potholed streets. Eyes on the road, kid.

And while I got your attention, holding your partners accountable for one bad apple in the bunch is bad news. For you, for them, for the planet's ecosystem. There's rotten apples all over the ground, doesn't mean your apple isn't worm-free. It doesn't make sense to keep something one person did way back when zipped up in the side pocket of your little "freak out bag" and then turn around, open it up, and dump it out all over someone else like it's dirty laundry and they get to sort it out. Nope. Experiences tend to happen. Bad ones gotta happen to. Helps you learn what "good" means: Opposite of.

If you live your new life with your new partner constantly worrying about old experiences...Houston, we have a problem.

Kami, Kami, Kami, Kami, Kami Chameleon...

We welcomed home a new addition to the house yesterday - our 8th child. Yep. EIGHT kiddos. One of which, the new one, lives with us 24/7 now. Isn't that crazy? Every time someone hears I have 7 kids, they freak out, their jaw smacks pavement, and their mind explodes. Now, with our new little bundle of pure joy, the same people just might literally blast off into outer space and start satelliting our planet.

Yep. Meet Kami. Our Min-Pin "rescue" pooch. She was A's pup from her past life, and unfortunately until now, was caught in a divorce Dante Purgatorio-esque holding area. But, now we got our precious girl and she's part of the fam. In such, I am gonna buy her this Superman (er, Supergirl?) Halloween costume they have at Old Navy for like $10. You know, to properly integrate her into society here. Plus, she's getting Star Wars toys as well.

A is a little upset that, for some reason, Kami is partial to my aroundness moreso than her aroundness. Of course, she loves A with all her little heart....but right now as I type this, Kami is sitting on my lap while A is on the big couch in the living room. Alone. On the big, comfy suede sectional couch. Alone. Well...she has the TV and her laptop with her. And her morning cup o' Joe. So, I guess not alone alone. Anyhoo...

Here's a pic of our happy girl.

2 things

1) Three year-olds love to guide you through the tubes of the play areas at any and all McDonald's playplaces if you indulge them. But, then they will leave you somewhere at the top for minutes on end. Their only explanation: "Wait here, I'll be right back."

Luckily they have little plastic windows for me to stare blankly through and remember what the outside world looks like.

2) E has found an alternative to "hold me by my wegs!" He now likes to sit on my shoulder. Head above the clouds. Kinda like a way cooler version of a parrot. But that doesn't make me a pirate. I don't want to be a pirate.

"han & chewy as youths, by pen cap" (drawn on Samsung Caliber)

Attention Shoppers!

Okay, for those ladies that didn't know or for the men haplessly trying to buy them clothes...

Papaya (Psst! Click it. It's a link to the store!)

Now ya know...and knowing's half the battle. Yo Joe!

Papaya's like Forever 21, but classy-ish. More sophisticated-er. Basically, less of a mess. The prices are ridiculously good. I dare say great. A's fave store. Her BSFF (Best Store Friend Fo'evs.) No lie.

Guy, gals, shoppers...that one is fo'free. On the house. Fo'sho.

you're all you get (PFTR...#15)

There comes a time - today! - when you have to suck it up, face fact and realize you cannot run from who you are. You take you with you wherever you go. You can't sprint faster than yourself in a mad foot race to try and change the unchangeable.

Instead, embrace who you are, what you have become and will become. Sure, substitute any bad for good in your everyday demeanor, but other than that, you are stuck with yourself. Deal with it. Learn to love that fact and instead of ignoring those people you have brought onto your lifefarm, bring them in, help them sow your fields and their fields, milk the moo cows, tend that land. Make good of all that you can. You're on a narrow, one way street...no use fussing with the inevitable.

Own your life. Just own it. And give thanks and praise often.

Role Model Tools

**UPDATE**

Okay, I went back and added 99 tools for the role model to use while engaging and interacting with their little ones. I call them tools. Feel free to call them weapons if you want. That you take into battle each and every day. Doesn't matter. Just use them. Trust me.

And I added only 99 tools. Why not 100? Just to round it out? Because you are the 100th tool. Ha. Just realized that made you sound like an actual tool, like you wear Affliction shirts and you're over 25 and you aren't a mixed martial artist, but I was just meaning you, yourself, are a tool in guiding your kiddos to their ultimate greatness.

So check them out. Some of that stuff I was like, "No way they make that!" But guess what? They do.

***

Notice, there on the right, above those SuperRoleModel t-shirts, you'll see a list of "role model tools" from Amazon.com. These help bridge the gap of time and space, and allow the kiddos and I to truly bond on another level. A level far, far away from the everyday.

Watch. Play. Learn. Grow.

and...

May the Force be with you. (I will be adding some superhero stuff soon, so, yea, look out for that as well.)

Star Wars Bible Lessons

Just closed the curtain on The Empire Strikes Back. Cinema gold. The boys watched it. The girls...eh, they watched whatever Nickelodeon is peddling these days.

A was thinking how several of the things said about the Light Side of the Force by Yoda & The Gang could be used beautifully as openers for Bible lessons. Hm, using SW as a tool for turning the younglings onto GOD. Not a bad angle. Agree with her, I do.

By the way, totally saw that one random Cloud City dude that they turned into an action figure that I mentioned in my last post.

By the way way, the question-a-thon continued during the movie. At least this time, I had all the answers.

I'm an action figure!

Okay. Let me catch my breath. I guess I had it coming, but the flood gates on the Star Wars question-a-thon have blown off and floated on down the river.

Now, I fancy myself a better-than-novice SW trivia guru, but not so much when it comes to the after, and in-between, worlds of the comics. The movies...I got it. Done. But the comics...I'm hit and miss. And ever since I scored some SW two-figure packs complete with comic books, I have been batting questions away like a madman from this pitching machine of question lobs gone crazy.

The extended universe is vast. And, er, interesting. In a sort of did George Lucas really okay this or was he just like, "ah...whatever..." kinda way. Because some of these characters...dude. Out. There.

But it's Star Wars, so automatically cool nonetheless.

Oh...

and...

Whilst I was toy shopping, I noticed they are putting out all kinds of new SW action figures. Like obscure, "who's this guy?" action figures from the original trilogy. One dude they made is a random blink-and-miss Cloud City semi-official who's claim to fame was destroying some secret Rebel info before the Empire could retaliate on the system for aiding in Luke's escape. Guy's snapshot on the package was him running around a corner holding what looked like a propane tank. Yea, no doubt this cat was an extra on set, or maybe possibly a sub-sub-subterranean character that the editor's didn't quite have room for, but nowhere in the trilogy is this dude mentioned.

He's a total marketing ploy setup by the powers that be trying to sell just one more toy to guys like me trying to get his kids to be all down for SW. And even though I think that's cool, unless you're collecting the entire series - or you were that extra on set all those years ago - then the kids are never gonna want that dude. Think about it. They can choose Luke or Darth Vadar or Boba Fett or Han Solo...but choose random dude? Nah. Ain't gonna happen.

Good try though. Because if you were that dude, how pumped would you be right now? I'm an action figure!

"boba, by fingernail" (drawn on Samsung Caliber)

Learning to Learn

I was bored at work and flipping through my phone when I realized something: most of the pics I have stored in there are of either A - duh, she's my superGF - and E - duh, he's the like the cutest 3-yr old ever. However, there are six other kiddos that are barely blipping the radar on my phone's picture area. Kinda made me get to thinking...

In all honesty, I feel a stronger connection to him, because he feels a stronger connection to me. He's the youngest, and maybe I feel I have more time to help him grow into the most wonderful man on the planet. By no means do I think I missed the bus on the others, but at 3, I gots me some time to get to parenting, you know?

And yea, J-Boy is 4, but he has already developed such an independent nature. He's got a little bubble around him. And I see it slowly dissolving, but there is still some resistance there. And G is 7, and at the age where he needs a guy to kick the ball in the yard with him, which is why I sense the second strongest bond with him. Although, according to Yoda, he may seem defiant and unpredictable at times, I will certainly take him on as a Jedi-in-Training (Padawan for my Star Wars friends.)

Lil' B is 9 and seems the most reluctant - at times - to get on my side. Sometimes I see a glimmer of hope that he will take to me as another parenting unit, but I by no means ever try to push that upon him. I was around his age when my parents divorced, too, so I get his nervous attitude. Patience is a virtue...one I happen to be born without, but as I stated before, perhaps Sam's Club will one day stock it in bulk. Until then, I take things day by day.

And then there's the girls. Lil' A is 10. At first I literally thought she hated me. Lasers beams and daggers from her eyes to my face. But as time and trips to Cici's have happened, what I once felt was a genuine disgust for my general well-being has proven to be her way of actually showing she likes me. Sure, she talks back and questions my authority at most every turn, but I'm guessing that's what 10-yr old girls think is funny. Right?

Now for J-Girl. She's 12. And probably the most even-tempered kid of the bunch. She's always got a smile on her face and probably literally increases the "happy meter" in the room by ten to fifteen points every time she enters it. Except for E, because he doesn't so much like being kissed on the cheek, and J-Girl tries to do that to him every five seconds. What can I say, she loves her lil' baby bro. And she seems to like me, too.

I've even gotten a couple hugs from her - which seemed awkward at the time because they were "just for whatever" hugs - but now, looking back, were amazingly awesome things. I imagine girls don't hug people they don't like...unless they're putting "kick me" sticky notes on their backs. Lemme check something...

And, last but never least, is M. She's the teenager. And the one who, unfortunately, has had to take on both the roles of sibling-taker-carer-of and normal 13-yr old this past year. She certainly does more than her fair share of looking after her sis and bro squad, which leaves her physically exhausted at times. Not to mention, emotionally drained. And this on top of the physical and mental exhaustion of a being a teenager. A female teenager. I can't imagine. I don't want to imagine.

With so much activity happening around a house with 7 kiddos, I have only had one real, meaningful convo with her. She and A had words, and she yelled at her mom. A came to me distraught, explaining what had happened. After I let the two of them cool down, I went upstairs and spoke with M. It was clear she was frustrated, being treated like a child, but expected to act like an adult. I got it. I could see where she was coming from and I simply told her that her mother knew she was in pain, and only wanted to help. We both did. We try to make her life as fairytale and wonderful as possible the times we get her. Wires got crossed and miscommunication set in.

Moments later, they talked it out and it was fine. I wasn't looking for a segue here, but, communication is vital in all relationships. And it's not like I just discovered that all Plymouth Rock-style, it is something I have to be reminded of all the time. We all do. Unless you're some communications guru who teaches a communication class about communicating. If so, sign me up.

So somewhere way up those paragraphs, I had a point-in-the-making. It was that although I felt E was my best chance at helping to raise one of the kiddos from "scratch" because of his age and his affinity for me, I was wrong. It doesn't matter the age. I'm 32 and still learning things. Every one of these kids need me the same amount, some of them just don't know it yet. And if they do, they show it in their own way...

And I'm fine with that. Besides, how old was Luke - like 20-something? - when Yoda began to train him? I'll make Jedis of all these kids long before then.

Space Out

Space is not just for Millennium Falcons anymore...it's for earthlings like you and me. And I can't speak for you - well, I could, but maybe I shouldn't - but, I need my space - not MySpace, nobody needs that anymore - so I can unwind, recharge and otherwise chill after work.

And yes, this is something that directly relates to A and I, and probably 99.5677% of most all other couples out there in peopleland. Call it "down time." I call it "me time," and I need it from time to time. Mostly daily. I just want to get home, check my email, pay bills (ugh), and kick my feet up after serving the Man for the better part of 15 hours a day, M-F.

By no means should the space takee feel slighted or liked any less, nor should they feel rejected or unwanted. People need space. That is why it was invented. Like sleep helps the body heal itself, space helps the mind clear out the junk drawer.

If anything, the takee should feel happy that the taker will be more pleasant and sociable as soon as rejuvenation process ends.

It's kinda like that Ohh-Ahh feel Mattress Giant is always singing about.

Just say "it's diet."

For some reason still not yet within my grasp, our lot o' 7 has a deep-seeded dislike of diet anything. Maybe because they equate diet drinks with old people who, for the most part, are consuming the stuff. Maybe they equate it with our fluffier pals who, for the most part, kinda need of the stuff. Maybe they simply equate it with grossness. Any answer will work because I love Diet Coke and it's slightly sweeter cousin, Diet Dr. Pepper. They are my coffee. Every morning. And then scattered throughout the day. You may well call it an addiction. But, hey, it's better than crack, right? Or cigarettes. Say no to drugs, kids. D.A.R.E. to be different.

This dislike of diet works great with the kids not taking our drinks at Mickey D's, or here at the house. They ask, "Is this diet?" and we always say, "Yep." It's pretty awesome. Equally as awesome is when we decide to have an adult beverage - which is totally allowed my fellow role models, even around the kiddos in moderation - they look at us with our frosty bevies and give us the eye like "whatchoo doin'?"

"Is that diet?" they query.
"Yep, this here is diet," we gladly retort.
"Oh."

So now Diet Coke and beer and margaritas and other sinful delicacies are ALL diet, thus unappealing to the kiddos and not something they look forward to trying out. Because we all know, diets are for old, fluffy people like us, not them. Never them.

By the by, yes, in my new profile pic that is a healthy-looking margarita A and I are sharing at the celebration of my 32nd year on this planet last May. See, role models know how to party AND raise the youngins up right. I think they call that ambidextrous.

Spider-Man likes Star Wars

Whew! Okay, this 4-day weekend has seemed lengthy. Which is a good thing, but I'm just sayin'...whew. And I guess I have been so wrapped up burrito style in it, that it has been - as my mom mentioned to me today - a while since my last post. But, dude, you guys were Labor Day'ing it all weekend anyhow so what's the diff? So, um, shall we...

...get into the last few days. Okay, first and foremost, we celebrated J-Boy's 5th birthday poolside. With a Spider-Man meets Star Wars theme. Just imagine. What if Spider-Man joined forces with Luke Skywalker and the Rebel gang to take down Darth Vader and the Emperor's Galatic Empire? Crazy. Whoa, but what if Superman joined forces instead of Spider-Man? He'd manhandle at least 100 Stormtroopers simultaneously. And I highly doubt the Sith know anything about Kryptonite. If anything, Krytpon would've been an Outer Rim planet. On the fringe. Further that Tatooine. A place where only Han Solo has the guts to fly. Han Solo is cool.

Wow. Okay. Took the off ramp and toured the countryside for a minute with that sidetrack. Hang on, hang on...J-Boy's birthday. Awesome. My mom got him a Boba Fett action figure. Need anymore be said? Boba Fett. Best. Bounty hunter. Ever.

Yea we had hot dogs and chicken wings, a Star Wars cake with Luke and Darth Vader a la The Return of the Jedi outfits on the top, complete with light-up sabers. We had the works. The goods. Down to two cards, both talkies, with Spider-Man telling him happy bday with one, and Yoda's lightsaber glowing up green with the Star Wars theme serenading us all with the other. Jealous?

So the party was greatness. Want more greatness? I do believe I have successfully brought six of our 7 chill'ins into the Star Wars universe fold. All but J-Girl who doesn't like that there's no planet Earth anywhere. But, she shall soon be turned to the Light Side. I have foreseen it.

They are so down for SW, that M - the eldest - actually was watching iCarly, decided to browse the guide, saw that Return of the Jedi was on, physically exclaimed "Oh, Star Wars is on!" and switched the channel on over. The kids immediately increased the couch population. My Jedi sense tells me that renting Revenge of the Sith for Lil' B as per our "each weekend we get the kids he and I will watch a Star Wars movie, complete from I-VI, until he has seen all 6 and has passed the Jedi Trials agreement" and having the older girls sitting down to enjoy some cinema gold with us is what cinched the deal.

Since The Phantom Menace, curious minds have grown curious-er until they could no longer fight the urge to be Star Wars nerds-in-training. And, so we're perfectly clear. Like Crystal Pepsi clear. Star Wars nerds and regular schoolyard nerds are polar opposites. We are at the forefront of social acceptance and informal conversation the world - nay, the universe - over!

If you don't accept Star Wars, how can you accept the last three and a half decades of American culture? Chew on that, Chewbacca.

Cause of the Month: YOU

You're the Cause of the Month. Yep, you. Don't you deserve a lil' somethin' somethin' for all the long days you put in during the game of Life? Everyday you just spin the wheel and move your car - full of pegs, er, people - ahead that many more spaces and then do whatever the space you land on tells you to do. Ho-hum.

Hey, it might be fun to simply pull over and kick your feet up on the dash, right? See if that white plastic car has a Blu-Ray player in it or something.

So now's the time to treat yourself - if only for a day or two - to some of the finer things this planet has to offer.

A massage? Mini-vacay? Get your nails did? Curl up on the couch watching reruns and eating bon bons? Doesn't matter, because for all the good you do, you need some good back at ya.