So, down to the wire, 2010 and I are about to duke it out. So far today, hm, let's see...
1.Keys got locked in the car at convenience store - oh, the irony! - just down the road from the Galleria. Had to wait 30 min for our insurance company's version of AAA.
2.At the Galleria, they had nothing I wanted which is awesome because I'm always up for driving way over there to that mall where I get to park on the very top of the parking garage and then buy nothing as I wade through the throngs of mall zombies. Upside? A got her some clothes at her store.
3.Kinda got a little bout o' nausea after eating my fave burger on the planet: Friday's Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger. Shocker, you say? Well, it tastes good.
4.At lunch, we decide the best idea for our NYE plans is to lay low. Which seems great. However, additional plans include A and my sis-in-law painting a huge masterpiece. Which means go to Michael's for a canvas. Which means go to Kinko's/Fed-Ex/what are they called now? for a superlarge copy of the picture she wants a pop art art piece of so...
5....the canvas is the size of a small planet, which means the top of the convertible goes down, in temps hovering around 50-degrees. Okay, not horrible. Until I sit in front of Kinko's/"insert store name here" and wait for A, idling the car so I can get some heat on my rapidly freezing digits...and we run out of gas. Naturally.
6. I get to walk a nice chunk of pavement over to Tom Thumb's mini-gas station, purchase a "huge" gas tank that holds what I can only assume is "gas moisture" because after 2.3 seconds at the pump, it was overflowing. I hiked back to the car and poured it in the tank. It maybe misted a little in there because I think we almost ran out of gas, again, as we rolled up to the pump.
That brings us to here and now, where we realized that we left Kami running amok in the house the whole time we were gone. I haven't surveyed for any damage yet. I don't want to. I thought A was supposed to put her in the kennel before we left, she thought I was. So....
Hey, 2010. Beat it! We had a lot of good times, but you and me? I don't know...
Bring on 2011.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
two weeks, I hardly knew ye!
Ugh. When "two weeks" is in the future, it sounds like a long time. Two weeks. Wow. 14 days. That's more than several. But when "two weeks" has just flown by with a ton of laughter, a little crying and a bunch of fun...it seems like the least amount of time in the world.
A just left to take the kiddos back to their dad's after their Christmas break with us. Man this house is quiet now. More like, empty. I'm actually starting to tear up thinking about this...but at least A's not here to see it because she always says she never sees me cry. Of course I do. Cry. What, am I a robot? I've just been on the better side of happy during this past year we've been together.
Deep breath. Okay. Christmas is over, the kids are gone, no more tug-of-war with the Xbox controllers, no more "he stole my Lego dude's hat" and no more running to me when they get hurt wrestling upstairs as if I have magically healing hugs. We had a few bumps and bruises in the upstairs landing/wrestling ring these passed days, but I'm happy to report no injured reserve list at this time
I told the kiddos that, yea, if you wrestle, you may get hurt. Part of any sport. But I limited the guys to no punching or kicking, so the action was mostly grappling and tackling into the couch anyway. Maybe a pillow or four were thrown. These boys are tough. Especially J-Boy who's like a pit bull. Tenacious little dude.
And the girls and I played some Monopoly - M won a game and I won a game upon a declared rematch. We bonded - I guess that's the term - over wedding talk and which of the girls gets to do what during the ceremony.
They went dress shopping a few times with their mom as well. From what I gather, the outings went wonderfully. Stuff is being planned. Events are in the works, that sorta thing. I wasn't allowed on those excursions - being the groom and all - to get the full details, so I rather feel as if I'm on the periph of these things, really just happy to be included.
Yea. So. The kiddos are on their way back to their other home. Wow, it's quiet. Not gonna lie, I need the time to write my novel and get some other stuff done, but I am really looking forward to the next weekend we get them again.
I think we'll go to Cici's.
A just left to take the kiddos back to their dad's after their Christmas break with us. Man this house is quiet now. More like, empty. I'm actually starting to tear up thinking about this...but at least A's not here to see it because she always says she never sees me cry. Of course I do. Cry. What, am I a robot? I've just been on the better side of happy during this past year we've been together.
Deep breath. Okay. Christmas is over, the kids are gone, no more tug-of-war with the Xbox controllers, no more "he stole my Lego dude's hat" and no more running to me when they get hurt wrestling upstairs as if I have magically healing hugs. We had a few bumps and bruises in the upstairs landing/wrestling ring these passed days, but I'm happy to report no injured reserve list at this time
I told the kiddos that, yea, if you wrestle, you may get hurt. Part of any sport. But I limited the guys to no punching or kicking, so the action was mostly grappling and tackling into the couch anyway. Maybe a pillow or four were thrown. These boys are tough. Especially J-Boy who's like a pit bull. Tenacious little dude.
And the girls and I played some Monopoly - M won a game and I won a game upon a declared rematch. We bonded - I guess that's the term - over wedding talk and which of the girls gets to do what during the ceremony.
They went dress shopping a few times with their mom as well. From what I gather, the outings went wonderfully. Stuff is being planned. Events are in the works, that sorta thing. I wasn't allowed on those excursions - being the groom and all - to get the full details, so I rather feel as if I'm on the periph of these things, really just happy to be included.
Yea. So. The kiddos are on their way back to their other home. Wow, it's quiet. Not gonna lie, I need the time to write my novel and get some other stuff done, but I am really looking forward to the next weekend we get them again.
I think we'll go to Cici's.
the blog is tangible
So, the 25th veil has been lifted, the flowly red velvet curtain has been pulled back, the crumbled, poorly taped wrapping paper has been torn away, and now...I can safely mention...that A and I used Blog2Print/Shared Book to make this digital wordplace of adventure posts a printed, hardcover reality for some of our family members this Christmas.
That's right...Adventures in Role Modeling went on a little adventure itself. Into 3-dimensional realness. Not like wearing weird glasses in a movie theater 3-D, but like, you and me real. A tangible post-tree paper product that you can flip through. It is pretty awesome. And from this...
A surprised me by pulling from this blog about 60-some odd sayings and morsels of advice into a second hardcover coffee table-esque type book that we have lovingly dubbed-
PLEASE STAND BY. Although a few of you have seen the second book, and even know it's catchy little name, and perhaps have even seen my scribbly cover drawing for it...I am gonna keep this one a secret a little while longer because, as it turns out, I may have something really awesome in the works and I don't want to spoil the surprise. God willing. And I mean that not as something people off-handedly say as sort of a joke, but as literally, it will work out if God wants it to. Not a fan of off-hands or bad jokes.
More on things as they develop.
That's right...Adventures in Role Modeling went on a little adventure itself. Into 3-dimensional realness. Not like wearing weird glasses in a movie theater 3-D, but like, you and me real. A tangible post-tree paper product that you can flip through. It is pretty awesome. And from this...
A surprised me by pulling from this blog about 60-some odd sayings and morsels of advice into a second hardcover coffee table-esque type book that we have lovingly dubbed-
PLEASE STAND BY. Although a few of you have seen the second book, and even know it's catchy little name, and perhaps have even seen my scribbly cover drawing for it...I am gonna keep this one a secret a little while longer because, as it turns out, I may have something really awesome in the works and I don't want to spoil the surprise. God willing. And I mean that not as something people off-handedly say as sort of a joke, but as literally, it will work out if God wants it to. Not a fan of off-hands or bad jokes.
More on things as they develop.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
the return of...I Believe...#15
It's so frustrating when you scratch the surface of pretty much most things on this planet and you find that things are not even close to what the package declares the insides will be. Truth in advertising, remember? That go the way of the dino, did it?
Things should be as pure, as right, as honest down to their core as their surface says they are. A deeper meaning of the same vein should be revealed, not a whole different ballgame altogether.
This isn't me judging, but rather being an acute, opinionated observer of the clearly observable.
Things should be as pure, as right, as honest down to their core as their surface says they are. A deeper meaning of the same vein should be revealed, not a whole different ballgame altogether.
This isn't me judging, but rather being an acute, opinionated observer of the clearly observable.
the start of a book club?
Just finished an amazing book we borrowed from A's dad called Heaven is for Real by Todd Burpo. It's the real-life story of a little kid's journey up to heaven where he met some incredible individuals...namely Jesus. And I am pretty set on calling this one a "real-life story" because, as you well know by now, I have some some little kiddos - and while they do have some mighty decent imaginations - I don't think their ability to make up several distinct, Biblically-accurate details on a whim are quite up to snuff.
Plus, this kid in the story, Colton Burpo, has maintained his story from age 4 up until today, without varying the details at all. The stories are still the same, and it's pretty hard for the young ones to remember the lies they make up for even a few hours, let alone a few years.
So...amazing book. I recommend you read it. And like me, it may make you want to hop online to see if anyone else experienced the same visit up to heaven as did Colton. I surfed the net and discovered that there are numerous accounts of that trip having been booked, taken and then talked about across the globe. Probably as much as, say, UFO sightings and alien abductions, but for some reason, many people are quicker to believe in those things before they are to believe in God and His Son Jesus. I think that's supercrazy. And don't get me started on what I think aliens and spacecrafts and all that stuff really is.
I love the argument about needing scientific proof to prove a historical fact. Reminds me of this other great book, More than a Carpenter by Josh and Sean McDowell. He (Josh) was a hardcore skeptic of the whole "Christian agenda." And, on a bet, set out to make it crumble to the ground.
Instead, he found tons of historical proof, backed by non-Christian manuscripts that were written at the same time as the Bible, that proved the stories to be true. Undeniably according to every document, Christian or not, that he discovered on his way to un-prove Christianity is this: there was a man that walked the earth named Jesus...and he performed miracles that friend and foe alike witnessed. And one of those was overcoming death and making the most amazing "jail break" from a guarded tomb that time will ever see.
The guards didn't fall asleep. They knew that doing so would result in their own crucifixion. The guards didn't abandon their post. They knew that doing so would result in their own crucifixion. The people didn't go to the wrong tomb. People all over the land knew exactly which tomb they placed Jesus in. Remember, killing him was their mission. His body was their trophy. Do you forget where you put your trophies?
Didn't think so. Read the books.
Plus, this kid in the story, Colton Burpo, has maintained his story from age 4 up until today, without varying the details at all. The stories are still the same, and it's pretty hard for the young ones to remember the lies they make up for even a few hours, let alone a few years.
So...amazing book. I recommend you read it. And like me, it may make you want to hop online to see if anyone else experienced the same visit up to heaven as did Colton. I surfed the net and discovered that there are numerous accounts of that trip having been booked, taken and then talked about across the globe. Probably as much as, say, UFO sightings and alien abductions, but for some reason, many people are quicker to believe in those things before they are to believe in God and His Son Jesus. I think that's supercrazy. And don't get me started on what I think aliens and spacecrafts and all that stuff really is.
I love the argument about needing scientific proof to prove a historical fact. Reminds me of this other great book, More than a Carpenter by Josh and Sean McDowell. He (Josh) was a hardcore skeptic of the whole "Christian agenda." And, on a bet, set out to make it crumble to the ground.
Instead, he found tons of historical proof, backed by non-Christian manuscripts that were written at the same time as the Bible, that proved the stories to be true. Undeniably according to every document, Christian or not, that he discovered on his way to un-prove Christianity is this: there was a man that walked the earth named Jesus...and he performed miracles that friend and foe alike witnessed. And one of those was overcoming death and making the most amazing "jail break" from a guarded tomb that time will ever see.
The guards didn't fall asleep. They knew that doing so would result in their own crucifixion. The guards didn't abandon their post. They knew that doing so would result in their own crucifixion. The people didn't go to the wrong tomb. People all over the land knew exactly which tomb they placed Jesus in. Remember, killing him was their mission. His body was their trophy. Do you forget where you put your trophies?
Didn't think so. Read the books.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Barry Christmas!
Barry is an elf. He hides on a shelf. Or a ledge. Or on top of the refrigerator or kitchen cabinets. He watches and reports back to the jolly round man at the North Pole. You didn't think Santa was a clairvoyant, did you? He's not God. Duh.
Barry was spotted by E, G and J-Boy - the early birds -Christmas Eve morning sitting atop a kitchen cabinet. He was quiet as a mouse, never taking his eyes off the boys.
"Shhh! You don't want to scare him away. He's watching you guys to make sure you're being good."
"I know. I heard him this morning...flying," said E, then by J-Boy.
Important to note that my reaction to this statement, in my head, was: "That's kinda ookie. You heard him? Yikes. Horror movie."
Of course, my actual reaction was...
"Really? Cool. Well you better give him your Christmas lists so he can fly off to give them to Santa."
So they did. And then ran upstairs. And wouldn't you know it...a half hour later, the kiddos came back downstairs to see Barry and the letters gone, but he'd left a letter of his own to them. He told them thanks for writing to Santa, and that if they believe...they'd receive. He also mentioned something about Santa was keeping an eye on Lil' B and the girls as well.
* * *
Fast forward to this morning, Barry came through with the goods. Santa had apparently brought them some righteous stuff that they wanted, via no shortage of help from my mom, my dad, A's parents, my bro and sis-in-law, my grandma, A's grandparents, A's bro and his wife, and others I'm sure that I'm forgetting to mention...gosh, they're starting the music, man, better wrap this up...oh yea, and A and myself, too, I must say. I mean, the guy, St. Nick, is good, sure, but he's getting up there in years and requires the assistance of the adults from time to time.
And, also Dad bought them brand new bikes and mom hooked them up with helmets to keep them safe. They were ridiculously happy. A gaggle of giggly kiddos.
They had an amazing Christmas, and I've never heard the word "awesome" uttered as many times in one sitting pretty much ever in 32 years.
I wish you the merriest of Christmases! Hope it is blessed!
Want to learn more about Barry and his pals? Check out http://www.elfontheshelf.com/ for the goods.
Barry was spotted by E, G and J-Boy - the early birds -Christmas Eve morning sitting atop a kitchen cabinet. He was quiet as a mouse, never taking his eyes off the boys.
"Shhh! You don't want to scare him away. He's watching you guys to make sure you're being good."
"I know. I heard him this morning...flying," said E, then by J-Boy.
Important to note that my reaction to this statement, in my head, was: "That's kinda ookie. You heard him? Yikes. Horror movie."
Of course, my actual reaction was...
"Really? Cool. Well you better give him your Christmas lists so he can fly off to give them to Santa."
So they did. And then ran upstairs. And wouldn't you know it...a half hour later, the kiddos came back downstairs to see Barry and the letters gone, but he'd left a letter of his own to them. He told them thanks for writing to Santa, and that if they believe...they'd receive. He also mentioned something about Santa was keeping an eye on Lil' B and the girls as well.
* * *
Fast forward to this morning, Barry came through with the goods. Santa had apparently brought them some righteous stuff that they wanted, via no shortage of help from my mom, my dad, A's parents, my bro and sis-in-law, my grandma, A's grandparents, A's bro and his wife, and others I'm sure that I'm forgetting to mention...gosh, they're starting the music, man, better wrap this up...oh yea, and A and myself, too, I must say. I mean, the guy, St. Nick, is good, sure, but he's getting up there in years and requires the assistance of the adults from time to time.
And, also Dad bought them brand new bikes and mom hooked them up with helmets to keep them safe. They were ridiculously happy. A gaggle of giggly kiddos.
They had an amazing Christmas, and I've never heard the word "awesome" uttered as many times in one sitting pretty much ever in 32 years.
I wish you the merriest of Christmases! Hope it is blessed!
Want to learn more about Barry and his pals? Check out http://www.elfontheshelf.com/ for the goods.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
so...it's not a thumb then?
Had to laugh at E this morning. He calls his thumbs "big pinkies." He was playing with some Chinese handcuffs - you know, the weaved finger things where they get stuck and the only way to get them out is to push in, the exact opposite of what you'd think to do. He was choosing which fingers to use and went to put his thumb in, but stopped and said...
"Oh. I can't use my big pinkie."
I thought it was so funny, I had to hear him say it again.
"So what do you call that finger again?"
"It's my big pinkie...Bwennan!"
"Oh. I can't use my big pinkie."
I thought it was so funny, I had to hear him say it again.
"So what do you call that finger again?"
"It's my big pinkie...Bwennan!"
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
the early Christmas at mom's of 2010
So about that early Christmas at my mom's I mentioned previously...great success! All the kiddos loved their girfts. The boys with Legos and Spider-Man (yes, that's how it's written) and Iron Man and Batman and army dudes and Hot Wheels. The girls with their crafts and glittery girly stuff which looks kinda cool I guess but remember I'm a dude who didn't grow up with sisters and has only had soon-to-be step-daughters for about five seconds so I'm still not really sure about the whole girl gift giving situation yet. So...
Yea, awesome. Which is exactly what E kept repeating with an added "this is sooo..." everytime he looked at his Iron Man race car and accompanying action figure. The kiddos were so stoked - did I just write stoked? - um, okay, they were super excited about the gifts bestowed upon them by my mom, Mema my brother and sis-in-law.
And vice versa, mom loved her book...details later...Mema loved her sweatsuits - you read that right, my grandma loves a good pair of sweats - and my bro and his ladyfriend were blown away by A's paintings of their doggies. They mentioned that they had no idea what to expect - ahem, except for sheer brilliance, right? - but that this was absolutely amazing.
Oh, back to the boys' gifts. I could've used "toys" there instead of "gifts," but then again I'm one to try and rhyme shoe with table. Anyhoo..they wanted to open everything right then and there, at 9P, an hour after their standard rate bedtime. Not happening. Lost Legos and missing army guns upon the day of receipt, at my mom's? At night? On the first day of winter that happened to be very un-wintry? That's got no good written all over it. All signs point to "no."
They opened them instead this morning, after attempting to wake us up at 6...6:30...7....7:30....8...then 8:11 or something. I finally rolled out of bed in a zombie-esque state and offered up the way things were gonna go down: all the boys were gonna take baths first, put on clean clothes after, eat breakfast, clean up after themselves when they were done...then I would help build Lego lands and children's imaginations.
UPDATE: As I was writing this, E and J-Boy came into my office upset that G wouldn't let them play with his new Lego set because "the babies always break them." I told the "babies" that they were technically G's toys to control - he was the "boss" of them we say - and while sharing would be supercool, these are brand new toys and he's likely to want to play with them for a bit without the help of others.
I told E that just like when he doesn't let Lil' B play with his Iron Man ball because he simply doesn't want him to, that it's the same thing when G doesn't want him to play with his stuff. And a + b = c...
But, I imagined that sooner than later he'd allow them to play with the Legos when they weren't so fresh outta the box. That seem to...I guess calm them down? I'm sure that they got no satisfaction from it, but when I told E that I "was gonna steal his nose," he laughed and ran off. So there's that...
Kinda went off in a tangent. Wasn't I talking about the early Christmas at my mom's? Yea. About that...the brisket fajitas were really quite muy sabroso! And queso, well that's always right on time. Oh, and then my mom made Snickerdoodles - my personal fave. So that was a win for the books. And she made some cupcakes with this buttercream (?) icing that ruled cupcakeland, or at least is a shoe-in for the next election.
So now we wait for Christmas Christmas and the rest of the opening of gifts from my mom for the kiddos, and from my dad for the kiddos, and everything from us for the kiddos, kiddos, kiddos, kiddos...
I do want, however, the kids to know the real reason behind the presents, the lights, the trees, the get-togethers, the yadda yadda yadda. But we always say that right?
Nobody celebrates the real reason, but the novelty reason built up around it. The store-bought reason. And that is great for kids, kinda. Maybe. Maybe not so much. I'm still battling with it. I mean as a kid, Christmas to me was about "me, me, me what did I get, wait why did they get that but I didn't?" And that's what it still is for kids today. Perpetuated my the world around us...and believe it or not, by us. Shocker.
And while you can't take the present giving out of Christmas - that'd be oh-so Scrooge-like -we can add in to the holiday reasons for real celebration. Toss some Jesus in the mix aside from the dusty manger scene you have stashed in the corner of the room. And that may not even be Biblically accurate saying the Magi possibly got to Jesus when we was around 3 months old already living in a shack, not laying as a newborn in a manger. I don't know for certain, I wasn't there, but I hear things. So...
Yea. I think I heard somewhere that present giving was originally supposed to be symbolic of the gifts Jesus received when he was visited by those Magi. Gold, Frankincense and Mir. You know the story. At least before handing the kiddos their fifth action figure toy or crafts set...this year we're gonna tell them why we're giving them gifts on this day in the first place. And why they should be thankful to get anything in a world where so many more get nothing...
...ever hear of a couple bucks & a Bible? Exactly.
I had more points to banter on about, but the courts have already been superbusy with a lot of cases from a rotating cycle of miffed plaintiffs and defendants in Judge Brennan's office today...and I've completely forgotten where I was and what I wanted to talk about. Anyhoo...
Mom's Christmas went really great. Good stuff.
Yea, awesome. Which is exactly what E kept repeating with an added "this is sooo..." everytime he looked at his Iron Man race car and accompanying action figure. The kiddos were so stoked - did I just write stoked? - um, okay, they were super excited about the gifts bestowed upon them by my mom, Mema my brother and sis-in-law.
And vice versa, mom loved her book...details later...Mema loved her sweatsuits - you read that right, my grandma loves a good pair of sweats - and my bro and his ladyfriend were blown away by A's paintings of their doggies. They mentioned that they had no idea what to expect - ahem, except for sheer brilliance, right? - but that this was absolutely amazing.
Oh, back to the boys' gifts. I could've used "toys" there instead of "gifts," but then again I'm one to try and rhyme shoe with table. Anyhoo..they wanted to open everything right then and there, at 9P, an hour after their standard rate bedtime. Not happening. Lost Legos and missing army guns upon the day of receipt, at my mom's? At night? On the first day of winter that happened to be very un-wintry? That's got no good written all over it. All signs point to "no."
They opened them instead this morning, after attempting to wake us up at 6...6:30...7....7:30....8...then 8:11 or something. I finally rolled out of bed in a zombie-esque state and offered up the way things were gonna go down: all the boys were gonna take baths first, put on clean clothes after, eat breakfast, clean up after themselves when they were done...then I would help build Lego lands and children's imaginations.
UPDATE: As I was writing this, E and J-Boy came into my office upset that G wouldn't let them play with his new Lego set because "the babies always break them." I told the "babies" that they were technically G's toys to control - he was the "boss" of them we say - and while sharing would be supercool, these are brand new toys and he's likely to want to play with them for a bit without the help of others.
I told E that just like when he doesn't let Lil' B play with his Iron Man ball because he simply doesn't want him to, that it's the same thing when G doesn't want him to play with his stuff. And a + b = c...
But, I imagined that sooner than later he'd allow them to play with the Legos when they weren't so fresh outta the box. That seem to...I guess calm them down? I'm sure that they got no satisfaction from it, but when I told E that I "was gonna steal his nose," he laughed and ran off. So there's that...
Kinda went off in a tangent. Wasn't I talking about the early Christmas at my mom's? Yea. About that...the brisket fajitas were really quite muy sabroso! And queso, well that's always right on time. Oh, and then my mom made Snickerdoodles - my personal fave. So that was a win for the books. And she made some cupcakes with this buttercream (?) icing that ruled cupcakeland, or at least is a shoe-in for the next election.
So now we wait for Christmas Christmas and the rest of the opening of gifts from my mom for the kiddos, and from my dad for the kiddos, and everything from us for the kiddos, kiddos, kiddos, kiddos...
I do want, however, the kids to know the real reason behind the presents, the lights, the trees, the get-togethers, the yadda yadda yadda. But we always say that right?
Nobody celebrates the real reason, but the novelty reason built up around it. The store-bought reason. And that is great for kids, kinda. Maybe. Maybe not so much. I'm still battling with it. I mean as a kid, Christmas to me was about "me, me, me what did I get, wait why did they get that but I didn't?" And that's what it still is for kids today. Perpetuated my the world around us...and believe it or not, by us. Shocker.
And while you can't take the present giving out of Christmas - that'd be oh-so Scrooge-like -we can add in to the holiday reasons for real celebration. Toss some Jesus in the mix aside from the dusty manger scene you have stashed in the corner of the room. And that may not even be Biblically accurate saying the Magi possibly got to Jesus when we was around 3 months old already living in a shack, not laying as a newborn in a manger. I don't know for certain, I wasn't there, but I hear things. So...
Yea. I think I heard somewhere that present giving was originally supposed to be symbolic of the gifts Jesus received when he was visited by those Magi. Gold, Frankincense and Mir. You know the story. At least before handing the kiddos their fifth action figure toy or crafts set...this year we're gonna tell them why we're giving them gifts on this day in the first place. And why they should be thankful to get anything in a world where so many more get nothing...
...ever hear of a couple bucks & a Bible? Exactly.
I had more points to banter on about, but the courts have already been superbusy with a lot of cases from a rotating cycle of miffed plaintiffs and defendants in Judge Brennan's office today...and I've completely forgotten where I was and what I wanted to talk about. Anyhoo...
Mom's Christmas went really great. Good stuff.
Monday, December 20, 2010
give and let give
A Lego Star Wars Xbox game, a Han Solo action figure, an Iron Man ball and Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Four things of E's that I helped him gift wrap as presents for...well, me. He gave me some of his favorite toys for Christmas. On the condition that we share them once I take possession of them. But nobody else can play with them. My presents are just ours. I thought that was pretty awesome. He's such a cool little guy.
Even more awesome is the way he wrapped them, by first dragging out the paper from the hall closet and ripping off a good-sized chunk to surround the various gift with. Who needs scissors? Not a 3 yr-old, I can tell you that.
I was then in charge of using the regular tape, then the clear shipping tape...then the duct tape - tape is not a readily used commodity in our house, hence the scarcity - to seal up any of the rough edges in the artistically-covered multitude of gifts of which I was bestowed for the holidays.
I also noticed that under the tree, there sat a large present wrapped in green paper for me from Lil' A. Plus, I hear she stuffed everyone's stockings with a lil' somethin' somethin' tonight as well...
So it seems that the giving spirit is a-plenty this Christmas at our humble abode. That's actually pretty sweet.
Tomorrow we venture to my mom's to have an early Christmas dinner where we'll exchange gifts with her, Mema (my grandma), my bro and his wife. A painted them an amazing set of three art pieces depicting their three pup-pups. She's a madwoman with acrylics. Scary good.
And the food at my mom's is gonna be my fave: a Mexican-food type of thing with brisket fajitas, homemade salsa, queso, Kroger's bakery's fresh made tortillas (believe it!)...the works. So...
Ole!
Four things of E's that I helped him gift wrap as presents for...well, me. He gave me some of his favorite toys for Christmas. On the condition that we share them once I take possession of them. But nobody else can play with them. My presents are just ours. I thought that was pretty awesome. He's such a cool little guy.
Even more awesome is the way he wrapped them, by first dragging out the paper from the hall closet and ripping off a good-sized chunk to surround the various gift with. Who needs scissors? Not a 3 yr-old, I can tell you that.
I was then in charge of using the regular tape, then the clear shipping tape...then the duct tape - tape is not a readily used commodity in our house, hence the scarcity - to seal up any of the rough edges in the artistically-covered multitude of gifts of which I was bestowed for the holidays.
I also noticed that under the tree, there sat a large present wrapped in green paper for me from Lil' A. Plus, I hear she stuffed everyone's stockings with a lil' somethin' somethin' tonight as well...
So it seems that the giving spirit is a-plenty this Christmas at our humble abode. That's actually pretty sweet.
Tomorrow we venture to my mom's to have an early Christmas dinner where we'll exchange gifts with her, Mema (my grandma), my bro and his wife. A painted them an amazing set of three art pieces depicting their three pup-pups. She's a madwoman with acrylics. Scary good.
And the food at my mom's is gonna be my fave: a Mexican-food type of thing with brisket fajitas, homemade salsa, queso, Kroger's bakery's fresh made tortillas (believe it!)...the works. So...
Ole!
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The E Dictionary
E has his own language. I'm teaching a course in the Spring. Here are some samples:
The E Dictionary
Backyoom - noun: mechanical thing that picks up dirt off the rug (see: vacuum)
Cheen - noun: the opposite of dirty (see: clean)
Tami - noun: the family dog (see: Kami)
Weaving - verb: departing (see: leaving)
Wego - noun: plastic building pieces that are awesome (see: Lego)
Wegs - noun: what your knees and feet and stuff are connected to (see: legs)
PAST TENSE USAGE: Most past tense words have an "eended" or an "-ded" at the end of them.
For example: "I just cheended your office with the backyoom cheener."
For example: "I just builded a Wego house for my dude."
The E Dictionary
Backyoom - noun: mechanical thing that picks up dirt off the rug (see: vacuum)
Cheen - noun: the opposite of dirty (see: clean)
Tami - noun: the family dog (see: Kami)
Weaving - verb: departing (see: leaving)
Wego - noun: plastic building pieces that are awesome (see: Lego)
Wegs - noun: what your knees and feet and stuff are connected to (see: legs)
PAST TENSE USAGE: Most past tense words have an "eended" or an "-ded" at the end of them.
For example: "I just cheended your office with the backyoom cheener."
For example: "I just builded a Wego house for my dude."
"Who am I, Brennan?"
"Who am I?"
The great question that plagues us all from time to time as we trek through life's maze of uncertainty hoping to find answers that reveal our true place in this world and attempt to quench the age old thirst for "why?"...and something we like to know when we play Star Wars Battlefront II on the Xbox. Especially for E.
We play the split screen. Two players at a time. Sure, this version of the game offers up to 4 players at once, but that makes each individual field of play too small to properly give the game a "go." So, split screen it is...
Important to note that E - while a superstar with the Legos - has yet to master the art of video gaming. As such, even though he loves to "play," he never really "plays." We tell him he does to make him happy and to alleviate the frustration of the other kiddos who play along with him as he continues to run his guys headlong into a wall, jamming the screens or otherwise rendering his dude a not-so-"got your back"-worthy helper outer.
So, he has a controller - the unused third one - but we usually tell him he's playing as one of the other boys' dudes. Makes him happy. Makes everyone happy. The only thing...
"Brennan, who am I?"
"Brennannnnnnnn....who am I?!!"
"Who am I, Brennan?"
Since he doesn't have clear control of the player on the screen, he constantly needs to know who he is. Once you tell him, "You're Luke Skywalker," he's tip top. 'Cause Luke is his favorite dude. But don't tell him he's Chewbacca...he doesn't like being Chewbacca.
The great question that plagues us all from time to time as we trek through life's maze of uncertainty hoping to find answers that reveal our true place in this world and attempt to quench the age old thirst for "why?"...and something we like to know when we play Star Wars Battlefront II on the Xbox. Especially for E.
We play the split screen. Two players at a time. Sure, this version of the game offers up to 4 players at once, but that makes each individual field of play too small to properly give the game a "go." So, split screen it is...
Important to note that E - while a superstar with the Legos - has yet to master the art of video gaming. As such, even though he loves to "play," he never really "plays." We tell him he does to make him happy and to alleviate the frustration of the other kiddos who play along with him as he continues to run his guys headlong into a wall, jamming the screens or otherwise rendering his dude a not-so-"got your back"-worthy helper outer.
So, he has a controller - the unused third one - but we usually tell him he's playing as one of the other boys' dudes. Makes him happy. Makes everyone happy. The only thing...
"Brennan, who am I?"
"Brennannnnnnnn....who am I?!!"
"Who am I, Brennan?"
Since he doesn't have clear control of the player on the screen, he constantly needs to know who he is. Once you tell him, "You're Luke Skywalker," he's tip top. 'Cause Luke is his favorite dude. But don't tell him he's Chewbacca...he doesn't like being Chewbacca.
Friday, December 17, 2010
"I'm punching your buttons!"
Had to laugh - on the inside - when today, at Chili's, with crowded seating at a crowded table, crowded with food, sandwiched in between J-Boy's elbow as he goes for chips and salsa and E...who kept bopping me on the shoulder, namely on a button attached to a flap on my jacket while saying...
"I'm punching your buttons!"
Punching, pushing, pushing, punching...you get the picture. Of course I wasn't mad at him, not with that smile, but it was kinda funny(ish) that he happened to say those words when, in fact, my patience buttons were being poked. Anyhoo...
Chili's. Eh, it's okay I guess. We went there to meet my mom, who, understandably, is tired of McDonald's. And we kinda are, too, but with 7 kiddos and a hemorrhaging back account, your options get limited. Of course, we can be - and are about to begin the time honored tradition of - cooking at home. It saves money. It's way better for you than fast food. But with home cooking, what you gain in nutrition, you lose in speedy eats. However, that's the price we pay - or don't pay...as much of...I guess.
So, as mentioned in my last post, Aldi will be a new staple around this house. Not so much a name brand guy anyway as I am a good quality guy. And they seem to have some pretty good stuff - minus, of course, my Diet Coke. Which I cannot, in good conscience, deny myself of in fear of making myself go crazy. What?
So, here I am, at my desk writing this. E and J-Boy are upstairs in a land of Star Wars games and Lego build-offs. Kami...well she's barking at a dog in the street right now, actually. All four of us are awaiting the return of A and the rest of the kiddos to begin their Christmas Break adventure.
Sounds kinda fun...
"I'm punching your buttons!"
Punching, pushing, pushing, punching...you get the picture. Of course I wasn't mad at him, not with that smile, but it was kinda funny(ish) that he happened to say those words when, in fact, my patience buttons were being poked. Anyhoo...
Chili's. Eh, it's okay I guess. We went there to meet my mom, who, understandably, is tired of McDonald's. And we kinda are, too, but with 7 kiddos and a hemorrhaging back account, your options get limited. Of course, we can be - and are about to begin the time honored tradition of - cooking at home. It saves money. It's way better for you than fast food. But with home cooking, what you gain in nutrition, you lose in speedy eats. However, that's the price we pay - or don't pay...as much of...I guess.
So, as mentioned in my last post, Aldi will be a new staple around this house. Not so much a name brand guy anyway as I am a good quality guy. And they seem to have some pretty good stuff - minus, of course, my Diet Coke. Which I cannot, in good conscience, deny myself of in fear of making myself go crazy. What?
So, here I am, at my desk writing this. E and J-Boy are upstairs in a land of Star Wars games and Lego build-offs. Kami...well she's barking at a dog in the street right now, actually. All four of us are awaiting the return of A and the rest of the kiddos to begin their Christmas Break adventure.
Sounds kinda fun...
Thursday, December 16, 2010
So I guess we're going to Aldi...
Tomorrow is awesomeness incarnate. We get the kiddos for their Winter Christmas Break. I'm excited. To be able to see their shining faces for a long consecutive period of days is pretty sweet. And supercool.
So, in preparation for 7 kiddos... A and I will be heading to Aldi - our newest, favorite-est grocery store - to pick up much needed edibles and drinkables for the house. The only downside to this store is that they don't carry our favorite low-carb Dreyer's chocolate ice cream, nor do they carry my mainstay Diet Coke. Or even Diet Dr. Pepper for that matter. I require one of those two carbonated bevies to start, and maintain, most my days.
So, dear readers, prepare for an onslaught of Christmas-time posts about life with the kiddos and my new fiancee, at our very first, all-together celebration of Jesus's birth...and manic toy unwrapping.
So, in preparation for 7 kiddos... A and I will be heading to Aldi - our newest, favorite-est grocery store - to pick up much needed edibles and drinkables for the house. The only downside to this store is that they don't carry our favorite low-carb Dreyer's chocolate ice cream, nor do they carry my mainstay Diet Coke. Or even Diet Dr. Pepper for that matter. I require one of those two carbonated bevies to start, and maintain, most my days.
So, dear readers, prepare for an onslaught of Christmas-time posts about life with the kiddos and my new fiancee, at our very first, all-together celebration of Jesus's birth...and manic toy unwrapping.
Monday, December 13, 2010
it's hard to be humble...
hu-mil-i-ty [hyoo-mil-i-tee or, often, yoo-]
Got a lesson in that today. Not a huge class on it or anything, but a refresher course if nothing else. A and I were in the waning afterhours of our Monday morning Daybreakers meetup when I sat down with one of our regulars, an avid Christian, and we began to shoot the breeze.
I got to talking about how I recently saw (an apparently old) interview of Joel Osteen on Larry King. Larry asked Joel if he believed that when Jesus said the only way to the Father (ie. Heaven) was through Him, if he believed it. Joel of course said "yes."
Here's the kicker...
So Larry then posed the question, "Well then do you believe a Jewish person isn't going to Heaven?"
Joel backpedaled. Stuttered. Ummed and ahhed. But didn't come up with the right answer...which is: according to the Bible, they don't have a Golden Ticket. Sorry, but I didn't write the stuff.
My problem with Joel - the leader of a huge ministry - saying something to the effect of "well, I'm not one to judge and say who's gonna be admitted into Heaven and who's not" was that this answer seemed anything but an answer. I was thinking he should've laid down the law right then and there. I judged him for not giving the only answer there is to that question if we as grown adults are into telling the truth. I judged him and that was that...
Well, today I realized that that was more this: I'm too quick to judge. I have to admit it. Humbling to me, to be sure.
The intelligent gentleman that I was conversing with raised a very interesting point about a different man, who when backed into a corner, was quick to people please to save himself.
"Aren't you with Jesus?"
"Didn't I see you with that man Jesus?"
"Weren't you just with Jesus when the guards arrested him?"
Nope. Nope. Nope. Peter denied Jesus three times. You've heard the story, and you know it ultimately ends with him declaring his love for Jesus three times on the shore after the Resurrection. But - as my wise friend said earlier today - what if we take a snapshot in time? Peter's three denials. And that's all we know of Peter. What would we then think of him? Wouldn't seem like such a great cat, would he?
Well, I did just that. I took a snapshot of Joel and judged him on that one blurb in that one interview, rather than looking at the whole enchilada. And it's not like I judged his entire character. It was one thing. However, be it one small thing or one huge thing, we aren't perfect, so how can we judge? Seems to harken back to a story about Jesus, some smug priests, a prostitute, an unruly mob and a bunch of uncasted stones.
About Larry's question and Joel's non-answer back, how do we know that Joel didn't get on his knees and beg Jesus for forgiveness right after the interview for not being true to the Word? Truth is, we don't. And some more truth is, we love to judge others, blaming them for making mistakes we know we'd never do. Right? Because we're so much better than the next guy. Right? Right...? No?
No. Not at all. Or at least we better not think we are. That's the lesson I was brushed up on today.
And that's the thing a lot of the rest of the world dislikes about Christians. We should be more humble.
–noun
the quality or condition of being humble; modest opinion or estimate of one's own importance, rank, etc.
Got a lesson in that today. Not a huge class on it or anything, but a refresher course if nothing else. A and I were in the waning afterhours of our Monday morning Daybreakers meetup when I sat down with one of our regulars, an avid Christian, and we began to shoot the breeze.
I got to talking about how I recently saw (an apparently old) interview of Joel Osteen on Larry King. Larry asked Joel if he believed that when Jesus said the only way to the Father (ie. Heaven) was through Him, if he believed it. Joel of course said "yes."
Here's the kicker...
So Larry then posed the question, "Well then do you believe a Jewish person isn't going to Heaven?"
Joel backpedaled. Stuttered. Ummed and ahhed. But didn't come up with the right answer...which is: according to the Bible, they don't have a Golden Ticket. Sorry, but I didn't write the stuff.
My problem with Joel - the leader of a huge ministry - saying something to the effect of "well, I'm not one to judge and say who's gonna be admitted into Heaven and who's not" was that this answer seemed anything but an answer. I was thinking he should've laid down the law right then and there. I judged him for not giving the only answer there is to that question if we as grown adults are into telling the truth. I judged him and that was that...
Well, today I realized that that was more this: I'm too quick to judge. I have to admit it. Humbling to me, to be sure.
The intelligent gentleman that I was conversing with raised a very interesting point about a different man, who when backed into a corner, was quick to people please to save himself.
"Aren't you with Jesus?"
"Didn't I see you with that man Jesus?"
"Weren't you just with Jesus when the guards arrested him?"
Nope. Nope. Nope. Peter denied Jesus three times. You've heard the story, and you know it ultimately ends with him declaring his love for Jesus three times on the shore after the Resurrection. But - as my wise friend said earlier today - what if we take a snapshot in time? Peter's three denials. And that's all we know of Peter. What would we then think of him? Wouldn't seem like such a great cat, would he?
Well, I did just that. I took a snapshot of Joel and judged him on that one blurb in that one interview, rather than looking at the whole enchilada. And it's not like I judged his entire character. It was one thing. However, be it one small thing or one huge thing, we aren't perfect, so how can we judge? Seems to harken back to a story about Jesus, some smug priests, a prostitute, an unruly mob and a bunch of uncasted stones.
About Larry's question and Joel's non-answer back, how do we know that Joel didn't get on his knees and beg Jesus for forgiveness right after the interview for not being true to the Word? Truth is, we don't. And some more truth is, we love to judge others, blaming them for making mistakes we know we'd never do. Right? Because we're so much better than the next guy. Right? Right...? No?
No. Not at all. Or at least we better not think we are. That's the lesson I was brushed up on today.
And that's the thing a lot of the rest of the world dislikes about Christians. We should be more humble.
Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master,
nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.
-John 13:16
Saturday, December 11, 2010
i want to punch money in the face
"If you let go of money, you'll be richer than you could ever imagine."
That resonated in my head late last night after paying a heinous monthly payment for A's car. To be fair, I use it just as much as she does, but if you knew me and money, you'd understand.
I've been a slave to money for as long as I can remember. I'm like a miser. But a poor miser. Not having anything resembling Ebeneezer Scrooge money. And it's odd...the poorer I've been, the happier I've been. But, not "happy" like a loon, but more like a huge weight was lifted off of me. I could breathe - borrowed air to be sure - but things were lifted nonetheless.
The more money I accumulated, the more I wanted to hold on to it at times like it was life itself. Then, strangely, I also wanted to spend it. Money isn't sane. In fact, I find it's the furthest thing from sanity. I don't act right when money has the wheel. And most people I know don't either. You have to be some kind of awesome to not become a puppet to money's will.
I used to know the name of the idol people worshipped in the name of money. And not "worshipped" like gave offerings and tithed to, because that defeats the purpose of loving, and being hated by, money. No, there was this name, this something, that people named money in order to rise it above all else. Neither can I remember it, nor locate it on Google. Maybe I dreamt it up. But, that'd be one lousy dream. I want my sleep back.
Anyhoo...I used to be a chaser of money, even when it never wanted to chase me back. We'd play hide n' seek, but it never wanted to be "it." And, in many respects, I still am under it's power. I always say...
"The bills don't pay themselves."
So how does someone free themselves of this burden? Turn the tables on money and make it serve us? I guess that's the $1 million dollar question.
Wait...can we make it $2 million?
Just kidding.
All I know is that I want the weightless freedom being - quite literally - penniless brings, but with pennies involved. But, before you start thinking I'm advocating that being poor is the way to happiness - THINK AGAIN! It is soooo not. And I'm probably jumping the gun and saying I was "poor" when I was just "superlower income." I did have a rented apartment roof over my head...it's just my overdue payment-needing cell phone rang every five seconds with another company threatening to chew my credit down to the nubs if I didn't pay up. Fast forward to today: 20-something Brennan really screwed with 30-something Brennan's financial options.
I mean there is really poor, and then there was me. Sometimes I didn't eat a meal because there was no money in bank, but I never told anyone because that's pretty embarrassing. Who wants to look like they have no control over their money, or worse yet, have no money to control?
I had a full-time job (most the time) and was going full-time to school. Student loans were the only option, so I trotted further down the bad credit spiral staircase because, "money now, pay way way later" sounds great to real world newbies like I was. And don't forget the credit card companies cramming dreamy cards with nightmarish expectations down our throats either. Nobody learns how to properly manage money or even balance a checkbook in high school, yet we're supposed to automatically know how to when we graduate? Lame.
All this is not to incite pity for me...or riots in the streets. To be quite honest with you, this post is for one person: A. I wanted her to know, that I know, that instead of being so quick to honor and value the filthy beast known as money...I should be even quicker to honor and value the beautiful woman that I'm going to marry.
I dislike money.
I love her.
That resonated in my head late last night after paying a heinous monthly payment for A's car. To be fair, I use it just as much as she does, but if you knew me and money, you'd understand.
I've been a slave to money for as long as I can remember. I'm like a miser. But a poor miser. Not having anything resembling Ebeneezer Scrooge money. And it's odd...the poorer I've been, the happier I've been. But, not "happy" like a loon, but more like a huge weight was lifted off of me. I could breathe - borrowed air to be sure - but things were lifted nonetheless.
The more money I accumulated, the more I wanted to hold on to it at times like it was life itself. Then, strangely, I also wanted to spend it. Money isn't sane. In fact, I find it's the furthest thing from sanity. I don't act right when money has the wheel. And most people I know don't either. You have to be some kind of awesome to not become a puppet to money's will.
I used to know the name of the idol people worshipped in the name of money. And not "worshipped" like gave offerings and tithed to, because that defeats the purpose of loving, and being hated by, money. No, there was this name, this something, that people named money in order to rise it above all else. Neither can I remember it, nor locate it on Google. Maybe I dreamt it up. But, that'd be one lousy dream. I want my sleep back.
Anyhoo...I used to be a chaser of money, even when it never wanted to chase me back. We'd play hide n' seek, but it never wanted to be "it." And, in many respects, I still am under it's power. I always say...
"The bills don't pay themselves."
So how does someone free themselves of this burden? Turn the tables on money and make it serve us? I guess that's the $1 million dollar question.
Wait...can we make it $2 million?
Just kidding.
All I know is that I want the weightless freedom being - quite literally - penniless brings, but with pennies involved. But, before you start thinking I'm advocating that being poor is the way to happiness - THINK AGAIN! It is soooo not. And I'm probably jumping the gun and saying I was "poor" when I was just "superlower income." I did have a rented apartment roof over my head...it's just my overdue payment-needing cell phone rang every five seconds with another company threatening to chew my credit down to the nubs if I didn't pay up. Fast forward to today: 20-something Brennan really screwed with 30-something Brennan's financial options.
I mean there is really poor, and then there was me. Sometimes I didn't eat a meal because there was no money in bank, but I never told anyone because that's pretty embarrassing. Who wants to look like they have no control over their money, or worse yet, have no money to control?
I had a full-time job (most the time) and was going full-time to school. Student loans were the only option, so I trotted further down the bad credit spiral staircase because, "money now, pay way way later" sounds great to real world newbies like I was. And don't forget the credit card companies cramming dreamy cards with nightmarish expectations down our throats either. Nobody learns how to properly manage money or even balance a checkbook in high school, yet we're supposed to automatically know how to when we graduate? Lame.
All this is not to incite pity for me...or riots in the streets. To be quite honest with you, this post is for one person: A. I wanted her to know, that I know, that instead of being so quick to honor and value the filthy beast known as money...I should be even quicker to honor and value the beautiful woman that I'm going to marry.
I dislike money.
I love her.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
2 (new) sayings of mine...
On memberships to "member's only" clubs and organizations...
"The only exclusive* club I want to belong to is Christianity. Here, they let me wear flip-flops."
(* to get in, the password is: "Jesus is Risen!")
On dealing with payment for work-for-hire jobs...
"The only thing I take on faith is Jesus...everything else is half down, half upon delivery."
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
what a weekend!
So last Saturday we had a pretty sweet Batman/Star Wars party for Lil' B who turned 10, and G who turned 8. I got this company - fenixgames.com - to come who sets up 6 LCD screens and 6 Xbox 360's and links them all together forming...Megatron! No. But, seriously everyone is able to play everyone else, on their own TV, so for us...no yelling "it's my turn!"
Um, wait, well that did happen once with E while I was dominating the crowd in Halo and there were no seats available, but then he soon played Sonic the Hedgehog with all the colors and flashy-ness and all was forgotten.
The turnout was good. My mom and brother, A's grandparents...and the 9 of us. We had invited some other friends and their kids, but sickness is as sickness does and they were unable to come due to mucus on the field.
And I did feel bad that Lil' B kept asking "is this all that's coming?" I mean, we do live far from their core group of friends - which we will try to rectify as soon as we can! - so getting parents to drive their kids to us may be more of a challenge than if we lived in, say, Plano. Soooo...
It was just us. Which, when you have 7 kiddos running around, it never seems to me like "is this all that's coming?"
In the end though, the boys said that they had the best b-day and smiles were in abundant supply. As were gifts. They got a ton of stuff. Here and...
At their grandparents - A's mom and dad - on Sunday as well. They gave Lil' B and G each a supercool GI Joe dude that was like a foot tall and talked and shot rockets and...I think he could walk on his own. I never had anything like that as a kid. I even remarked to A's mom that:
"When I played GI Joe, the only talking they did was when I talked for them."
It's amazing how toys can pretty much play with or without the kids now. Flip on a switch, grab some snack cakes and a Juicy Juice and watch the live-action cartoon.
And at her parents, the kiddos helped decorate the Christmas tree, and built on their treehouse outside, and...
J-Girl and M climbed to the top of every tree...
...and J-Boy played Legos...
...and G played me in chess after Lil' B played his grandma in chess...
...and A and her dad talked books...
...and Lil' A was playing Bob-ette the Builder on her very own tree hideout...
...while E pushed a dump truck around, adding pieces of bark to the treehouse ladder asking me:
"Is this cool?"
"It's supercool."
The whole weekend was pretty much supercool.
Um, wait, well that did happen once with E while I was dominating the crowd in Halo and there were no seats available, but then he soon played Sonic the Hedgehog with all the colors and flashy-ness and all was forgotten.
The turnout was good. My mom and brother, A's grandparents...and the 9 of us. We had invited some other friends and their kids, but sickness is as sickness does and they were unable to come due to mucus on the field.
And I did feel bad that Lil' B kept asking "is this all that's coming?" I mean, we do live far from their core group of friends - which we will try to rectify as soon as we can! - so getting parents to drive their kids to us may be more of a challenge than if we lived in, say, Plano. Soooo...
It was just us. Which, when you have 7 kiddos running around, it never seems to me like "is this all that's coming?"
In the end though, the boys said that they had the best b-day and smiles were in abundant supply. As were gifts. They got a ton of stuff. Here and...
At their grandparents - A's mom and dad - on Sunday as well. They gave Lil' B and G each a supercool GI Joe dude that was like a foot tall and talked and shot rockets and...I think he could walk on his own. I never had anything like that as a kid. I even remarked to A's mom that:
"When I played GI Joe, the only talking they did was when I talked for them."
It's amazing how toys can pretty much play with or without the kids now. Flip on a switch, grab some snack cakes and a Juicy Juice and watch the live-action cartoon.
And at her parents, the kiddos helped decorate the Christmas tree, and built on their treehouse outside, and...
J-Girl and M climbed to the top of every tree...
...and J-Boy played Legos...
...and G played me in chess after Lil' B played his grandma in chess...
...and A and her dad talked books...
...and Lil' A was playing Bob-ette the Builder on her very own tree hideout...
...while E pushed a dump truck around, adding pieces of bark to the treehouse ladder asking me:
"Is this cool?"
"It's supercool."
The whole weekend was pretty much supercool.
Monday, December 6, 2010
"Wait...you said 'yes' right?"
Okay, so I didn't post yesterday about the proposal like I said I would, but I'm doing it today so that's cool because it was the weekend and you have things to do and people to see and you might not be reading this until Monday anyway so anyhoo...
A and I are ENGAGED!!!! That's right. Gonna get hitched! Tying the knot. Taking the plunge. Insert your own overused phrase about getting married.
So, without further ado, here's the story...
I knew I wanted to marry A a long time ago. She recalls a time that her and my brother were talking and he told her that I must really like her because he's never heard me say anyone was smarter than I was. That's how he knew she was the one for me. How did I know? I guess it's just a feeling. Not so much a hunch, but more of a you don't want to ever picture yourself without her. Type thing. So...
Fast forward through the trials and tribulations of our year and some months together to...ring shopping. We had been talking marriage for a bit, but one day I started to buckle down and hunt diamonds. I, like most people, started my search the online route. Kay Jewelers, Robbin's Brothers, The Diamond Doctor, Diamonds R' Us, Diamond in the Box, McDiamonds, etc, etc...to get an idea of what was out there. FYI, there's a bunch. Too many. Craziness.
(Oh, I knew what I was looking for the whole time. Princess cut solitaire diamond with a white gold band. A made sure I knew - in the off chance that I was in the market - what kinda rock she wanted to rock.)
It was when and where that I was searching for. And I even kinda knew the where. 'Twas the "when" that was the tricky part.
The "where" was easy. Surrounded by the kiddos. That's it. Didn't necessarily matter where, but they were gonna be involved somehow...
...so I got the ring. Ordered it from Los Angeles. Exactly what she was looking for. Then I played the waiting game. Kinda felt like an expecting dad in the hospital sitting around for UPS to delivery the "baby." And then it came...
...while A and I were shopping. I knew it was gonna go down like that. So we come home and both roll up to the door to see that white and brown sticker saying "we really didn't miss you, you missed us...now you have to wait longer for your package" from UPS. Gimme a big ol' Charlie Brown "uuuggggghhhh!!!"
Luckily, since my middle name is Brennan and I share a first name with my dad, I played off this mystery package as something he had shipped to our house for whatever reason. And, as the Man upstairs would have it, A was super busy with work that evening so - darn the luck! - I had to go to UPS and fetch it all by my lonesome. And while we don't condone lying and trickery in our relationship, this one, in the end, was given a pass.
So I waited in line at UPS for an hour to get the ring. Yep, an hour. A was like, "You waited in line for over an hour for your dad's thing? That's crazy." Crazy's right. Crazy as a fox!
The next day my dad was supposed to come by to get "his" package. A thought he did. Ha. Nope. He was in cahoots with me the whole time. Even better? The ring was sitting in it's box in my desk drawer. For like...weeks! And A sits at my desk proofreading these blog posts and my other writing all the time. The thing was right under her nose - literally! - and she was never any the wiser. Talk about hidden in plain sight.
Speaking of which...this leads me to the "when" part of the story. For making it a possibility, I have to give credit to three birthdays: Lil' B, G, and Jesus.
Jingle all the way because Christmas time is here. As such, we have decorated accordingly. Perhaps we did so a tad earlier...but who cares, right? And since that tree has gone up and the presents have gone out, the kiddos have been asking to open "just one" every time I see them. Of course, this time of year, the default answer is, "You can open one on Christmas Eve."
And that was totally my plan, for them to open my "special gifts" on Christmas Eve...but God aligned for something better to happen. But let's back up to the set up before the actual proposal...
A black napkin. Thin paper dyed black, then folded over into square layers. Used once it's entire life to maybe hold a cupcake or act as a coaster for your mixed beverage. Nothing glamorous...to you. But to A and I, it is the beginning of it all.
The very first thing I ever gave her was a black napkin. I was a prop guy for a TV show and she was the featured waitress. I think I gave her some hors d'eouvres on a tray as well, but the napkin was the thing. And that thing has been the thing since...
So I had to incorporate it in the proposal. There are seven words in using her three legal names plus "will you marry me?" We had seven kiddos. Paint each of those words separately on seven separate black napkins and you have something. Wrap each napkin in white tissue paper and put it inside a box, then you're on the right track. Wrap each box with white wrapping paper and top it off with a white bow, you're almost done. Then add each kiddos name randomly, one per gift, with scrolly font printed on white labels and place them discretely under the Christmas tree and you're home free.
Those were to be the presents opened up by the kiddos on Christmas Eve. (Yes, I would've allowed them to open a second gift after the fact. I'm not a monster...)
But, as I said, God intervened. The day before I popped the question, A got to asking me about marriage. And if I knew I was ready and all the things that go into that realm of thought and line of questioning. We were sitting in my office. Her in her chair. Me at my desk. The ring literally a foot away from me. Tucked in the drawer. She was feeling anxious about why I hadn't asked yet...I was feeling, well, good. I had the ring. The 24th was fast approaching. My plan was moving along nicely. Until...
The conversation was over and A was finishing up getting ready so we could go celebrate a friend's birthday. She came into the living room and immediately began to apologize for asking me about an impending proposal. A, if you didn't know, talks with God on a regular basis. And not like "I'm a loon and think I'm talking to God but I'm really talking to a ficus tree." I mean God. She's that in tune to His personal radio station if you feel what I'm sayin.'
She said she was embarrassed. She said God was being sarcastic in His answer to her question that she asked Him while getting ready. She had asked Him if I was ready to marry her and if she was wrong for thinking that He has previously told her that I was. He gave her one name as his answer: Beverly.
It took some prying, but she told me what he said. Beverly. I didn't know a Beverly. She didn't either. She said I better not run off an marry someone named Beverly, I joked that all I know is that "I like the Beverly Hillbillies." However...
As I got to the door, it hit me...
...but, hang on.
Back up. Earlier I had been wrestling with the idea in my mind whether all these Christian things - the charity, my 180-degree life spin, church, reading the Bible - that I'm doing were done because I know it's the right thing to do and it's for show, or that I feel in my heart that it's the right thing to do and it's for real. I was struggling with not being able to see the changes in me because I'm too close to, well, me. Hard to see the forest for the trees type thing. I asked God for a sign...
And he gave A the name "Beverly." When I was opening the front door to leave, it dawned on me...Beverly Diamonds. That's where I bought the ring. Whoa. I had to laugh at God's sense of humor. There was my sign.
And right there I knew my "when." Now to set things in motion on the fly...
On the way to meet our friend, I was telling A how the little ones - namely E - don't quite yet understand why they don't get presents for other people's birthdays. And in the interest of not hurting E's feelings, I felt all the kiddos should get to open one gift the night before the party so to make the whole house happy and warm and fuzzy. She was a little on the fence about it, so I told her to pray about it.
The next day, God told her it was cool. I knew he would! So as A was going to pick up the kiddos for their weekend with us, I called my mom and told her I was gonna propose. She got excited, I suddenly got nervous. It's not that I thought A was gonna say "no," I just didn't want to make the proposal anything less than perfect. I must've counted and checked up on those 7 white gifts under that tree three times a day for weeks. The very same gifts that A said she never noticed the whole time they were there. Remember when I said, "hidden in plain sight." There ya go.
So when A and the kiddos got back, I was ready. Pretty much. Yea...I was good. I guess. Nervous, but ready. Of course I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but, you know...jitters. I had to of been acting weird because later, M said she noticed something was up because I was smiling a lot and acting too happy. Yikes...
I gathered all the kids in the living room and had them sit around the couch. I told them we were gonna let them open one present superearly and I passed out the white gifts. They were obviously lightweight - being filled with tissue paper and a napkin - and the kids were shouting stuff like "it's empty" as they tried to foretell the inner contents.
And once they all had their boxes, I told them to "go!" And they went. "Will" was the first word A said she saw. When M opened hers up and saw "marry" she remarked that she got "the best one!"
It didn't take long for A to see what was going on with the black napkins. She said she couldn't breathe as the mystery sentence was pieced together. The boys were smiling. The girls were "ahhing." And I took a knee. She walked over. I pulled out the black box and opened it...revealing her ring...
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes!"
Success!!! We hugged and kissed. In all the commotion and the kiddos "oohing" and "ahhing" I had to stop and ask, "Wait...you said 'yes' right?"
It was so surreal. And like a whirlwind. That whipped us up and took us to Cici's Pizza where we took the kiddos because I felt bad they really didn't get a present. And it's their fave restaurant. And A likes it a whole bunch, too.
While we were there, M dared me to stand up and tell the whole place that her mom and I just got engaged. So I did.
A and I are ENGAGED!!!! That's right. Gonna get hitched! Tying the knot. Taking the plunge. Insert your own overused phrase about getting married.
So, without further ado, here's the story...
I knew I wanted to marry A a long time ago. She recalls a time that her and my brother were talking and he told her that I must really like her because he's never heard me say anyone was smarter than I was. That's how he knew she was the one for me. How did I know? I guess it's just a feeling. Not so much a hunch, but more of a you don't want to ever picture yourself without her. Type thing. So...
Fast forward through the trials and tribulations of our year and some months together to...ring shopping. We had been talking marriage for a bit, but one day I started to buckle down and hunt diamonds. I, like most people, started my search the online route. Kay Jewelers, Robbin's Brothers, The Diamond Doctor, Diamonds R' Us, Diamond in the Box, McDiamonds, etc, etc...to get an idea of what was out there. FYI, there's a bunch. Too many. Craziness.
(Oh, I knew what I was looking for the whole time. Princess cut solitaire diamond with a white gold band. A made sure I knew - in the off chance that I was in the market - what kinda rock she wanted to rock.)
It was when and where that I was searching for. And I even kinda knew the where. 'Twas the "when" that was the tricky part.
The "where" was easy. Surrounded by the kiddos. That's it. Didn't necessarily matter where, but they were gonna be involved somehow...
...so I got the ring. Ordered it from Los Angeles. Exactly what she was looking for. Then I played the waiting game. Kinda felt like an expecting dad in the hospital sitting around for UPS to delivery the "baby." And then it came...
...while A and I were shopping. I knew it was gonna go down like that. So we come home and both roll up to the door to see that white and brown sticker saying "we really didn't miss you, you missed us...now you have to wait longer for your package" from UPS. Gimme a big ol' Charlie Brown "uuuggggghhhh!!!"
Luckily, since my middle name is Brennan and I share a first name with my dad, I played off this mystery package as something he had shipped to our house for whatever reason. And, as the Man upstairs would have it, A was super busy with work that evening so - darn the luck! - I had to go to UPS and fetch it all by my lonesome. And while we don't condone lying and trickery in our relationship, this one, in the end, was given a pass.
So I waited in line at UPS for an hour to get the ring. Yep, an hour. A was like, "You waited in line for over an hour for your dad's thing? That's crazy." Crazy's right. Crazy as a fox!
The next day my dad was supposed to come by to get "his" package. A thought he did. Ha. Nope. He was in cahoots with me the whole time. Even better? The ring was sitting in it's box in my desk drawer. For like...weeks! And A sits at my desk proofreading these blog posts and my other writing all the time. The thing was right under her nose - literally! - and she was never any the wiser. Talk about hidden in plain sight.
Speaking of which...this leads me to the "when" part of the story. For making it a possibility, I have to give credit to three birthdays: Lil' B, G, and Jesus.
Jingle all the way because Christmas time is here. As such, we have decorated accordingly. Perhaps we did so a tad earlier...but who cares, right? And since that tree has gone up and the presents have gone out, the kiddos have been asking to open "just one" every time I see them. Of course, this time of year, the default answer is, "You can open one on Christmas Eve."
And that was totally my plan, for them to open my "special gifts" on Christmas Eve...but God aligned for something better to happen. But let's back up to the set up before the actual proposal...
A black napkin. Thin paper dyed black, then folded over into square layers. Used once it's entire life to maybe hold a cupcake or act as a coaster for your mixed beverage. Nothing glamorous...to you. But to A and I, it is the beginning of it all.
The very first thing I ever gave her was a black napkin. I was a prop guy for a TV show and she was the featured waitress. I think I gave her some hors d'eouvres on a tray as well, but the napkin was the thing. And that thing has been the thing since...
So I had to incorporate it in the proposal. There are seven words in using her three legal names plus "will you marry me?" We had seven kiddos. Paint each of those words separately on seven separate black napkins and you have something. Wrap each napkin in white tissue paper and put it inside a box, then you're on the right track. Wrap each box with white wrapping paper and top it off with a white bow, you're almost done. Then add each kiddos name randomly, one per gift, with scrolly font printed on white labels and place them discretely under the Christmas tree and you're home free.
Those were to be the presents opened up by the kiddos on Christmas Eve. (Yes, I would've allowed them to open a second gift after the fact. I'm not a monster...)
But, as I said, God intervened. The day before I popped the question, A got to asking me about marriage. And if I knew I was ready and all the things that go into that realm of thought and line of questioning. We were sitting in my office. Her in her chair. Me at my desk. The ring literally a foot away from me. Tucked in the drawer. She was feeling anxious about why I hadn't asked yet...I was feeling, well, good. I had the ring. The 24th was fast approaching. My plan was moving along nicely. Until...
The conversation was over and A was finishing up getting ready so we could go celebrate a friend's birthday. She came into the living room and immediately began to apologize for asking me about an impending proposal. A, if you didn't know, talks with God on a regular basis. And not like "I'm a loon and think I'm talking to God but I'm really talking to a ficus tree." I mean God. She's that in tune to His personal radio station if you feel what I'm sayin.'
She said she was embarrassed. She said God was being sarcastic in His answer to her question that she asked Him while getting ready. She had asked Him if I was ready to marry her and if she was wrong for thinking that He has previously told her that I was. He gave her one name as his answer: Beverly.
It took some prying, but she told me what he said. Beverly. I didn't know a Beverly. She didn't either. She said I better not run off an marry someone named Beverly, I joked that all I know is that "I like the Beverly Hillbillies." However...
As I got to the door, it hit me...
...but, hang on.
Back up. Earlier I had been wrestling with the idea in my mind whether all these Christian things - the charity, my 180-degree life spin, church, reading the Bible - that I'm doing were done because I know it's the right thing to do and it's for show, or that I feel in my heart that it's the right thing to do and it's for real. I was struggling with not being able to see the changes in me because I'm too close to, well, me. Hard to see the forest for the trees type thing. I asked God for a sign...
And he gave A the name "Beverly." When I was opening the front door to leave, it dawned on me...Beverly Diamonds. That's where I bought the ring. Whoa. I had to laugh at God's sense of humor. There was my sign.
And right there I knew my "when." Now to set things in motion on the fly...
On the way to meet our friend, I was telling A how the little ones - namely E - don't quite yet understand why they don't get presents for other people's birthdays. And in the interest of not hurting E's feelings, I felt all the kiddos should get to open one gift the night before the party so to make the whole house happy and warm and fuzzy. She was a little on the fence about it, so I told her to pray about it.
The next day, God told her it was cool. I knew he would! So as A was going to pick up the kiddos for their weekend with us, I called my mom and told her I was gonna propose. She got excited, I suddenly got nervous. It's not that I thought A was gonna say "no," I just didn't want to make the proposal anything less than perfect. I must've counted and checked up on those 7 white gifts under that tree three times a day for weeks. The very same gifts that A said she never noticed the whole time they were there. Remember when I said, "hidden in plain sight." There ya go.
So when A and the kiddos got back, I was ready. Pretty much. Yea...I was good. I guess. Nervous, but ready. Of course I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but, you know...jitters. I had to of been acting weird because later, M said she noticed something was up because I was smiling a lot and acting too happy. Yikes...
I gathered all the kids in the living room and had them sit around the couch. I told them we were gonna let them open one present superearly and I passed out the white gifts. They were obviously lightweight - being filled with tissue paper and a napkin - and the kids were shouting stuff like "it's empty" as they tried to foretell the inner contents.
And once they all had their boxes, I told them to "go!" And they went. "Will" was the first word A said she saw. When M opened hers up and saw "marry" she remarked that she got "the best one!"
It didn't take long for A to see what was going on with the black napkins. She said she couldn't breathe as the mystery sentence was pieced together. The boys were smiling. The girls were "ahhing." And I took a knee. She walked over. I pulled out the black box and opened it...revealing her ring...
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes!"
Success!!! We hugged and kissed. In all the commotion and the kiddos "oohing" and "ahhing" I had to stop and ask, "Wait...you said 'yes' right?"
It was so surreal. And like a whirlwind. That whipped us up and took us to Cici's Pizza where we took the kiddos because I felt bad they really didn't get a present. And it's their fave restaurant. And A likes it a whole bunch, too.
While we were there, M dared me to stand up and tell the whole place that her mom and I just got engaged. So I did.
Friday, December 3, 2010
The Action Bible
I just finished reading this amazing comic book-themed phenomenon called The Action Bible. I've never read the Bible. In all my 32 years. Yea, sure, I've read bits and pieces here and there. Never a complete chapter at one time. Not in one sitting. I've been read Scriptures and taught them...but never like this.
I mean, I don't like reading - it causes me to analyze and critique. I had to do it all through middle school to high school to college. Okay, sure, I ended up getting my Bachelor's degree in Literary Studies...a study of literature. Reading and analyzing. But, hey, that was a two-fold plan: Part 1) I only had to take one math class; and, Part 2) It was the closest thing UTD had to a journalism degree. So, yea...
Um, however, that part where I just said, "I don't like reading" can be erased from board. The Action Bible has reopened the door to the room where the passion to read has been hanging out, bored out of it's mind because I left it there since graduating in 2002 with nothing to do but twiddle it's make believe thumbs.
This book has made me want to learn more...about Jesus and the Bible and about the people who have encountered it's power and glory. I'm still not so much interested in "botany" or "the fish of the Atlantic Ocean." Those books can be checked out by the next guy. I'm into Christian books now as well as all the other Divine things He presents us with. (And Star Wars comics. Those are pretty sweet still, too.)
All thanks to The Action Bible. Buy it. For real. It's a great springboard for people like me, and a wonderful refresher for those who need to be refreshed.
I mean, I don't like reading - it causes me to analyze and critique. I had to do it all through middle school to high school to college. Okay, sure, I ended up getting my Bachelor's degree in Literary Studies...a study of literature. Reading and analyzing. But, hey, that was a two-fold plan: Part 1) I only had to take one math class; and, Part 2) It was the closest thing UTD had to a journalism degree. So, yea...
Um, however, that part where I just said, "I don't like reading" can be erased from board. The Action Bible has reopened the door to the room where the passion to read has been hanging out, bored out of it's mind because I left it there since graduating in 2002 with nothing to do but twiddle it's make believe thumbs.
This book has made me want to learn more...about Jesus and the Bible and about the people who have encountered it's power and glory. I'm still not so much interested in "botany" or "the fish of the Atlantic Ocean." Those books can be checked out by the next guy. I'm into Christian books now as well as all the other Divine things He presents us with. (And Star Wars comics. Those are pretty sweet still, too.)
All thanks to The Action Bible. Buy it. For real. It's a great springboard for people like me, and a wonderful refresher for those who need to be refreshed.
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