houpley

Earlier today I heard an expert talking about today's youth being illiterate and unlearned. This he said was in spite of all the information they had at their fingertips. This is a ridiculous thesis. When the printing press first came out, the elder generation wailed at the fact that oratory history was lost. They felt that the next generation was ignorant, stupid, and the caretakers of the future were squandering away all that their predecessors had laid out for them. They tried to understand past, present, and future in a linear fashion, like going from point A to point B in a straight line. Their children were dumber because they could not recite Homer's Odyssey from memory. When will we learn? The previously mentioned expert challenged his class to research obituaries on a few different literary giants. He then challenged them to do this without the use of the internet and marveled at their discomfort. That was his proof, these kids cannot research without Google. Really? I...

Ending the day watching your toddler delicately place the letter Q over the number 6 while using the letter T to softly hammer the pair onto the drain's lever is a pretty good clue the boy is ready for some tools. Number 7 also displayed excellent "hamamering" abilities.

Mama: You are such a little monkey. Jackson: No, mama. No monkey. Mama: You're not a monkey? I thought you liked being a monkey. Jackson: No. Mama: Then what are you? Jackson: Eight.

Best Father's Day Ever!!! Started the day with my lowest score ever in golf (any golfer knows this is rare), short side job that went perfectly (any electrician knows this is very rare), had a good steak and watched Fanboys which turned out to be pretty funny (again a rare find when it comes to spoofs [Wayan's brothers kiss my ass]). The correct punctuation is a shout out to my hot wife trained in the ways of AP style. On a serious note Amanda's Father's Day card pretty much brought me to tears. I hope this blog gives the reader a glimpse into how wonderful she is. If I am a good father it is only because I have such a great partner to lean on. Jack is on his third antibiotic in six weeks, he inherited my Eustachian tubes, and you can hardly notice. Amanda's consistent love and guidance matched with his inherent good nature makes my job easy. These are the good times and all too soon I will miss them. Jack will one day be a good man and I am already proud of him. It...

11:30 a.m. Lunch time small talk: A siren whines in the background. Jackson: Siren, mama. Siren. Mama: Oh, do you hear a siren? Jackson: Yup. Mama: Whose siren is that? An ambulance? Jackson: No, mama. Jack's siren. Mama: Oh. That's your siren? Jackson: Yup. 7:30 p.m. After bath conversations: Eric: Look out mama! Here comes naked baby! Mama: Oh no! Naked baby! Jackson runs down the hallway, squealing with naked-baby joy. He hops up on to the couch to sit by me. Mama: Hello, there! Are you a naked baby? Jackson: No, mama. I'm Jack.

Just as I was dozing off last night, Eric climbed into bed with a bag of Hot Nuts to snack on. Let's be clear. A bag of peanuts. Unshelled. In the bed. There was much cracking, shelling, chewing, etc. But the real kicker was when my totally naked husband called over to my side of the bed to announce: "Hey babe. Check it out. There's a hot peanut in my belly button!" And, indeed.... ...there was. Welcome to my marriage.

For the past two nights it appears Jackson has returned to getting his full 11 hours of sleep. We are elated he has gone back to his schedule. I'm still not sure if all of this is due to the time changes on our trip but if it is we are never leaving the Central Standard Time Zone again. Of course it could be from all that mocha.....

It was rough. Not only did Jackson wake up a brazillion times last night but once while I was rocking and calming in the nursery I hear a plethora of sounds coming from our bedroom. First, as always, is the soft rumble of Eric's snores. This sound makes me boil because it is evidence of his remarkable skill. He can fall asleep anywhere at anytime and can do it within seconds. After I tend to a crying baby and return to the bed, I lie awake fretting over how many hours are left in the night to sleep and will he wake up again? and did he feel warm? All tasks that only keep one awake longer. But Eric? He returns from soothing a toddler only to drift into dreamland before his head even hits the pillow. So while I was softly singing to Jackson and enduring Eric's boastful snores that might as well shout "I AM ASLEEP AND YOU ARE NOT!" I hear Elvis join the evening's songs. By throwing up three times. Anyone who has ever had a dog knows that ... distinct ... unattractive...

Dark skies promising buckets of rain, Jackson still in his pjs passing out hugs and the smell of brown sugar and baked pears fill the kitchen - a perfect Sunday morning.

You know you are the parent of a nearly-two-year-old when... ...you pull two macaronis and one gold fish out of a shirt pocket.

The very first night we returned from our trip, Jackson achieved another milestone. Moments after I had gently placed him in his crib, we heard a sickening thud. One glance toward the nursery and there he was walking out of his room, into the hall and complaining about a bump on his head. Shock. Slight chuckling. Dismay. These were the emotions swirling our faces as Eric and I continued to stare at each other with disbelief. We knew it was bound to happen. Of course it would. But...but...I guess we just weren't ready. Denial was the second stage. Taking immediate action we removed the bumper pad thinking the few inches it provided was giving him the height to fling a leg over. Retry. Silence. Thud. Toddler exiting his room. My mind was shuffling through pages of baby books trying to dig up a solution. Should I break out the conversion piece of the crib? Dig it out of the attic right now? Does he sleep with us tonight? After all of our jetlag from the day, it was not a pleasent mom...

Jackson met the Pacific Ocean for the first time. The moment his bare feet hit the sand, he fell hard. In love. Oregon was wonderful. Even the icy waves couldn't keep Jackson away. He did so well during the trip. Smoothly managing planes, layovers, delays, time changes, etc. However, warm mochas, scoops of mango ice cream, sweet kitties, taffy and more entertainment than he could possible imagine didn't hurt either. See his adventures here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/73102019@N00/

I know I still have a few months until Jack's second birthday but I have been toying with a theme for a while: Where the Wild Things Are Eric loved this book. I loved this book, and now Jack loves it. Only he calls it "Max Book." Anyway, I have a few decorations for the theme, then found out about the movie. Check it out. It looks fantastic: http://wherethewildthingsare.warnerbros.com/ And then I stumbled across this entry on one of my favorite blogs. So cool: http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/2009/05/sunday-sweets-reading-rocks.html Had to share with you. I also saw this link where one mom went a little nutso. But that costume is just adorable: http://creativepartiesandshowers.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-wild-things-are-birthday-party.html So I'm thinking more along these lines: http://partyperfectblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/back-by-popular-demand-wild-things.html I really love her idea of basing birthday parties on favorite children's books in the future especially be...

"yesterday's moon" by free to go ( http://www.flickr.com/photos/50981739@N00/3589463476/?addedcomment=1#comment72157619060208713 ) Upon arriving home after school, I scooped Jackson up and out of the car. He suddenly gasped. Pointing toward the sky, he declared: "Moon! Mama! Moon!" I agreed. "Yes, it is the moon." He stared back at the half moon barely visible in the blue sky. "Hug?" he asked of the moon, his arms spread wide to embrace the Earth's satellite. The boy knows no bounds. "One day, when you are an astronaut, you can land on the moon and give it a big hug," I responded. He giggled. I giggled. It was funny because everyone knows there's no way mama's ever going to let you be an astronaut. Silly boy!