Snow day

It snowed.... people lost their damn minds... milk and bread...2 hours in traffic etc.

Okay so now that all the require snow day blogging is done...
1. snowball fights are tons of fun.
2. day after ice fights end with Wilson having a busted bloody lip that doesn't slow him down.
3. people have lost their damn minds
4. Leftover night is the best night to eat dinner at our house other than breakfast for dinner night.

I was tired. 

5. If you are laying in the bed trying to go to sleep at 7:30 your kids will ask to tell you goodnight when being tucked in by saying.... "can dad come say good night or is he already passed out" What the what? I am not Otis the town drunk. I just was tired and it gets dark early.
6. After putting them down and getting back in bed, a supermodel will almost surely decide that the dog needs to come in because it is cold.

Let me stop. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of meeting our "dog," she is a hound. I had a dog. A great dog. Codependent in all the best ways. Annoying and needy and troublesome. Too big and dopey for her own good. A bit rough and tumble. She bit small boys and herded them into their beds or onto the couch where she thought they should be. We lost her last year just before Stay-Puft showed up. Stay-Puft is my rebound girl but it seems to be working out.

As previous dog, Kate-Monster, was in the process of quitting her day job, it was decided that a replacement should be sourced. Kate-Monster's enabler, the vet who said she was fat and happy and to leave her alone, was a member of the humane societies board and said they had another hound. I wanted a bloodhound or black and tan. Noble breeds. Dopey and too big.

At this point I made the largest mistake of my recent life. I took Mr. Fabulous and Wilson with me to go and look at this potential new member of my clan. Duchess was her name. We couldn't find her. The volunteer had to take the dog house off of her. That's right. Not get her out but rather lift the house off of her. She was very pregnant. Very dirty. Very emaciated. Deathly. We had to have her. Long story short, she was fixed, puppies were adopted out (to a trash can but don't tell the boys), and came home with us. She didn't eat. We put bacon grease on the food. She didn't eat. We offered her the bacon. She didn't eat.

We now have a healthy, gorgeous, gentle hound dog. She is independent to the point she doesn't need us or want us. Her tail never wags and she doesn't like being inside. The only things she loves in this life are 1. rides in the busted truck. 2. Mr. Fabulous 3. Pooping in our driveway exclusively 4.Smelling like death

This is Smokey. The Univeristy of  Tenn. mascot.
June-Bugg's cousin. Equally enthused

Noble Beast. If you can't smell her.

June-Bugg (as she was renamed) is a long eared blue tick coon hound. She has a certain musk that can't be undone. You bath her and within a day she is back to 100% stink power. She is stinky and anti-social and my wife decided to bring her inside as I was trying to relax. This meant I had to bathe her and dry her and then put her in Mr. Fabulous' bed. By the time she got to the boys room, the boys were in the same bed. Not sure why. They just love each other I guess. She now won't leave his bed and had to be forced out of the house before we left.

I love that stinking dog and she may have appreciated it. Who knows, but dinner was delicious.

Quotes with Mr. Fabulous

best quote ever after the Russian supermodel had to photograph her short order breakfast for dinner to send to her Ginger-Lauren.

"girls and their tweeting"

Thank you Mr. Fabulous for pointing out the ill of our society with staying too connected to our phones and technology. When the supermodel has to check FaceTube before she can say goodmorning, you know you have problems. I have remedied this by waking her up with classic pop and hip hop. Can't ignore Missy "Miss'demeanor" Elliot.

Also, he came in to snuggle with the bride and sat up and passed gas.

"I'm going to stink it up in here."

Excuses

How is my exercise regiment going you ask. Poorly.

But I like pigs....

The Bike race in December I was so keen on doing was rained out. And the Festive 500 was interrupted by a slight case of dysentery with a side of double cholera. Victorian diseases are out to get me, I would swear it. Earlier in the year I had consumption and became a lung'r. The supermodel almost sent me to live in TB Ward in an arid climate where I could go around doing my best Val Kilmer, "I'll be your huckleberry."

Why, no, as a matter of fact I haven't run due to my condition

I am now reaching my winter weight and am in bed by 8 every night. I have no idea when I am supposed to exercise except after the kids are in bed. That is just not worth it in my mind... yet.

Top Ten Favorite Excuses Not to Exercise...
1. Blame Kids. Being a parent is soooo hard blah blah blah. (Totally not true. Which makes it a great excuse)

obviously staged. 

2. Victorian Disease. Well documented fact that my GI tract hates me. Also no one questions you when the noises coming from the bathroom are a mix of the furnace in the basement from home alone and Chewbacca screaming.

Scary Furnace/ Graphic Representation of my Hateful GI

3. Laziness. Honesty is never comfortable but no one who knows me questions this either

those lines get seriously long

4.-10. working on. Feel free to make suggestions.

Back to Things as usual

Totally a Fan. All she cares
about is passer ratings and
YAC stats.

School is back in for the boys. Stay puft is back at daycare. The Russian is culturing mono and infecting poor souls with it so as to make them immortal. I sit in my office baffled at how to write a new course for the spring and try to wrap up a research article. Oh and The University of Alabama won another national championship.

The Russian Defends this Warmack's
style as it is so close to Stay-puft's

The Russian hated football. Nary a single hotty toddy while we lived in a college town. Games were opportunities to dress well and drink outside. So maybe she was a fan in the sense that any true southern girl is a fan. Things have changed. She was introduced to Alabama football and now yells at the tv, calls players by their first name, and scolds them when they don't live up to her standards. She is modeling her life on Nick Saban's press conferences. Bless her soul. I don't even care this much and I call myself a fan.

Our past weekend was quiet and normal but we injected a healthy dose of football. We got tickets to BBVA Compass Bowl at Legion Field in Birmingham for Saturday. The night before 2Pop and I did a pre-party at a wedding reception venue/expensive car storage facility. I like cars they were neat. The open bar was nice and I met business people who wanted my card. (They didn't mean my student ID. Who knew?). Ole Miss was playing and she and I went with Biggie and 2Pop. The game the next day was fun and the Ole Miss fans left before the game was over so, we knew they were real Ole Miss fans.

Also, Feed Moncrief! Best student video, bought up by athletics department and used to market. Waited for song to play at the game.

Same basic dog. But bigger
and much sweeter. 

So, Legion Field. It is a dump. The neighborhood is poverty wrapped in ramshackle houses with enormous dogs on bigger chains attached to them. The area is famous for people with white towels waving you into their yards for parking. Everyone in the neighborhood was super nice and we had no problems. People are people no matter their station in life. Wilson pointed out one day after hanging out with me and 2Pop that we talk to everyone the same. I think we had been at Lowe's or some such. He asked why we talked to the guy working there the same way we talk to our bosses or the guy picking up our trash. He was trying to ask why we are so damn talkative and (2Pop especially) will chat up a brick wall with all the civility in the world and work to find common ground with the person. Something in common. I told him because people are people and what they do for a living or what they look like doesn't matter(and because 2Pop and I like to talk too damn much). I will never forget that conversation with him and I hope he doesn't.

Sunday was laid back and included Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark. Not a bad day. Now last night was a different story. Wilson and Mr. Fabulous begged to stay up for the game last year so this year we acquiesced. We went to Biggie's house. Food was laid out. Boys at wings and pizza and cookie cake and had soda! Big night. Wilson didn't watch a single snap and put himself to bed before halftime. Mr. Fabulous put up a good resistance. Made it till after brother went to bed then came and watched about a quarter before he too was put to bed. "I'm not sleepy at all" were the words that came out right before his body gave up on him. The Russian yelled at the TV and updated Facebook accordingly then, I had the joy of carrying the kids to the car and taking them home. I think Wilson slept in jeans and a fleece and his shoes. I wanted to.
A bit of internet mockery....

Good one. 

Hilarious

Reminds me of a great joke. How do you catch a unique cat?
U -nique up on it. How do you catch a tame cat? Tame way...
U -nique up on it. 

A good weekend and another coming up.

Moral Grey Area

So the boys have an arsenal of nerf guns and adore having big drawn out battles. I contest this is best done in a gym so as to not lose bullets etc. We did this once before in the 4 racquetball courts at work and it was AWESOME! Well its Christmas Break there and everything is locked up and the only thing I have keys to is my building.

Yesterday, the Supermodel and I discussed that this might be in bad taste in light of recent school shootings etc. Always one to do the right thing, I said screw it and we went and ran up and down my hall and in and out of lecture rooms laughing and playing while StayPuft cruised the hall. The boys had no idea why is was a grey area. They just know that they had an "EPIC" nerf gun battle, to use their term. Nothing makes me happier than watching the supermodel chase down wilson, cornering him, and pelting him with nerf darts over and over and over again. The family that nerfs together and all that.

Wet, Without Clothes, Wilson, Trapped

New Years comes and goes for me with no fanfare. The Supermodel and I both lament this fact. But lets be honest. It is a grown up kid free holiday celebration. Someday I want to take the bride to a big party and do it right. Not this year. We went to bed. Our new year has been fun so far though. A friend of ours said that what you do on New Years Day reflects the year you are going to have. Our older son, Wilson started it with a bang. The boys went out and had a pinecone and mud battle in the rain all day on the first and came back to get baths. Wilson elected for a shower in our bathroom. I didn't hear from him for a while so, I went to check on him. Turns out, he couldn't get the shower door open. He was stuck. His brother had done this a week or two ago. No big deal, I will get you out. I go to open the bathroom door and he has locked it.

He is stuck in the shower. I am locked out of the bathroom and there is no way for us to get to one another. I try to talk him through the exit procedures to no avail. Now, senor fabulous has come to my room to join in "helping." His help is anything but. Stay Puft is in the next room napping for the first time of the day and it took an act of God to get her down. Anyone who wakes her up is going to be  sent to the orphanage. Standing rule.

Realizing what has to be done, I go get a hammer and a screwdriver. I had to take the door off the hinges and pull it out of the door jam. Wilson is intermittently turning on and off the hot water in the shower during the entire process so as to stave off hypothermia. Door off hinges and sitting against a dresser in my room, I go to open the shower door but ask him to try again and give him the exact same step by step and he opens it right up. He sheepishly looked at me and asked for a towel.

He is in for a good year.

Obligatory Christmas Wrap Up

Well here goes nothing.

Yummy bottletree

Longest Christmas ever. Like Sandlot "Forever."So general recap. The boys were to be with their father/grandparents over the break and after a bit of high drama this was made to happen. I drove to Oxford, MS to drop them with GrandMommy and then to pick up Felicia's super secret and thoughtful Christmas present. (Just ask me, I am awesome.) After dropping off the boys I went and met Jedi, the IT man for a pastry and coffee at BottleTree Bakery on the square. It was delightful. I miss him more than a person should miss another person. We ran into Holli the candy lady and her new baby who is approximately the same age as Stay Puft. Both were adorable and I realized how much I miss our friends. So pastry in my belly, we started the walk back to his place when we were stopped by the artisan who had made the Russian Super Model's present. Like whipped her car over on the side of the road and jumped out and hugged our necks! Soon there after her husband pulled up in his 1951ish Chevy Truck, swoon. The four of us held court on the sidewalk long enough that two different car loads of people stopped to ask directions and the first car had come back to say thank you. Lazy Saturdays in Oxford are missed. Those of you still living there, appreciate them.

So between that Saturday and the 26th, which is when we picked up the boys, the supermodel and I just tried to keep it together. We hung out with 2Pop and Biggie who were just wonderful to us and tried to keep us busy knowing how hard it would be for Christmas to come and go with no boys. Christmas eve we tried to go to church and ended up late and at the children's pagent service and had to sit in the choir loft, again. Two years in a row makes it a tradition right? Afterwards the plan was Chinese food but our beloved Chop Suey Inn was closed. Heartbroken and not really feeling like it was Christmas we went home and ate leftovers. The next day we went and watched Thunder and Lightning, my twin nieces open christmas presents and we ate decadent food stuffs. If I remember correctly it was french toast with blueberries and pecans and creme cheese and syrup and well it was delicious. Don't judge. 2Pop fixed the supermodels favorite diet friendly meal. A large hunk of meat with no vegetables other than a potato to be seen for miles, red wine, and bread pudding for dessert. That was Christmas night. I cannot tell you how grateful I am that my parents have welcomed the supermodel in and take care of us.

Best present ever!

The 26th we got the boys and pretended it was Christmas Eve. Wake up on the 27th and wait for 2Pop and Biggie to get to the house and open presents. The boys got too much. Why is it that every year our family says, "its going to be a small Christmas this year" and then every year it seems to be bigger? Is this just our family? I got everything I have ever needed. My wife got me an electronic do dad that makes it possible to have the television hooked up in the basement and music in the upstairs part of the house. Very utilitarian and sweet. Music makes our house happier. Dance parties will now resume in the morning. The boys got me a coffee mug to take to work. There is a Keruig? Kuring? Keuringerisimo? whatever. A single serve coffee machine thing at school. They keep hot chocolate cups up there and I am still 8 years old so, before every lecture I go and make a cup of hot chocolate to help me through lectures and to help pace. I had been drinking out of borrowed cups for the last year and a half. Now I don't mind being the worlds best granddad but I have no idea what science experiments were done in that cup. No Longer! I am now... "BIG DADDY" Its no Big Cat but it will do. I love it. We then ate sausage balls and from scratch cinnamon rolls. The supermodel is quite the baker. When she has her psychoanalysis sessions the theme is always, "I just feel more like myself when I am baking." Well that and wearing copious amounts of fur and speaking russian.

a small christmas?

Later the whole dang bunch of us rolled up on Biggie's crib. Big Daddy, Supermodel, Wilson, Senor Fabulous, Stay Puft is my clan. My Sister, her husband, Thunder and Lightning. 2Pop and Biggie. Then my mother's mother, The Queen of Subtle and my mother's little sister, The middle school vice principle (alternative job title, glutton for punishment), Lynne. That makes something like 4 billion of us in the house. Opening the presents took 4 hours I think. Children make Christmas better. There I said it. I could have gotten nothing and been happy. I thought my parents had just been hard to buy for but you really don't need anything but a cup of cider and to watch the kids open. Stay Puft really only wanted to eat everything. Everything. Bless her she is one of us.

A day or two later, more family came through. My father at one point said that Christmas was too long this year and he wanted to get back to normal. He didn't mean it and took it back immediately but I know what he meant. I am looking forward to getting back to work tomorrow myself. Same wrap up everyone writes on blogs, I know. Sorry. Next post will be better