Holidays Over. Time to get back to whatever our normal is. Strange that there is so much build up and then my family drags it out for a week or two, which I really do enjoy. Then it is over and I am very much excited about being done with it. I take down decorations like pulling a band-aid. If our living room looked like St. Nick vomited all over it previously then, it looks empty and sad now. The two extremes I suppose.
Its almost time!
Also, who knew that this next baby, AKA The Hound, is almost here. Also, that gummy bear is a dude! Not news to most of you but What the What!? We are totally not ready and won't be and will never be as no one ever is but What the What?!
So, back at work. Boys will be back to school in a week and Stay-Puft will go to her new big girl classroom on the 2nd. Not the "Go Go Big Girl What Chu Gon Do" kind of big girl just older and sassier. I will spend the next few months preparing a crate for The Hound and trying to stay ahead of the progeny but lord knows I will be ready for the holidays next year.
This is the second year in a row that the boys have not been here on Christmas morning due to a scheduling change (so that they could be with us on my families every-other year thanksgiving schedule). It makes this morning terribly difficult. Christmas without them every other year is only going to get more difficult as the wee fat one and her prehistorically named unborn kin begin to understand the jolly fat one.
To make this more difficult for this year, there has been a last minute "scheduling issue." This means that even our fake christmas eve will be screwy because the boys won't be able see stay puft before she goes to bed. If there is anyone reading who had to deal with blended/hybrid family holidays I would love to hear ideas.
Absence of the Blog:
Their father is the reason I stopped writing this blog. He found it, read it and sent me an email berating me and saying purposefully hurtful things about my role in the boy's lives. I got really upset and quit writing for a while but in a classic BigCat turn of phrase.... You know what? I will write whatever I damn please and he can....enjoy it. But I digress...
It was brought to my attention that it will be super fun to show this blog to the boys when they are older so that they can see what I was thinking through the years. That is a very good point ginger lauren. So, I have decided to write for me and for the boys. A few years ago, I asked my father to begin keeping a journal so that after his passing I could go through and see what goes through his head. This I suppose is my version of that.
So, Merry Christmas to all of you and I hope that I can make up some unreasonable resolution about blogging three days a week on a schedule but we will see.
It has long been suggested that Stay Puft's school's name is Hand in Paw. It has now been changed to hand in hoof. Everyone's favorite marshmallow baby came home a week ago with Hand Foot and Mouth Disease which was immediately confused with foot and mouth which is a fatal virus which effects cloven animals. It was no big deal with her as nothing is. She was pretty laid back about the whole thing. Some spots on her hands and feet. A couple of cold sores on her tongue. She didn't want OJ but other than that she was solid. Then, the other shoe dropped....
I got it.
I was too busy to keep my reservation at the sanatorium
Apparently this works like chicken pox. You get it once and are good. Also like chicken pox, it is much much worse in adults. I can vouch for this. Last Thursday, back ache and sore and generally felt as thought I had been hit by a truck then it backed up just to make sure I was flat enough. By the time class was over at ten I had a low grade fever of about 102 and change. I spend the day in bed. Was forced to visit a doctor that evening to rule out flu. I wasn't. He suggested it was flu-like. I had back to back meetings Friday and a preview day for high school kids Saturday then attended the Ole Miss - Alabama Game that night. After those two days I had crashed again. My voice was gone due to the razor blades and broken glass I had been eating for the previous two days. I don't recommend that diet but it was effective. I had no appetite. Apparently cold sores in the mouth and throat are a part of my hoof disease.
All better now other than throat herpes or whatever is attacking my throat. It looks like the supermodel is waking up in the middle of the night to take care of the baby and then sneaking back into our room and punching me in the throat. I say it looks like that because surely that isn't what is going on. Is it? Pregnant women are prone to blame their perfect husband's for being a vector for their parasites. Just like their parasites can be born and be a vector for cow diseases for perfect husbands . Guess its fair but I won't hit Stay Puft in the throat in the middle of the night. That makes me better than the supermodel.
Let me start by saying that I have no idea what prompted this dream. No strange bed time food. No bizarre evening. I know that my stream of consciousness when I am awake is exciting but who knew that it could be just as fun asleep.
I used to have reoccuring dreams about the giant monsters from The Muppet Show. From childhood well into adulthood. Last night was much more fun.
I have no idea what happened in most of the dream but prior to waking up it was myself with a large band on a quite large stage. Picture Sydney Opera House. The band was made entirely of people of Indian descent. The bass player was killing it but also had a blond wig over his hair. More like perched on his head. You could still see his black hair. The wig was similar to Andy Warhol's hair a la a bad Photoshop. I don't want to offend anyone so I won't attempt an artistic representation. (plus I tried and it wasn't very good)
What I want my mornings to be like
We were really doing it on stage and then it came time for my conga/bongo/djembe solo. There was about a 20 foot row of drums lined up single file. As I started to play them, quite well I might add, an orangutan came onto stage and followed me as I went down the line playing them. I would play the drum and move on and he would take over the drum I had been playing. The problem I have now that I am awake was that he was better than me. In the dream it was amazing. I think this may be some residual King Louis and Every Which Way But Loose jealousy.
Clyde totally has the better smile
Either way, we had this incredible Tito Puente timbale/conga groove and I was loving it. Then it was overshadowed by my alarm playing the hook from Outkast's song SpottieOttieDopaliscious which is my alarm clock. Which is labeled as ALARM! in my phone because it reminds me of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Top That! My subconscious is awesome and if you want to borrow it you can. Please see my dreams playlist below:
No, the supermodel is not having quadruplets. She would have shot me by now. I just can't believe that I will have four children. That is crazy talk. That is all
It is never a dull moment. Stay Puft has discovered play kitchens and is the Julia Child of her new school. Every time I go to pick her up she has a saute pan in one and and spatula in the other. Am I the only person who has family member who refer to that kitchen utensil as a "Spatular"? I digress. Wilson has attended his first middle school dance. He was relieved to learn that he didn't have to dance with a girl but let me know that the rumor was that he would have to at the next dance. I wait with baited breath.
Senor Toilet is wonderful and has arrived at a very sweet age, when he isn't tired, or being goaded on by his brother. School is back in session for me as well and things around here are as comfortable as gravy on a biscuit. They were. Things have taken a turn and I have to ask for your prayers.
I had to take the supermodel to the hospital today and missed half a day of work. She apparently is harboring a parasite. We aren't quite sure how she contracted it or where but the doctor seems to think that the supermodel will be okay so, that is good news. Bad news is that she has to carry it around and deal with the side effects for another 9 months.
A Doppelgänger for the parasite's current developmental state
We went and had it imaged and sure enough there is something living inside her and sapping her of her nutrients and will to live. I will include a rough estimate of what it looks like at this point.
The doctor assured us that at some point around the beginning of April that this Abdominal Remora will turn my wife's insides "a loose" and come on out.
We are anxiously awaiting that day and are excited to see what the thing looks like fully developed. At some point I hope to figure out this mode of transmission.
Survived the night. No major issues and everyone has been fabulously well behaved. Its hard when there is an 80 something Mr. Wilson living next door that doesn't want to hear kids voices before 8:30 when they wake up at 6. We did it though. They were fed, beds made, bags packed and lined up and ready to go and have disappeared into the neighborhood.
Things I learned.
Karma is real. At some point in my years working at a Boy Scout Camp there was a 4th or July celebration and a trailer full of watermelon was produced. I may have instigated a food fight that sent several kids to the camp medic for minor injuries. Yesterday I look out the window and there are boys scattered at equal distances from one another all over the yard, street, neighbors yards. At the same time there are chunks of watermelon raining down with great vengeance on each of them. The baseball players were at great advantage and were whittling down there chunks to baseball size. It all went well. I will need to wash down the truck and driveway today as the truck as moved a few feet as the ants are trying to assess it and get into into their nest so they will be able to feed generations to come.
Middle School Boys are not Elementary aged boys. They stink worse and have no clue when they are in a room with a baby monitor. You want a good laugh/cry/never sleep again then listen to the conversations these kids have when they think you aren't listening.
Start putting them to bed at 4 next time. They took a while to wind down but I was asleep before 10:30.
The plan now is to give them ice cream and caffeine free cokes until their parents show up. Also, possibly hose them off. I know the parents would appreciate me knocking some of the stink off of them.
I write this to leave yet another last will and testament. Today is the much anticipated Brotherly Host Party (BHP 2K13). Boys are paying for and throwing themselves a party to host. They have invited 6-8 of their closest friends. I am not sure on the exact number as I don't think they are all here and if they are, they won't stand still for a head count. There were hand written and hand delivered invitations. I don't know who got them. I am feeling that sense of peace you feel when you know you are about to have a car wreck and you just relax and let it happen. I don't know a lot of the plans for the afternoon, evening, or morning as I was not allowed to help plan. I don't know much if I am honest.
Let's recap what I do know:
I know El Fox is with Biggie and 2Pop until tomorrow
I know that the Supermodel has been banished to study for a test and won't be back until tomorrow
I know that Pizza and Ice Cream are here. Correction, just ice cream. 2Pop will bring Pizza if I include him as a sponser for the BHP 2K13
I know CPR
I know the fastest route to the nearest hospital
I am prepared.
Even so I only have a trumpet so that will have to do.
The Supermodel told me prior to us being encaged that she wanted a daughter. I delivered about 15 months ago. I should be praised for doing what I am told. Stay Puft El Fox is a girl. We have known this for some time now. I did what was required of me. The problem is now she is showing it. I thought the Supermodel would be thrilled.
Her face is much cuter. Her feet.... about the same
First, she developed an affinity for shoes. Her morning goes something like this. Wake, Look for Shoes, Demand that we place them on her feet (you may be picturing Cinderella, think more like Shrek), run to high chair and scream in sign language the words more and please one after another. I had no idea you could scream in American Sign Language but El Fox does it quite elegantly. Great I thought, she and her mother can shop for hours looking at shoes.
El Fox in a few years
Next, she started finding anything that had a hoop large enough to slide over her arm, and carrying it around a la Sophia from the Golden Girls. It is adorable. She is girly. This is all good news, the supermodel loves bags! More shopping, more passing things down.
Her favorite designer for eyeglasses
El Fox found keys and knows to take them to the door and to tell everyone good bye (and that she is going for a breve and shoe shopping). She has also taken toys that are phone shaped and held them to her ear and just chatted away with her new best friend (whom we still haven't met). Somewhere around the fourth she got oversized star shaped sunglasses and loves them almost as much as her cousin, the blind girl of Alabama loves hers (don't ask but needless to say she isn't blind).
All was going fine. The supermodel was still excited. However, I must pause to say that the Supermodel has been harping on trains from day one. Mr. Fabulous and Wilson loved trains and so, everyone should love trains. I believe this is mostly so the Supermodel can play with them. But I digress... the straw...
Dishes are next.
Straw that broke the camel: Domestic Labor. The Fox has taken to, after eating, taking one of her baby wipes and wiping down the tray. So helpful. She then gets down and goes and wipes down the walls, cabinets and anything else at her level. Great I thought, "show her the baseboards!"
The Supermodel freaked.
Took away her cleaning rag and told her that she could be anything she wanted to be and handed her hot wheels cars to play with.
Few things. I have been wildly busy with three lab minions working on three different projects. Just when I think I am head, I realize I only have the tiger by the tail and there are three tigers. Speaking of minions, they have taken it in stride and have designed T-shirts based on the idea. Not the point for writing this. Work is work until it is a death march designed to test the will of the Gods.
Two days ago, minion number two and I had to go out and do field work at a local state park. It had to be in mid-afternoon due to the plants blooming schedule. This plant also only lives on rocky outcrops in quite direct sunlight. Assume it was 112 in the shade etc etc. I decide that the boys, dopey and bashful, should come with us and afterwards we will go for a bit of a jaunt through the forest. (Mistake 1 of ?) On the way out the door, I notice that JuneBug the dog/yard art has meandered into an open car door and in her very mild way, insisted on joining us. Why not? The more the merrier (said the Donner Party)
I miss 'back in the day'
I will spare you the details to some extent. So highlights
Basically this only less excited
At the trail head a Chilean woman asked us to go down the trail about a mile and see if we saw her teenage daughter and friend as they had left this woman and a 1 year old baby to go take a picture and hadn't come back in over an hour. See picture.
At some point there was a yellow jacket attack.
There were 1/4 mile posts counting down from 28. This gave a nice pace to the whining and incessant scheduling and rescheduling of rest stops. I will admit though that when Wilson began timing our pace between posts around mile 4, the pace piked up.
JuneBug. Oh JuneBug. Apparently we have been underestimating her advanced age. She must have thought we were trying to kill her. Her mood varied between almost amused and rolling on the ground in what appeared to be the throes of death. She may have been faking for sympathy but this was at mile 2.
Pause here and take a moment to read the classic onion article entitled "Dolphins not so intellegent on land." A quote from that article that came to mind was "the dolphins appeared to be looking directly into our eyes, as if pleading with us to help them perform better in these tests." A dolphin might have been more adept at this task. Sorry JB.
By the end I was pulling her, begging her, cajoling her, pleading.... you get the idea. My shoulder is still sore from her deciding to stop at random intervals.
My favorite mental image of the day was Mr. Fabulous, aka Senor toilet, aka bashful, sort of fell apart at the end. Spirits were broken by mile 5 or 6 but around the six and a half mile mark his body began to let him down. First it was his mouth. He stopped talking. At this point I decided he should start every morning with a six mile stroll. This was not the best though. The last mile was all down hill on loose rocks, scree is the technical term and word of the day. Mr. Fabulous lost control of his ankles. He fell over and over and over. (If he were not durable I would have been concerned. He has had three black eyes this summer. Falling down is nothing.)
The vision you should have is of a model on the runway who has had her shoes chosen for with no regard for her ability to make a 50 walk in them. Take that and combine it with the limp jointed marionette doll.....
To quote the great Alice Cooper, School is out for summer. My summer class got canceled due to low enrollment. (If I can't tempt students with 15$ worth of textbooks and 90% field trips then the class just wasn't meant to make.) So, we get to the point of the school year where I am the only person in the office on my floor and fall into a bit of a funk. Don't get me wrong, I love the academic calendar. It gives a certain rhythm to things. Problem is that the rhythm is slow right now.
Not quite this bad. Not quite.
Boys end school on Thursday and I begin the summer of minivan. I will be chasing my own tail this summer trying to hustle up as much scratch as I can. My dear sweet volvo is dying. I haven't decided to shoot it yet but it has developed a limp. It has to go in the shop soon so I hopefully will be commuting by bike. My muffin tops have missed an excuse to visit with my bike. It may be time to shed my winter weight and get beach ready. Beach ready to me means that I have whiskey and good books to read but apparently winter weight is not welcome at the beach. Soooo time to look for a bike trailer to borrow to get Stay Puft to the school or require that the supermodel be responsible for her (so I am searching the craigslist for a bike trailer)
forget a bike trailer! I want a sidecar! what the what?!
Also, this is a great time to dream about house projects. Book cases are soon but they are boring to plan. I am planning a garage renovation. Don't do this. Avoid this. There is a future
pintrest board all about dreams. In about 18 years or so, it will become a reality. Mark my words!
In addition, Mother's are the best! I would be nowhere without the mother's in my life (even if they do share drink choices with John Wayne). So, thank you Biggie. Thank you grandmother. Thank you mothers in my life who have passed away. All of you have had a huge influence on who I am today. Grandmother Hataway taught me to cook without fear and that perfectly good people prefer to sleep in. My father's grandmother who I never met taught me, through proxy, that there is never a wrong time for biscuits. Grandmother Ceil taught me that hard work never hurt anyone and being subtle will get you nowhere. Her stepmother, Bessie, taught me about dumplings and helped to give me an appreciation for Thanksgiving. My mother's side of the family taught me reverence for Thanksgiving. Bessie's kitchen table is now my kitchen table and we eat off of her everyday dishes for special occasions at The Home®.
My mother... my mother is me and I am my mother. We have very similar strengths and very similar weaknesses and she has taught me how to deal with both. She is a picture of grace and neurosis. The woman can smell things that happened weeks ago. Her garden... it is freakish and beautiful and everything is twice the size it is in other gardens. She strives for perfection and expects you to do the same. She is the matriarch and the queen. I would do anything she asked and I made her a promise early on that when I grew up I would still come over for Sunday lunch. I am not there every time but I get there at least once a month. I am a momma's boy and that is okay with me.
Finally my wife. She deals with me and the boys. We are a mess and she keeps us put together. She is not my mother so I will wait and let her children blog about her someday but, she should know that she is a great mom.
To celebrate my mothers this past weekend we ate. The boys cooked the supermodel pancakes and made her coffee. That afternoon we went to 2Pop's house. We ate ribs. We ate potato salad. We ate baked beans. And we ate pound cake.
In summary, my female role models have all been amazing and you should be jealous.
The world's sexiest supermodel suggested that we start referring to our house and its occupants as The Home®. The home for what you might ask? Well depends on the day mostly. 2Pop and Biggie, my parentals, tried to relay the story of how they met to the Russian and I on Mother's Day. Both had graduated from college. My father a bit rowdy and my mother at an all girls college. They met working at a home for disturbed children. This is all the info I have ever gotten out of them. Apparently my father asked her out on a date and mother stayed in Montgomery for the weekend. I do not know where she would have been otherwise as details are slim. What was revealed is that they went out and went to the Holiday Inn Lounge. I am not judging as apparently this was the norm. What I am judging is that my mother told me that she "drank my father under the table." Soak that up. She sat down and ordered a Crown Royale (pronounced Roy-Al)on the rocks and he ordered a Tom Collins. Now many of my readers have never had or heard of a Tom Collins. It has been replaced by the much more popular Big Cat. I will try to graphically represent the difference between the two drinks.
Whiskey Neat John "The Duke" Wayne
Tom Collins Nathan "The Birdcage" Lane
If you have not seen The Birdcage recently, fix that. Also any John Wayne cowboy movie. This will help you understand how I view the disparity in their drink choices. I am not disparaging my father. I also am not saying that I am not proud of my mother. It worked out in the end and they are living happily ever after. The supermodel and I need to work on our story. Working with disturbed children leading to drinks at the Holiday Inn followed by mother having to drive him home. That is a story that we should all be jealous of. Back to The Home®, I like this title and so I will be continuing to use it. Problems at The Home® this week include both cars being in the shop and one getting fixed, Stay Puft's keepers deciding to close up shop leaving us without a Godzilla Care Facility for the fall, and everyone trying to finish school. Guess which one has me up nights worried about the residents of The Home®. We should not worry about what we cannot change but I do. Its genetic. It will all work out and we will be fine but I will tell you this, I need more John Wayne in my life these days.
So, long time no see. How have you been? Me you ask? It has been glorious around Casa de Big Cat. We had a friend from my work over with her husband and kids and then this past Saturday Ginger Lauren (so as not to be confused with Stuncapher Lauren who I also adore) came over for dinner and a game of cards. 2Pop my father came and took the boys to the new baseball stadium to watch a game and eat all of his retirement savings in the form of peanuts and crackerjacks apparently. I will get to this stadium before summer is over. Parties interested in joining me and the fam please speak up. Anyway Ginger Lauren... I will say this about the Ginger Lauren, she is as ruthless as she is adorable. We played phase ten and drank wine and she kicked my butt. I can admit it. I am not happy and thus will have to go buy more wine and cook dinner again and try the whole evening over. I am getting a redo. I demand a redo. This time I am inviting more people (Andringa I am looking at you) and will win. If not I will buy more wine and well you get the picture. I don't admit defeat!
Also, Wilson and Fabulous are doing testing this week. Standardized testing is the worst. I remember it being like 3 days and schools basically shut down. The boys have almost two weeks of testing. What the what. Poor kids will not be left behind.
Now why I started writing today:
Don't show these to college students. They have no idea what to do with them.
Mix tapes. I feel like it is a lost art. When was the last time you traded mix tapes with someone? Too long I tell you. When was the last time you used a tape? I have a tape deck in my car. My only tape is a green cassette of ill communication. My generation moved to CDs and the last of physical media for music. We are trying to revive vinyl but honestly digital is where we are. The problem with iTunes is there is no "share your mix tape" function.
Why did these ever go away? Because you stopped making them!
Hear ye! Hear ye! I am bringing it back! I will throw this offer out, you make a mix tape of your current favorite music and get it to me and I will get a copy of mine to you. How do we find new music these days? the internet!? Pshaah! Together I say! get me your mix tape. I have recently completed a doozy. It is Finals week here next week which signals summer. Time for music. Road Trip Music! Beach Music! Porch Sitting Music! Bring it back! (I fully expect you to disappoint me and not participate and that makes me sad. Do you want me to be sad? Do you want El Fox to be sad?)
you know you wanna!
Summary: Summer ya! Testing Boo. Ginger "card shark" Lauren is going down. Get me some new music and you will get some yourself!
You know whats better than a trip to the beach? A trip to the beach with 15 students!
So, last weekend me and 15 students whom I did not know along with two other professors went to Dauphin Island. Two 15 passenger vans worth of Biology headed down 65. Not many details other than I was in the Zoology Van and we had a pretty great time. Spent Friday afternoon in South Alabama looking at endangered salamanders and some various snakes and other critters.
Saturday morning was birding and herping at the Audobon Sanctuary on the Island
Saturday afternoon was spent out on the water in about a 45 foot boat trawling for fish etc. to identify.
Sunday more birding, a canceled trip to the pitcher plant bogs due to thunderstorms, and a drive home. I will now include photographic highlights and commentary.
Friday was herping for Red Hills and then once at the island catching my spiders.
Hi my name is Sally and I am endangered
This lovely snake pretends to be a cobra and when that doesn't work it plays dead and vomits.
So, then Saturday birding and herping:
Several pairs of these giant monsters. I don't trust raptors. My BFF now working at the gold mine cursed me at one point to have my eye plucked out by one
PS I hate birding. Well I did before this trip. You line up those last four birds in the same place at the same time and it tends to change your mind. Not that I plan on buying all khaki and spending my twilight years running all over the world checking birds off a list.
This was followed by my favorite time of day, meal time. Lighthouse bakery gets rave reviews from me. Dealt with all 9 of us and had delicious food and drink.
Delicious if not a bit delicate inside. But, I didn't knock anything over so that is a win.
Saturday after lunch, Boat trip!
Second issue with an overly amerous student happened here. We had to explain that no matter how bad you want to hug them, they don't want to hug you. First one? Me trying to convince same student that blue herons DO love hugs.
Saturday night? Seafood Dinner at Beaudeans. This is a must when on the island (even though you have to leave the island to get there. The decor is worth it. Later that night? More spiders and a gecko or two.
Don't go Changin' Beadeans
Invasive yet cute
Sunday was more birds and more food.
Required stop on 65 South for free samples and Ice Cream. Timed correctly this and the Peach Park in Clanton are the only required stops
So yeah, no beach during the day. Only rays soaked up were found while on the boat. It was a nice trip until....
I got a phone call that Stay-Puft is more mobile than when I left her. Well not more mobile rather, mobile with height. That's right I missed her walking. I picture the actual stay puft monster trundling down the street to go eat Bill Murray. Got home and she ignored me and refused to do her trick. I finally saw it this morning more or less. It was way over-hyped. I expected Summiting Everest would be this weekend. Maybe by the 1 year anniversary of her birth she could pull off a 5K but even then it will be slow and painful.... so we could do it together as we share that pace.
