tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11072433760693008662024-03-13T17:55:40.165-05:00Jack and the Baby TalkUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger217125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-3103416130669377782019-03-23T07:47:00.001-05:002019-03-23T07:47:05.851-05:00Dusting This Off<br />
<br />
I guess it's been awhile - a little less than two years since my last post and I figured it would be good time to share my thoughts before the oldest child gets a year older.<br />
<br />
Parenting is weird. Even after nearly 9 years of being a father, the very thought that I am an actual dad creeps me out. I have not one, but two people who actually look up to me and seek guidance and safety and wisdom from me.<br />
<br />
The same guy that once did a full blown WWF style wrestling match for a talent show. The same person who had the worst stomach ache in the world because he thought it would be a good idea to eat a family size box of microwaved salisbury steaks. Yet these two girls will cuddle up with me when a crazy storm runs through or if they ask why the sky is blue.<br />
<br />
I am responsible for their growth and well being. I have a lifelong commitment as a result of the best 4 minutes of my wife's night on some random weeknight. It's weird to think that one day you start becoming less immature and you're perusing the clearance aisle at Target for a nice pair of everyday khakis.<br />
<br />
Today the Monster is one year from double digits. And having an extreme amount of parental bias, she really is the best kid. The youngest has some potential but the jury is still out on her. The Monster is challenging - she challenges us with random questions, thoughts, and perspective. She challenges herself to accomplish something new. She's absolutely headstrong - which is a trait neither of her parents' possess. There are times that I feel that I am holding her back - not intentionally, just out of sheer apathy and laziness. The first example that comes to mind is riding a bike. We delayed getting the Monster on two wheels and it's just because it's a chore to deal with her frustration. But just last week, over a span of two beautiful days, the Monster taught herself to ride a bike.<br />
<br />
We offered guidance but she would refuse our help to hold the seat as she pedaled. And after every fall and scrape and wobbly journey to the pavement, she would pick herself up, yawp her frustration and get right back on it.<br />
<br />
Her relationship with her sibling is similar to any other family I think. They fight one minute and are best friends the next. It's an endless loop of figuring out ways to push each other's buttons and then deflect blame when appropriate. Despite these fights, the Monster is a protective big sis. She'll keep an eye on her sister whenever they are together at our gym's daycare - to the point when the youngest said she'd rather play by herself. The Monster will begrudgingly tuck her sister in the middle of the night, or slice her strawberries.<br />
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Happy birthday to my favorite first born.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-37763584457974060332017-06-02T00:01:00.000-05:002017-06-02T00:01:09.372-05:00Countless clichés come to mind when it comes to marriage.<br />
<ul>
<li>"It's hard work."</li>
<li>"Marriage isn't easy."</li>
<li>"Marriage takes work."</li>
</ul>
Most of it's true. But I've found that marriage itself is easy. Being married makes life easier. Everything is split down the middle. Responsibilities, chores, blame, and success. Or maybe just being married to my wife makes my life easier.<br />
<br /><br />
We always joke about where we would be if we weren't married to each other. I imagine the Wifey living in some cute house near her work - but the inside littered with dirty clothes and unread magazines and every single cabinet door open along with every single light turned on. There would be half empty Diet Dr Peppers scattered throughout. Her pantry would be stocked with Nutella and bread and ice cream. Lots of ice cream. A mangled bottle of toothpaste in the center of a double vanity - one sick filled to the brim with makeup and stuff. And in the middle of it all, she'd be happy as a clam, shelling out 30 bucks a week for Candy Crush items.<br />
<br /><br />
My sky-rise apartment would be spotless, minus the pee around the toilet, but otherwise pretty clean and tidy. It would be simple and undecorated. Maybe a reclining chair and a television. Fridge would be well stocked, maybe even overstocked, and it would smell like Vietnamese food. And despite the appearance of orderliness, I would be unhappy.<br />
<br /><br />
I realized that my life needs some sort of chaos to function. And despite how crazy as it sounds, my wife just brings enough chaos to stabilize my life. And I know I bring the same type of chaos to her life, whether she likes it or not. Marriage is only hard if you make it hard. For the longest time (and still do at times) feel that success in marriage is about wins and losses. Winning arguments, winning fights, losing battles. But it's about respect - talking and listening to the things that make your ears bleed. All the things I hate doing. Because at the end of the day, marriage is about partnership. It's about splitting everything down the middle. It's about appreciating the chaos that comes with the stability.<br />
<br /><br />
Happy 10 years of marriage Wifey.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-60751825180888427692017-01-24T19:33:00.001-06:002017-01-24T19:33:27.143-06:00Spelling Bee Blues<br />
Our oldest was recently selected to compete in her school's spelling bee. She barely studied for the "qualifying" competition, just casually reading the words every so often. We pushed her to study a little harder, so she opted to make flash cards. And the next day we received pictures of her proudly wearing her medal around her neck at school.<br />
<br />
Fast forward a month later (and after their holiday break) she barely studied. We even temporarily lost the sheet with the words she needed to know. The whole night before the spelling bee she kept telling us that she didn't care if she didn't win. Mostly because she was competing with 2nd and 3rd graders.<br />
<br />
We tried to build her confidence up but not too much jus kt so she could bring in a level of competitiveness. But her attitude just seemed like she was just happy to be there with her best friend.<br />
<br />
Every kid was dressed up in their Sunday's finest and the Monster comes rolling in wearing jeans and a Minecraft tshirt. And she didn't care one bit. The spelling bee moved quickly before the degree of difficulty picked. The Monster would casually walk up to the microphone with a smirk on her face. She held her hands behind her back and swayed back and forth, poorly concealing her nervousness.<br />
<br />
I've only competed in the spelling bee so I never got to experience the crowd. There is a thousand times more anxiety in the crowd then with the competitors. I watched as parents mouthed the spelling of the words as their children stood up at the microphone. And with every misspelled word, came a flood of tears. There was even an official review (backed up by camera phone footage) of a child spelling their word correctly.<br />
<br />
The Monster was eliminated on the word 'hitched' - which is a really easy word. She just didn't hear the announcer clearly - it's my fault for not going over her options. She walked off stage with a smile on her face but she was visibly upset. Despite all her pleas that she didn't think she would win and already accepting her fate - she was disappointed because she was eliminated on a word she knew how to spell but didn't know her rules.She spent the rest of the competition exclaiming at all the words she knew how to spell.<br />
<br />
She whispered to her mother, "next year, I need to study more." I am glad she is already preparing herself. We ended up getting a celebratory dinner at her favorite restaurant - I know, we shouldn't reward for failure but she was a good sport. Some kids had to be carried out off the stage because they were so upset they can't spell.<br />
<br />
Here's to next year and studying just a little bit more.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-11812032859511700762017-01-10T13:07:00.002-06:002017-01-10T13:07:11.797-06:00A Little Patience Goes A Long WayI guess it's been awhile.<br />
<br /><br />
My entire life as a father has consisted of two philosophies: keep my children safe and teach them everything I can. I've done a fairly good job of keeping them safe; minor exception of my youngest being attacked by a swarm of hornets or when she fell off the couch and busted her head on the fireplace - which the panicked phone call to the Wifey consisted of "Blood. So much blood," followed by silence.<br />
<br /><br />
The teaching part I am still learning. There are a lot of things that I have to defer to the internet and the powers of YouTube. There are also a lot of things that I defer to their mother. Mostly because she is better at explaining things and she exudes more patience.<br />
<br /><br />
In my 6 years of being a dad, being patient is something I always tell my daughters to do. They need things done immediately or they want to do something at this very moment and I will always respond with a sharp "just wait!" But patience is something that instead of teaching my daughters, I should ultimately learn from them.<br />
<br /><br />
I should learn from my oldest daughter as she takes her time reading each and every word, ingraining the spelling into her brain. I should watch her eyes and finger trace the outline of each letter, memorizing which way the belly sticks out on the letter b or d. I need to appreciate the sloth-like reaction when I tell my youngest she needs to get out of bed as she clings onto the sheets a little tighter.<br />
<br /><br />
I need to take a step back and appreciate everything - I am much too quick to take away their screen time or a treat because I am not instantly gratified. Maybe it's the old Asian in me where I just have such high expectations for them to act normally and appropriately. I fail to recognize that they are acting normally and appropriately: they are just being kids. Kids scream and yell and do crazy things and speak in a weird accent. I guess I haven't realized that in the thick of things, they both just want to do right by me; it just takes them a little longer than I want.<br />
<br /><br />
I could learn some patience from my children. It's something I need to exercise with my wife. I am so quick to get angry or be annoyed rather than take the time to appreciate the little things that she has done for myself and for our family. She just wants to do right by me and I just need the patience to appreciate everything.<br />
<br /><br />
This 2017 is about taking a step back and realizing it's okay to be a little late. It's ok to be a kid and it's always okay to love a little longer.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-79196642412862615902016-01-01T09:21:00.000-06:002016-01-01T09:21:22.890-06:00Duck Duck Goose and 2015This past year didn't start off the way we wanted. Asian tradition says that if you don't spend any money on the first day of the new year, you will be very prosperous for the upcoming year.<br />
<br />
Well we started off the year by fixing our roof, trimming our trees, and getting a new lawnmower.<br />
<br />
But, looking back this year has been the best yet so far. We went to DisneyWorld - although it had it's challenges with the Monster, it was a memorable experience. We also finally have a kid free bed. The girls are in their own room, sleeping through the night, although Pillow is waking up at 5AM to play every day. But the girls are in bed by 8pm every night, which is insane considering the Monster would go to bed whenever she wanted.<br />
<br />
School for the Monster has also helped her out in so many ways. The bullying is no longer an issue and I always smile when I see her walk to the car with her friends and they hug each other goodbye, We no longer need to convince her to play with her cousins - as soon as they see each other, we won't see them again until we're ready to leave. She even made friends with some random girl at the park. The two of them played duck duck goose but that quickly ended when they realized the chances of being the goose were 100%.<br />
<br />
The Monster has been an amazing sister - willingly (sometimes) to help her sister out, teach her new things, good and bad. Even though the jealousy is starting to come up, she does a great job. Pillow will eat anything and the only time she gets upset is when she's hungry. She loves dancing and climbing and falling off the couch.<br />
<br />
This upcoming year we plan on taking a real vacation of just me and the Wifey to Mexico. It'll be the longest we're away from our kids but it would be a much needed vacation.<br />
<br />
2016 is going to have a lot new experiences for us and I just hope it's just as 2015.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-58184669707926066392015-09-30T14:37:00.002-05:002015-09-30T14:37:41.441-05:00Practically ClonesWhen I go through old photos, I can't help but notice how the girls are exact replicas of each other. It's deja vu when I look at Pillow and see her being mischievous and flash her toothy smile. But besides their looks, they truly are two incredibly different souls.<br />
<br />
Since the beginning, the Monster has always slept with her hands acting as her pillow. It's one of the cutest things ever. She still does it. She puts her palms together as if she's praying and then lies her face on her little hands and goes to sleep. Pillow is more of an arm crosser or she'll interlock her fingers. She's also really big on cuddling and has taken a liking to her Daisy doll.<br />
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Pillow is also more affectionate. She'll hug you if you're not feeling well and always provides a kiss before she goes to bed. The Monster, not so much. The Monster keeps it real. You're not feeling well? Take some medicine. Your back hurts? Lie down. Everyone is being too loud and crazy? Ignore it.<br />
<br />
<br />
But Pillow has zero patience. And she's a screamer about it. The Monster would take things as they come and just chill. If Pillow wants something, she'll scream her head off. All the way home. Even if it's a 45 minute car ride.<br />
<br />
The Monster is also a fantastic sleeper. So fantastic that I could literally jump on the bed and she wouldn't budge. Pillow, on the other hand, will sit straight up if I even think about getting up. It's like that mattress commercial where they drop the bowling ball next to the wine, except the exact opposite.<br />
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All in all I am really enjoying watching the doppelgangers grow up.<br />
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<span id="goog_586290563"></span><span id="goog_586290564"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-1989059694967823952015-09-07T15:07:00.004-05:002015-09-07T15:09:05.797-05:00Heartbreak and Everlasting GuiltThe Monster started school a couple of weeks ago and it's been a fairly tough transition...for me. By now, you've heard about her terrible, no good, good for nothing first day of school. Luckily, children are resilient and she wanted to go back to school.<br />
<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, there seems to be another issue that the Wifey and I figured the Monster would eventually encounter; we just didn't think it would happen in kindergarten: the bully.<br />
<br />
Now, we don't know if the Monster is being her typical, dramatic self but it is disconcerting to know that there is some child who was raised to believe that it is okay to say mean things. This bully, who will be simply called, "V", refuses to let her play with certain people. V has also told her that she isn't pretty. I know there are two sides of every story but I don't think it's in the Monster's nature to provoke anyone to tell her she isn't pretty or bar her from any friendships. V has even gotten the Monster in trouble with a teacher by claiming she was the one that pushed a student. V is a manipulative little B. The overprotective father in me just wants to see this V character and then dropkick her in the head. <br />
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You damn well better believe that V's parents will be getting the stink-eye if I ever I see them. The Wifey has done a really good job of coaching the Monster on what to do. Basically, she just ignores her. She doesn't give into V's bullying and continues on with her life. And ever since the Monster has learned to do that, we're hearing less and less about V.<br />
<br />
But as a parent it's hard to hear the struggles that she goes through with her new school. She comes from a daycare where "Daycare Nana" would prepare a separate lunch than the other kids because the Monster wanted to eat something else. She is spoiled. But she is one of the sweetest girls I've ever met, if she can get past her timidity and shyness.<br />
<br />
She told me that one time she went to recess and she couldn't find her friends, so she just went up and down the slide by herself until recess was finished.<br />
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In the mornings, I drop her off at school and have to watch her little body trudge to the door, with a backpack that's a little too big, and her hair in her mouth, her telltale sign that she is scared. <br />
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We've had to change our schedules around because the Monster despises her after school daycare at the local YMCA. We don't think anything bad has happened or she is being bullied; she seems to have made a lot of friends, she just doesn't like being there. When we asked her why she doesn't like the Y, she simply responded, "because I miss my sister."<br />
<br />
Heart.break.<br />
<br />
Luckily, the Monster still wants to go to school. She's still excited to go everyday. I know things will get better and she won't even remember any of these events but for me and the Wifey, we just have to hope that Pillow fares better.<br />
<span id="goog_1707358718"></span><span id="goog_1707358719"></span><span id="goog_23309583"></span><span id="goog_23309584"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-91658798567662809262015-07-23T10:32:00.000-05:002015-07-23T10:32:37.524-05:00School is Around the CornerIt just a few short weeks the Monster will be starting kindergarten. We opted not to go with public schooling, even though the Wifey and I are by-products of the public institution, but we went with a charter school. We did our research and just felt the Monster would get the best experience and education.<br />
<br /><br />
The Charter school is one that she will have to go through until she graduates - I worry that she won't get the social exposure that she might have gotten in a public school setting. There won't be the Friday night football games or the cheerleaders. Or the over the top homecoming dances and cheerleaders. Or cheerleaders. The Wifey says they still have sports but what's the fun in watching a team beat up on Sunnyvale Home School or Prime Prep (RIP). Luckily the Monster won't know any difference.<br />
<br /><br />
I remember when I started kindergarten and my mom just walked me to my desk in Mrs. Taylor's class (that bitch) and that was it. No emotional good byes or my mom peering through the window as she makes sure I am okay. I just sat down and that was it. I just remember my brother telling me if I don't know how to spell my name, then the teachers won't know who I am and I will be able to come home because they wouldn't know who I belonged to. <br />
<br /><br />
I can already see the Wifey crying the night before and the morning of and crying when she picks her up. The Monster is excited for school or I should say she's excited about the idea of school. She has already mentioned how she can't watch her YouTube videos at night because she's going to be busy doing homework. She'll soon realize that she can't get up and go to the bathroom whenever she wants or raid the pantry when she's hungry or sleep until 10AM. It's going to be an adjustment for her. But just like everything she's done so far, she'll probably surprise us and be the most well-behaved kid ever.<br />
<br /><br />
It'll be the first time that Pillow is separated from her sister. Although Pillow is more inclined just to annoy the hell out of Monster, she follows her everywhere. And steals her food and takes her iPad. And Monster takes it all in stride. She really is the best big sister.<br />
<br /><br />
So in just a few short weeks I'll be learning how to do basic math so I can help the Monster with her homework.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-78980081069644810182015-06-11T07:53:00.000-05:002015-06-11T07:53:22.171-05:00A Year Goes ByDear Pillow:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><br />
It's been a year since you made your rather quick debut. I was worried you were going to screw up our routine but you've done a good job of fitting in. <br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
You already have the ability to piss off your sister by kicking her with your chunky legs or taking her food when she isn't looking but you'll realize that you have one of the best sisters ever. The other day y'all were playing in her room and she came out to the living room to look for electrical outlet plugs because you kept on sticking your fingers in one. It was a little scary that she left you unattended in her room all by yourself while she looked for those plugs but at least she is looking at for you. <br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
Food seems to be your favorite thing as you'll double fist snacks while you have your mom's boob in your mouth. You throw a fit if you don't have your milk as soon as you wake up but as soon as you're full, all is well with the world.<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
This past year has shown how resilient you are - the sickness every other weekend is a gentle reminder to us on how fragile you can be. You've already been to the emergency room and you've already had an IV put in your arm. I've never had an IV before.<br />
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You're not a fan of staying asleep, which kinda wears everybody down. But at least you're a happy, cute baby. It definitely helps that you aren't a grouchy kid.<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
It may seem like you're an afterthought sometimes; we finally purchased your first toy a couple days ago. But you seem content with playing with anything you can find around the house. Who knows what your personality will be like when you finally begin to talk.<br />
<br /><br />
Happy 1st birthday you little stinkpot.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-79976296689285058932015-06-02T04:00:00.000-05:002015-06-02T07:46:32.420-05:00Eight Years and CountingEight years ago on my wedding night, one of my friends came up to me towards the end of the reception and matter-of-factly stated, "I don't think you'll make it past three years but I sure had fun tonight."<br />
<br />
And eight years after the Wifey and I both said 'I do', here we are, still going strong. So eat shit Zack. I know it was probably all the alcohol talking so I wasn't too terribly offended by the statement but in retrospect, I am surprised the Wifey hasn't left me.<br />
<br />
Ask anybody who knows me and I can bet they will say three things: 1) I am extremely witty. So witty in fact that if wit were a superpower, I'd possess it. 2) I am extremely sarcastic. I think that has to do with my wit, which is both a blessing and a curse. 3) lastly, I am an asshole. I don't always mean to be, it's a combination of my wit and sarcasm and the fact that I have about 1% capacity for grace.<br />
<br />
So for everyone who knows the Wifey, they know she's none of the above, although she has gotten more witty over the years. She's patient, compassionate, loving, and sensitive. She's learn to predict my mood swings, even though I will deny it, and she has an uncanny ability to think about my perspective before she makes any decisions. She knows I hate crowds. She knows I hate people. And she'll plan accordingly. I know, it's pretty selfish of me and selfless of her that she has to do those things and that's why I am surprised she hasn't packed her things and left.<br />
<br />
But throughout all these years, if there is one thing I can be 100% certain about, it's the fact that the Wifey will love me no matter what. She has complemented me in every way imaginable and I really can't articulate how grateful and truly blessed I am.<br />
<br />
I guess I can say it's actually me who is the luckiest.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-44270947863583880092015-04-10T14:57:00.002-05:002015-04-10T14:57:16.395-05:00A Sick BabyThere are very few things that actually make me heartbroken - it just happens that one of those things is seeing your infant child completely helpless to illness. This past Easter weekend, starting around Thursday, the Pillow woke up with a slight fever. We've been very fortunate that both kids have been relatively healthy but when something does go wrong, it's pretty serious.<br />
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We figured the high fever was only temporary and we had a checkup with the doctor that day. The doc just said it was probably a virus that was floating around since she had no symptoms other than the fever. Come Friday morning and there wasn't any progress. Her fever was still high (104ish) but this time she wasn't as active. She just wanted to cuddle and sleep. So back to the doctor. And the doctor stood firm that it was a virus but she also hinted it could be bacterial infection. If the fever hadn't gone down by Monday, to come in and get tests done for an infection.<br />
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So we waited. Still no progress. Still the same the 104 degree temperature. The Pillow has really enjoyed Bomb Pops (which happens to be the only thing I want when I am sick) but she didn't have any interest for it. It was just cuddles and sleep. And then finally by Easter Sunday, the Wifey couldn't take it anymore so we went to an after-hours pediatrician. Pillow was so dehydrated they couldn't get any urine to test. The doctor told us we should visit the ER. And off we went. Easter Sunday and we were stuck in the isolation suite while people were feasting on my best batch of mashed potatoes I've ever made for Easter dinner.<br />
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After blood tests and IV and hours of waiting, Pillow was prescribed some antibiotics. Not much information was given. The IV really brought some liveliness back to Pillow and for a brief twenty minutes she seemed almost normal with her talking and overall curiosity.<br />
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Eventually the fever would go down and we found out that Pillow had E.Coli in her system. But for almost a full week Pillow just wasn't herself.<br />
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We have a healthier and happy Pillow and her big sister was awesome throughout the whole thing. She knew we couldn't pay as much attention to her and she didn't have any major breakdowns from it. I managed to even sneak a visit to the park. Maybe she made a wish for her sister to get better.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-41965960206468478332015-03-23T08:57:00.006-05:002015-03-23T09:06:13.775-05:00Five Years Later<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Monster:<br />
<br />
Five years ago today you were the most anticipated event amongst all of your parents' friends and family. You see, out of our closest friends, you were going to be the first kid. And combine that with the fact that your mom is really pretty and I was just an overall cute baby, you were definitely going to be the talk of the town. And you were. In fact, you still are.<br />
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You don't how many times my friends will tell me how crazy or weird or cute you are. Maybe we've overexposed you on the internet. Maybe we've let everyone see that your life isn't just about perfectly posed moments but the times you do freak out at Target. Or the grocery store. Or the mall. Or in public. Or at home. I would like to say we're building up your humility when we tell you "everyone is looking at you" in hopes that would calm you down. But in these past five years, we've realized you just don't give an F.<br />
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In these past five years you have shown us that you're the most intelligent, caring, and aware kid we've ever met. You've also shown us you're the meanest, tortuous, and bitchiest kid we've ever met. You can be read a book once and remember the exact flow of the story. You can tell us where you left he most random ass object, even if the last time you touched it was 4 days ago. You're always quick to yell at us when we leave our shoes on in the house (because we got new carpet installed, not because I'm Asian) and you never hesitate to comfort your crying sister, even if you were the reason she is crying in the first place.<br />
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You are quick to mimic your mother or make a weird voice and say "oooh, look I'm Asian" like it's some sort of insult. Joke is on you, you're half Asian. You can tell when your mother is getting angry and with perfect comedic timing start yelling "HULK SMASH". I laugh every time I think about it because it's such an accurate portrayal but then I get really sad because you get that wit from me and it's only going to be so long before my aging mind can't keep up with my smart ass spawn.<br />
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Five years old still should mean you're our baby. I still carry you when your legs are tired, I still lug you around when you've fallen asleep on the couch, and I still squeeze your tooth paste onto your tooth brush. But at five years old, everyday you're just going to get much older than you were the day before. Historically your grandmother would spend your birthday with you but that didn't happen this year. So I took it off and showered you with events like jumping at the indoor trampoline park or going to see Cinderella and letting you eat all the popcorn and M&Ms your little belly could handle. But instead you opted to get a haircut, a pretty dress, and spend your birthday with your friends at daycare.<br />
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And just like five years ago today, I'm sitting around just watching the clock until I get hang out with you.<br />
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Happy 5th birthday Monster.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-30832164993261021572015-03-12T13:17:00.001-05:002015-03-12T13:17:31.096-05:00The Perils of the Stomach BugThe family has been hit with a stomach bug. At first I thought it was just food poisoning as the Wifey made other dinner plans so I was left to scavenge the freezer. The kiddos' favorite meal happens to be plain boiled pasta and since I like taste I opted for the questionable frozen Chicken Poppers from Trader Joes. A few hours later I was having repeat visits to Mr. Toilet and eventually dehydration set in and I was left to lie in bed cramping and in misery. At one point in the night I got up to get my work laptop and I opened the bedroom door and saw that my laptop was on the other side of the room. But I was so exhausted it looked like it was a mile away, like it was a never-ending hallway from Alice in Wonderland. I gave up before even leaving the room and went back to bed.<br />
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And now two days later we have the Monster barfing up a storm in the car and Pillow throwing up on everyone and the last man still standing is the Wifey. I think it's just a natural mom-thing to be immune to everything and be the caretaker. As I lied in bed paralyzed from the shitz, I could hear her still taking care of both kids as she was running on about an hour of sleep for the whole week. The only energy I could muster was a 'thank you'. She had every opportunity to say "F IT' and go sleep in the guest room but she has a heart and compassion for three sick people.<br />
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Hopefully this bug is over with soon, the Monster is having an early 5th birthday party. We'll see how it goes.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-40232932718106489852015-01-26T13:47:00.000-06:002015-01-26T13:47:52.364-06:00The Rise of the HashtagsThe Monster always seems to find a way to surprise us everyday. The most recent thing she has been doing is saying "hashtag" before whatever action she's about to do. It's like I am witnessing a human twitter account. The Monster just uses hashtag when she's talking to her sister. As I was sitting on the couch, I could over hear her saying, "hashtag, I'm going to pee on you." Or "hashtag, I am going to spank you" or "hashtag, eat you vegetables." The social media nerd in me can just see the # appear in front of me. <br />
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And that was the moment that I am losing my little monster and she's actually growing up and doing growing up (albeit annoying) things. #saddaddyUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-86233369986847591392015-01-13T16:48:00.002-06:002015-01-13T16:48:23.745-06:00A Texan Lost in King Lombardi's Court<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cool sign you have there Wisconsin</td></tr>
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This past weekend I embarked on a trip to cross off an item off the very much cliché bucketlist: A trip to Lambeau Field. As I said before, the universe and it's stars all had to perfectly align for me to warrant a trip to Wisconsin in the dead of winter. <br />
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Everyone I spoke with expressed their sheer jealousy and complete bewilderment that someone would be willing to spontaneously go to a city where the week's high temperature was a single digit. I didn't plan on the hows of the trip, I just bought my ticket and hoped fate would help me finish my quest. I bought one single ticket, in a random section of a stadium, in a state I had never visited before. Nothing could go wrong.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw12pFUh48QoTb2-sAnypzoBygrzauAdngldLUIwU9DS5_tkrDZLqX_2hJH-7vwdubVAKuTmHUnaap4yCh3H-dteBqtQsKFgnZjeKvzo8d_tq8mv9Qs_Zt6YGCwkGfpnbpmjrZbVwm9TQ/s1600/IMG_4484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw12pFUh48QoTb2-sAnypzoBygrzauAdngldLUIwU9DS5_tkrDZLqX_2hJH-7vwdubVAKuTmHUnaap4yCh3H-dteBqtQsKFgnZjeKvzo8d_tq8mv9Qs_Zt6YGCwkGfpnbpmjrZbVwm9TQ/s1600/IMG_4484.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a>The original plan was for me to fly into Milwaukee (a two hour drive to Green Bay) and meet up with an old wrestling buddy from middle school. We were then supposed to meet up with his friend and drive to Green Bay and stay at his friend's, friend's house for the night. Well, turns out Northern Hospitality doesn't exist. The friend of the friend didn't want a stranger (or maybe a Cowboys fan?) in her house. It was then suggested I get a hotel room for the night and I could meet up with them at the game the next day. Since the game was only a few days away, the price of a hotel room was too steep for me to pay for one person. Fortunately I had a backup plan. I had a group of friends who were going to fly into Chicago and make the drive to Green Bay from there (with a stay in Milwaukee the night before the game). The only negative was that one of them happened to be a diehard Packers fan and a Wisconsin native. They gladly accepted a fourth person to their entourage and I had the logistics figured out.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwvQA7AKEmjId_l8YH9qbEcD2OK7LQJa6hp16sJvpslh3rrMe-JPwMePA0GnLYlx9tazTcJL0IYVlex01RhulaWwC739EnU0b2nYHaSs_ivqRZ6DDga6MdMeK5qujY_746lh7SoznD1h8/s1600/IMG_4466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwvQA7AKEmjId_l8YH9qbEcD2OK7LQJa6hp16sJvpslh3rrMe-JPwMePA0GnLYlx9tazTcJL0IYVlex01RhulaWwC739EnU0b2nYHaSs_ivqRZ6DDga6MdMeK5qujY_746lh7SoznD1h8/s1600/IMG_4466.JPG" height="200" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEial5BNXwPKW5cNiIkDrSbthFUla-XR4_G9xPnE_to5-Kgg3cnNE_8Sb9lA99O7-n6HXMnL10ZMwK8EI1irFvrRmwYFJ8dWev-GfrZmcuPJNbSGqYW0OuDE4IGUc-P9bsPUhJUps4sV8c4/s1600/IMG_4473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEial5BNXwPKW5cNiIkDrSbthFUla-XR4_G9xPnE_to5-Kgg3cnNE_8Sb9lA99O7-n6HXMnL10ZMwK8EI1irFvrRmwYFJ8dWev-GfrZmcuPJNbSGqYW0OuDE4IGUc-P9bsPUhJUps4sV8c4/s1600/IMG_4473.JPG" height="200" width="200" /></a>What does a native Texan (who doesn't hunt) have in his closet that could withstand multiple hours in single digit temperatures? Absolutely nothing. Google "how to survive Lambeau" and you would be surprised at the countless articles written about the journey. I also sought advice from the brother in law who went to school in Colorado Springs and a co-worker who just moved from Alaska. Everyone's consensus was that no matter how well I was prepared, I was going to freeze my ass off. But if you are to prepare for winter at Lambeau, I will highly recommend wool socks, insulated waterproof boots, a ski mask/ninja mask, and lots of layers. Lambeau hands out free hand warmers and free hot chocolate. A heat wave happened to pass through Green Bay for the Sunday game, bringing the high temperature to a brisk 22 degrees. This was a major improvement from the 8 degree high the night before. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqTMTVEhwNAGBFFcfcVgbaEwKfNR32ymVZ2KxuJI4d_x9SZbGuGcZJy_o1WOLjv8wtAeWhR1eZT7Odk2GStGvhWr5n3q_CM9HhfESu0yCdCWH-FXMf51-E3BJK0hZtqx3UVA1K3qiWFU/s1600/IMG_4468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqTMTVEhwNAGBFFcfcVgbaEwKfNR32ymVZ2KxuJI4d_x9SZbGuGcZJy_o1WOLjv8wtAeWhR1eZT7Odk2GStGvhWr5n3q_CM9HhfESu0yCdCWH-FXMf51-E3BJK0hZtqx3UVA1K3qiWFU/s1600/IMG_4468.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEXtRw2F2rF5se48kkOsPctaUB0K1_MnHFJuKy1HC_P-t9Ptu6FPhZWlXCLftvtM9udJxUePws7iDVrR579CdLxYfoTY-wuXHM5r_0_BgIGySG2paT2f6F30wBLydp0-SOG8R2dC0Ar0/s1600/IMG_4463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEXtRw2F2rF5se48kkOsPctaUB0K1_MnHFJuKy1HC_P-t9Ptu6FPhZWlXCLftvtM9udJxUePws7iDVrR579CdLxYfoTY-wuXHM5r_0_BgIGySG2paT2f6F30wBLydp0-SOG8R2dC0Ar0/s1600/IMG_4463.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a>We arrived into Green Bay the morning of the game, roughly around 830AM and kick off was at noon. Lambeau Field is pretty much Green Bay. There are houses directly across the street from the front of the stadium where homeowners let fans park in their yards (for a small fee) and even have roof top decks so people can hang out. My initial impression of Green Bay is that it's pretty much a college town. Stadium parking is reserved for season ticket holders but there is $20 parking within a 5 minute walk to the stadium. Bars and businesses line the perimeter of the parking and invite anyone to drink a beer with them. A 24oz Miller Lite was only $6.50. Twenty dollar parking and two beers for less than 7 bucks at an NFL playoff game. This whole town is stuck in time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2CYwuDFb1S1jzPTyRCdcbp0od49aOSpdD-xrwratX2Ir5b2LYPoQa6rxipXlWBVwpx5JrcUNzm3RaMVyHxEWJeMeT5jRIIVYlX25_Itk717O94VGiZaX-mwDdwOG0zgvA0sxeR0BIfA/s1600/IMG_4470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2CYwuDFb1S1jzPTyRCdcbp0od49aOSpdD-xrwratX2Ir5b2LYPoQa6rxipXlWBVwpx5JrcUNzm3RaMVyHxEWJeMeT5jRIIVYlX25_Itk717O94VGiZaX-mwDdwOG0zgvA0sxeR0BIfA/s1600/IMG_4470.JPG" height="200" width="200" /></a>Most of the tailgating is done indoors and the preferred spot is a place called Stadium Dive. Cheeseburger and fries will cost you about 7 bucks but the heat is free. We ventured out to see the tailgating outdoors and it was supposed to be a sight to be seen but overall it was just meh. Nothing special. There were a lot of Cowboys fans so that made me happy. We went into the stadium at 11AM and split our ways to our respective seats. Since I bought only one ticket I had no idea who I would be sitting next to. Luckily, I sat next to a family of Cowboys fans from Iowa and I knew I was going to be okay. Everywhere I looked there was a Cowboys fan within a high fives reach.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfSIapVHLQE1WEsFVAEzMnaelKm-2UQM5po-TyQfcnhY-8ehftfXR0uJCgl9oCtRP44e0Uq2oObN2ghlRzBVNt1bk9ncjKctELs0GFTZscgL8uQYMLnAdPx4AFkZ0OOUOkQ-tLpFFPHg/s1600/IMG_4475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfSIapVHLQE1WEsFVAEzMnaelKm-2UQM5po-TyQfcnhY-8ehftfXR0uJCgl9oCtRP44e0Uq2oObN2ghlRzBVNt1bk9ncjKctELs0GFTZscgL8uQYMLnAdPx4AFkZ0OOUOkQ-tLpFFPHg/s1600/IMG_4475.JPG" height="200" width="200" /></a>It was recommended to rent a seat for the game (only six bucks) because the seats are metal bleacher stands. Wet, cold temperatures don't make it ideal to sit directly on the benches so this was a very good recommendation. The only problem is most people stand at the games because everyone is crammed onto the benches. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfCzsiLxQ4HMnykJjFr0U7GDVbKoflTKjYlBOZcX9ASAaGZymInjkM7-okZ9uaRH0OsA83rib4bviGZjALmum4Wk1mL5726LW780asSWe7hAyBaqMmhQ9_wwIp5nTUDiLyRzn9LrKYAU/s1600/IMG_4481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfCzsiLxQ4HMnykJjFr0U7GDVbKoflTKjYlBOZcX9ASAaGZymInjkM7-okZ9uaRH0OsA83rib4bviGZjALmum4Wk1mL5726LW780asSWe7hAyBaqMmhQ9_wwIp5nTUDiLyRzn9LrKYAU/s1600/IMG_4481.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a>The game was cold. Nothing too unbearable but if the weather has been in the single digits, I don't know how long I would have lasted. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaqIvo3esyXhg3uCSnB8EWJY1h081sBGP8We8OMsyJ5S7qD6iavsFZs492pec0KVB-vJwpPmgqGpcRWkXHvv3DDHCyqMsj6-xNXj27kTGsIdVn2wHEQRbB8c1OIqLgRb5LdMfEPiO2Ik/s1600/IMG_4489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaqIvo3esyXhg3uCSnB8EWJY1h081sBGP8We8OMsyJ5S7qD6iavsFZs492pec0KVB-vJwpPmgqGpcRWkXHvv3DDHCyqMsj6-xNXj27kTGsIdVn2wHEQRbB8c1OIqLgRb5LdMfEPiO2Ik/s1600/IMG_4489.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post game walk of shame</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am not going to go into my opinions of the game. But I will say Packer fans are by far the classiest fanbase in the league. Maybe it was their own guilt that they may have gotten away with a call but at least a hundred Packer fans came up to me after the game and thanked me for coming all the way out to Lambeau and that my team played one hell of a game. Even at the Packer bars after the game I was met with the same classiness. I was offered a blanket and hand warmers by Packer fans at the game and didn't worry about my safety for one second. The experience didn't end the way I wanted it to but I know I won't have any hesitations planning a return trip next year. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsTUQchyphenhyphenPjZQjdxpUldwtfUMSCSy7FnaxM7Fs77Fq-xJYiTKHWH5C8p7Fus24EWkOjw_jNpuhl07hqPjKtBme8ggl8pLTa5rLfo2_gMPpQRcdT8k1-DrRcYrGCih_LH7YWSWAQNEdvx0/s1600/IMG_4492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsTUQchyphenhyphenPjZQjdxpUldwtfUMSCSy7FnaxM7Fs77Fq-xJYiTKHWH5C8p7Fus24EWkOjw_jNpuhl07hqPjKtBme8ggl8pLTa5rLfo2_gMPpQRcdT8k1-DrRcYrGCih_LH7YWSWAQNEdvx0/s1600/IMG_4492.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Packer Pimp in action after the game</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-76339337500351527242015-01-07T10:44:00.000-06:002015-01-07T11:53:53.524-06:00Dallas Observer Piece<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">So everyone keeps telling me I
should write for the Dallas Observer. I tried a couple of years ago but they
didn't like my style so I didn't care to try again. But the Wifey was a little
more adamant I send something in again. I figured I would just appease her and
send something in and see they come back with. This is what I submitted. It's a
list because everyone loves lists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilTtC4vMMcg32NVLlRpvFIAKlyAqY0UxwcWi_WOTm7rd06iy2UVGhOuU_NuM7awFoByr91gFhupsgxCwawMOArFNj3np8aRhW6wVrQamqrfm8bY1T79iTPDSGOOzsd-pUCFgl_b_IaBBs/s1600/buffet1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilTtC4vMMcg32NVLlRpvFIAKlyAqY0UxwcWi_WOTm7rd06iy2UVGhOuU_NuM7awFoByr91gFhupsgxCwawMOArFNj3np8aRhW6wVrQamqrfm8bY1T79iTPDSGOOzsd-pUCFgl_b_IaBBs/s1600/buffet1.jpg" height="409" width="640" /></a></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Growing up poor, eating out was a luxury my family rarely enjoyed. But if my
dad got lucky on a scratch off ticket or my mom hit it big at Bingo, you could
bet your sweet ass our family was headed to the nearest all you can eat buffet.
How else do you satisfy six different appetites at one sitting for a bargain of
a price? Until the day John Tesar can put a cheese enchilada, fried chicken
leg, salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, and green jello all on one plate for 10
bucks, I will continue to pull a Meghan Trainor and be all about that buffet.
But it’s not a free-for-all, there is some etiquette that needs to be observed.<u1:p> <o:p></o:p></u1:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Honor the
Sneeze Guard</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The quarter inch piece of
plexi-glass separating your face from my dinner is my reassurance that you
aren’t breathing germs all over everything. I know, the sneeze guard’s
protection against foreign agents is about as safe as Presby’s safeguards for
their nurses against Ebola. That sneeze guard satisfies my peace of mind when
you aren’t maneuvering your body under the sneeze guard like you’re escaping
from Shawshank just to get one piece of chicken. Get busy living or get busy
dying but do both above the sneeze guard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Don’t Be a Vulture<u1:p> </u1:p></span></b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
I see you hanging out at the fried shrimp, pretending to text on your phone, just
waiting for the next trough of over battered shrimp to come out of the kitchen.
That’s fine, just don’t take all of the freaking shrimp. It’s like fried shrimp
just became currency and you plan on diving head first into your pile of fried
shrimp like Scrooge McDuck. Grab enough to hold you over and then let everyone
else have a turn. And if there are still some left when people have dispersed,
treat yo self.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Follow the Flow<u1:p> </u1:p></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><u1:p><br /></u1:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
Just like reading a book, buffets should move left to right. Don’t think you
are entitled to immediately go after the macaroni cheese just because you don’t
care for vegetables. Get in line, wait your turn, and then scoop your food.
Also, don’t take your sweet ass time putting the food on your plate. It holds
up the line and chances are you aren’t going to eat everything. This holds
especially true if there’s a carving station. I am eyeing that ham just as much
as you are - it’s not an exit off of 635, you don’t get to drive all the way to
the front and hope someone lets you in.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Take What You Want But Eat All
You Take<u1:p> </u1:p></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><u1:p><br /></u1:p></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ah yes, Confucius’s Golden Rule.
This benefits the restaurant and the consumer. Not wasting food means more food
for everyone else which means lower prices. You know what happens when you load
up your plate only to push it to the side because you suddenly realized the
extra 6500 calories wasn’t worth it? Golden Corral starts a ridiculous
promotion where you get to take home six yeast rolls after buying two adult
dinner buffets. They are trying to entice people to buy two adult dinners just
to bring home rolls. I’m sorry but after eating at Golden Corral, the only
thing I am bringing home is shame and guilt.</span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><b>There are no rules at the dessert bar<u1:p> </u1:p></b></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Congratulations, you saved enough
room in your stomach to warrant a trip to the dessert bar, now you might as well
go all out. Do you want soft serve in a cone? Pull the lever and make yourself
a two foot cone. Pack that ice cream into the cone like you’re trying to avoid
the luggage fees at the airport. Ice cream getting too tall? Flip it and throw
it into a bowl and then top it with that burnt bread pudding. Enjoy your
masterpiece and don’t forget to tip your server, they are cleaning up that mess
after you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I get a response and basically I
was told that "buffets are not in their wheelhouse." I tried and
didn't get picked. There goes my chance for a Pulitzer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-10764780108939678262015-01-05T14:25:00.002-06:002015-01-05T14:25:16.996-06:00Cowboys PlayoffsThe Wifey will probably get irritated that I am digressing from the Monster and Pillow to discuss this but I am super excited about what's going to happen.<br />
<br />
I'm a diehard Dallas Cowboys fan. I've mentioned it a few times; the Wifey does a great job of scheduling around the game. She doesn't mind, she gets to nap during the games and I get to focus on what's going on.<br />
<br />
But anyways, the perfect conditions came up that if the Cowboys were to advance in the playoffs they would play Green Bay at Lambeau Field. Cowboys against the Packers in the playoffs? There is nothing more iconic than that. Since we have the ability to fly anywhere in the country for free and I happened to have a friend who's a Cowboys fan and lives in Milwakuee, there is no better opportunity. Not to be a pessimist but this scenario could probably never happen again. The last time the Cowboys played the Packers at Lambeau for the playoffs was in 1967. So I asked the Wifey if I could go. She didn't even hesitate to say yes.<br />
<br />
I am not passionate about many things but the Wifey is well aware of my love for the Cowboys. I wanted to buy the tickets early last week when I saw how affordable they were compared to the tickets at AT&T Stadium but not to jinx any chances the Cowboys had, I waited. I missed on an opportunity to get a seat in the same section and row as the Lambeau Leap; it would have been amazing to have Tony Romo jump in the stands and I grab the sweet butt of his but I didn't want to leave anything to chance.<br />
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As soon as the Cowboys recovered the fumble to seal the game, I was already half way finished to booking my ticket. And so I will be in Green Bay on Sunday with a kickoff temperature of 9 degrees cheering on my Dallas Cowboys. It wouldn't be at all possible without my awesome wife. Thanks love.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-20997474054134471692014-12-26T10:00:00.001-06:002014-12-26T10:00:30.889-06:00Another Christmas in the BooksThis year's Christmas was a little more low-key than in the past. Maybe it was the nice weather (sunny and 60 degrees) as opposed to the snow and ice that came through last year. We had a modest Christmas for our family but we still ended up coming home with a car trunk full of stuff to step on.<br />
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The Wifey has finally gotten better from the flu so the house is a little more cheery. For awhile it was just a house full of dreariness with the Monster crying because she's been holed in the house and Pillow always needing her attention. She probably would have gotten better faster if the Wifey was able to get some rest but she had to take care of Pillow while I was at work.<br />
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Here is the official Northpark picture:<br />
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We have a lot of goals for the New Year but the main one is to get our damn house clean. We say it every year but this is the year. In fact, 2015 is going to be our best year.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-371158682669619392014-12-08T09:24:00.002-06:002014-12-08T09:24:12.955-06:00It's Getting FunWe're only a few days away from Pillow turning six months and now she's getting fun. She's beginning to laugh out loud and blabbering non-stop. She still has sleep issues and teething is probably happening but the interaction is approving. Overall she's a really happy baby.<br />
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We've also noticed how much Pillow loves to eat. The Wifey made the decision to start Pillow her baby-led weaning. We're slowly introducing new items but making sure it's manageable. Pillow will freak out when she doesn't have something in her hands to shove in her mouth. We've started on small stuff like avocado and bananas and the occasional bread. Her grandmother has been feeding her scrambled eggs and mashed potatoes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5Cd37qzf8fzFXa5vl4ewvAP9SaX3wyWYIr8t2eOe4jXEmjGUCgyxUq6mfx3lAuLN85sKoQAaY03KcL44600eWQ3M9AD5eD3z0-hUieuv6zjdt21Lo796RvDwcuiDOcHU05n9dqXhpOI/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5Cd37qzf8fzFXa5vl4ewvAP9SaX3wyWYIr8t2eOe4jXEmjGUCgyxUq6mfx3lAuLN85sKoQAaY03KcL44600eWQ3M9AD5eD3z0-hUieuv6zjdt21Lo796RvDwcuiDOcHU05n9dqXhpOI/s1600/image.jpg" height="320" width="271" /></a></div>
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This past week we ventured out to NorthPark to get some pictures with Santa. We went midweek to avoid the line. We arrived at NorthPark at 930am and received our number: 47. 46 people came up to NorthPark before 930am to get a number only to come back at 11am when pictures would start. The good thing about getting a number is you're allowed to come back at anytime and essentially "skip" the line. Just don't lose your number. The Wifey has pretty much lost the ticket every year so I decided to be the holder of the number.<br />
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We didn't get around to taking the Santa pictures until about 2pm that day; this was after we went to the Perot Museum. By then, the Monster was done for the day and refused to cooperate. She could be a stubborn B sometimes.<br />
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We are just now getting our mind right for Christmas.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-84832617726028673992014-11-26T12:58:00.001-06:002014-11-26T12:58:28.872-06:00The 7pm CraziesEvery night, at 7pm, the Monster begins her transformation. She's usually a sweet girl who is eager to tell us about her day, spends time drawing pictures and working on her alphabet, maybe even quietly watches television as she snacks. But then as soon the clock strikes 7pm, something switches and she becomes the biggest pain ever. It's like Cinderella but totally opposite.<br />
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The Monster will just start running crazy through house, jumping and doing backflips off the couches. It's like our living room suddenly turned into a parkour course. She will strip down and throw her toys everywhere, make it rain with her bowl of rice. I don't know what happens but she just starts going crazy. It's like all her energy is built up for that one very moment and it becomes unleashed on everyone in the house.<br />
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The Wifey has started incorporating Kid's Yoga before she goes to bed and it seems to work for the most part. But going to bed is still a pain as the Monster still finds a way to annoy the hell out of us. <br />
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But despite all her craziness she's still just a kid. I have now mentally prepared myself when the clock gets closer to 7pm.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-47241477244973840212014-11-14T12:33:00.001-06:002014-11-14T12:33:07.413-06:00My Struggle So FarI get asked a lot how life is with two kids and I usually give the generic, "it's about the same" response.<br />
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And I guess for dad's who are about to get another addition to the family, it doesn't help. I want to tell you that your routines will change, you'll be needed even more than the first time, your plate becomes that much more full.<br />
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But for me, it doesn't. And maybe it's just me and my situation and it's just this point in my life and in everyone's life that makes my experience with the second child that much more difficult.<br />
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It's nothing against Pillow; I adore her and love her and she really brings a smile to my face every time she smiles back. She may cry but that brief 30 seconds where she is too tired to scream again and she just rests her head on my chest makes it all worthwhile. Or at least until she gets her 2nd, 3rd, and 4th wind.<br />
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But my struggle with this second child is the fact that I feel incredibly alone. It's a battle for attention from the Wifey and I am competing against two other people. One who is literally attached to her and the other one who has mastered the four year old tantrum.<br />
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I hang out with the Monster and we interact by taking turns playing video games or me teaching her how to punch, just in case if there are other threatening four year old boys. But as soon as the Wifey gets home, the Monster quickly makes me aware that she's bored of me.<br />
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And from that moment going forward I'm a loner. A lot of it is just me not speaking up and communicating my feelings but as soon as the Wifey gets home she's off to feeding Pillow. And then it's listening to the Monster talk about her day and everything she can think of. Then it's dinner and catching up on shows and on each other's day. That's it. She used to come home and immediately and give me a kiss and a hug but now that time is filled with kicking off her boots and fighting off the Monster. Sometimes I can manage to sneak in a kiss when she's washing the baby bottles and an affectionate hug until the Monster comes running and screaming "oooh family hug!"<br />
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It doesn't help the situation that we also are sharing our bed with everyone. The Monster won't sleep in her room and rather than put up a fight every night, we've just given up. And Pillow sleeps a little better if she's being cuddled and at this point, I am all for anything to get the Wifey a few extra minutes of sleep here and there.<br />
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I guess I just miss my wife and a sense of affection/attention. And that's why communication is even more important with more kids in the house. That's my struggle so far and I know eventually it will pass but right now all I can do is just sit on my side of the couch.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-82791253410085953302014-11-04T18:36:00.005-06:002014-11-04T18:36:53.857-06:00An Overdue UpdateI guess it's been awhile.<br />
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Pillow is fast approaching 5 months old. She's definitely not the same as the Monster (my nickname for Baby) but I guess it could be that my memory might be skewed. It seems Pillow is always crying or being fussy around me. I've mentioned a few times how she doesn't really like me. It's like she heard all the crazy things I said in the womb and is holding a grudge against me. Monster is a four year old. Sassy, rude, and the best big sister ever. It really freaks me out how much she helps with Pillow - how she will give Pillow her pacifier if she starts crying or she'll put a blanket over her if she things she might be too cold. Or the countless reminders that she's probably hungry or needs a diaper change.<br />
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But through all my frustrations with a newborn who won't stop crying if I come even close to her and a four year old who will snap back with "don't argue with me" replies, I am still incredibly grateful for the Wifey. She hasn't once complained about my incredible ability to sleep through anything while Pillow is screaming in the middle of the night. She operates on only stretches of sleep, an hour and half here and there throughout the night. And then her alarm will go off and she will help me get Monster ready for daycare.<br />
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I've been trying to help around when and where I can. Making dinner, cleaning the house, and just making sure she is relaxed as possible. I hope she understands how truly grateful we are as a family to have her around. All I know is if she wasn't around, there would be a crying baby and a little kid wearing shirts inside out to hide the stains.<br />
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But I know everyone comes for the pictures, so here are some from the camera roll.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-30149402452910138512014-08-21T11:00:00.004-05:002014-08-21T11:00:33.385-05:00So It EndsThe Wifey heads back to work next week after taking her maternity leave. I was happy that she got to spend time with Pillow and was really ecstatic she didn't have to deal with her stress at work. This time around things are drastically different since Baby was born. We no longer have an awesome live-in nanny, I no longer "work from home, and now we have second, much louder mouth in the house.<br />
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Baby will continue to go to her in-home daycare but Pillow is going to hang our with her Nana until she gets a little older. It helps us save a little more money (since daycare in general is expensive) but it also lets Pillow develop her immune system. Baby didn't start going to daycare until she was a lot older and we were lucky to avoid most of the daycare illnesses like ear infections.<br />
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It's situations like daycare that I wish I made more money so the Wifey could be a stay at home mom. Things would be a lot easier not having to worry who can get off in time or who can stay home when someone is sick. I just remember when my mom would watch my sister's kids while she worked and just how much easier it was for my sister and her family.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Uz3KzGPGra48K89yND5CoiNR4VvuMBAty99hlgPGwgtftS3YdQNgLFDkrG6KsPwMHlaZ-VwPxgp7tP2IxdN0L2qVg6rpP1Ps1ziPVxBQOgppttnoqnYjfRFdQu8yzAeJHwUC0tIdLio/s1600/photo+2+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Uz3KzGPGra48K89yND5CoiNR4VvuMBAty99hlgPGwgtftS3YdQNgLFDkrG6KsPwMHlaZ-VwPxgp7tP2IxdN0L2qVg6rpP1Ps1ziPVxBQOgppttnoqnYjfRFdQu8yzAeJHwUC0tIdLio/s1600/photo+2+(1).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
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Anyways, Baby really loves her baby sister. She never hesitates to give her a hug or talk to her; it's really not what we expected at all. One of the things we tried to instill with Baby was a sense of independence and to some degree that has backfired on us. Baby finds it necessary to take it to her own hands to change the diaper or burp Pillow. That sounds awesome but she can barely pick her up. I just worry that Pillow will end up getting dropped on her head.<br />
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We think the Baby enjoys her sister so much is because she actually has a real life baby doll to nurture. Baby has been pushing around a stroller with a baby doll in it everywhere and we'll even catch her putting on her doll's clothes on Pillow. It's a little annoying but it's much better than us catching her stuffing Pillow into the dryer.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-12795916887716901392014-07-29T14:08:00.004-05:002014-07-29T16:25:34.990-05:00A Glimpse Into My Future<div style="text-align: center;">
I can see this happening in our household. I can see it happening really soon.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107243376069300866.post-29951940033817545372014-07-22T12:56:00.002-05:002014-07-22T12:56:26.244-05:00Five Weeks LaterIt's been five weeks since I got another daughter. Like most newborns, it's been pretty uneventful. All Pillow does is eat, sleep, cry, fart, and spit up. I always ask the Wifey, "when does she start getting fun?" She is now finally getting more cognizant of how hilarious I am and beginning to smile. <br />
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Not to brag but I seem to be better at getting Pillow to sleep. The Wifey blames her boobs. It makes sense, who wants to sleep in their plate of food? Now that I think about it, who wouldn't want to sleep in a plate of food? I have a trick that seems to work to get Pillow to fall asleep. I lie her head down on my chest. That's it. Out like a light. But sometimes that doesn't work and Pillow seems to fall asleep really quickly if I play Sam Smith's album "In the Lonely Hour" on my iPhone and tuck it between our bodies.<br />
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Now the big question I get is, "how is the big sister handling it?" Amazingly, really well. We really didn't expect her to be so accommodating. She will make sure she hugs and kisses Pillow multiple times throughout the day. She will throw away diapers without asking, she very loudly alerts us when Pillow spits up by screaming, "EWWWWWWWW, she spit up...AGAIN!" She checks her diaper and will remind us that she's either crying because she's hungry or her diaper is full.<br />
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But she's also very sensitive about being corrected when she grabs Pillow's head or hugs her too tight. If you correct her, even very politely, she will run to her room and shut her door. I guess she's being protective and just wants to help.<br />
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Either way, we are impressed with the way she's been acting. She even took the initiative to sleep in her own bed. She still has her moments but we've gotten better at ignoring them.<br />
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