Pre-Christmas Resolutions

Well we’re about a week away from the year coming to a close, and since I will be traveling some the holiday, I’m not going to have time to update the blog. Because of this, I thought I would discuss my New Year’s resolution.

It comes as no surprise to many of you that I have packed on a few pounds this past year. About 472 to be exact, and that always has an effect on you. Despite the health implications, which I tend to woefully ignore, there is the physiological ramifications that really do a job on you. I guess this is why disorders such as anorexia hold such a powerful grip on people, because despite whatever reality is, if you don’t FEEL skinny, then you don’t feel good at all.

So this is where my resolution comes in. I can sit here and tell you how I’m going to lose 400 pounds, and exercise more, and eat healthier, but I’m looking for a paradigm shift, something that’s really going to change my life.

That’s why this year I’m resolving to start hanging around only with FAT people. I’m thinking if I start hanging around with people that are much heavier than I am, I’ll actually be the skinniest in the crowd, and thus my self esteem will skyrocket. This means of course that I’m going to have to stop seeing a lot of you. And if you happen to notice me coming around more and more … well, let’s just say “Thank You.”

So there you have it. A resolution that can really stick. I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and go back for thirds at the dinner table.

First Words

Looking back at the milestones in life, there are times you can’t help but get choked up on emotion. The precious accomplishments that make life joyful and the tearful agony that festers in the back of your mind reminding you quietly that this will never happen for the first time again.

I mentioned several weeks ago that the Little Man has been spouting out various things over the past few months such as “Dada”. I also mentioned that this word could mean everything from “I’m Hungry” to “I’m Sleepy” to “Look Father, there seems to be a puppy in the vicinity, might I reach over and pull his ears?” So, in short, although we’ve had several “words” come out of the Count’s mouth, we haven’t had anything verbalized that is truly associated with recognition about what he is saying.

All of this changed last night.

The wife and I have had a running debate on whether the first word will be “Momma” or “Dada”, I of course picking the former to keep me out of trouble. So as one of us enters the room, we listen intently to the Wee Man to see if we hear a recognizable word. I’m pretty sure he knows my name … it’s “phrapple!” … yeah, the wife didn’t buy that one either.

We were all sitting in the bathroom last night. Well, let me clarify, the wife and kid were taking a bath, and I was standing in the bathroom talking to them, and he said it. Yes, it was slightly reserved, but unmistakable. We were hoping he would repeat it, and he did. He looked, he saw, he spoke. Over and Over. Perfectly clear. There could be no doubt.

He said, “Tisk, tisk tisk.”

Now you’re asking yourself, “What the heck does that mean? It’s not even a word.” But alas, it is.

He has heard his dad say it over and over. Almost PERFECT in its repetition. He recognized exactly what he was doing, and executed it flawlessly. It’s the sound you make when you press your tongue to the top of your mouth and suck in air.

He was calling the dog.

And the dog came. And it would walk away, so he would call it back, and it would come. This happened over the course of several minutes. Dog walks away, kid calls it back.

So it’s official. The kid’s first words are in the history books, not Momma, not Dada, but rather, “Here Doggy Doggy Doggy.” At least he’s got his priorities straight.

All I want fo Christmas ...

Well it’s that time of year again. No, not bath time for me, but rather the holiday season. It’s the season where women everywhere exchange thoughtful beautifully wrapped gifts and where men either give those women something truly horrific, or if they’ve got some cash, the cheapest piece of jewelry that they can afford in order to get out of the store with the least possible effort.

My wife is a saint. She spends the entire year scouting stores, looking for Christmas presents that she thinks might fit someone perfectly. While I’m foolishly scrounging around on the department store floor looking for the latest publication from Mad Magazine in April, she’s picking up a cookbook for a dinner recipe, changing the kid, and finding the precious plate holder that Aunt Martha has been wanting for 2 years.

I have quite a bit of difficulty remembering what I ate for breakfast (Cheerios thank you, no that was yesterday, wait …) the Wife can remember that her mother-in-law mentioned she wanted a red scarf last February on a commercial break during America’s Funniest Home Video’s. So far she has bought gifts for her family, gifts for my family, gifts for her co-workers and my co-workers (half of which she’s never met), gifts for the neighbors, gifts for friends, and at least 4 gifts for people we don’t know yet.

I have one gift to buy, hers. And you know what, if it was up to me, I would probably be trying to talk her into a riding lawn mower. “Aww, Cm’on Baby, you know how you always said you would LOVE to cut the grass if you had a riding lawn mower? This’ll be FUN!” I mean, I would probably pour it on thick, “And LOOK, it’s on SALE!” Thankfully I have the perfect wife who not only buys for every living being on the planet, but also drops hints to me as well. And by “hint” I mean this is how the conversation would go.

“Hey Darling Husband” shut up, she does SO call me that, “I want a cow bell for Christmas”

AND before you say I’m ridiculous, yes, this is a request. Go look at Pottery Barn, they’ve got ‘em … so SHUT UP. But let me continue.

“ I want a cow bell for Christmas.”
Showing me a catalog “Here’s a picture of the cow bell I want”
Handing me a piece of paper “Here’s a coupon for 25% off all cow bell’s”
Pointing across the parking lot “There’s where they sell the cow bell, they have 4 in stock, go ahead and buy it and I’ll wait here until you get back.”

That’s how I get hints for Christmas presents. Isn’t that the BEST hint EVER?!

And if you ladies say, “But she doesn’t get any surprises!” I say:

1. She doesn’t like surprises, I dare say she HATES them.
2. Is it really a good idea for you ladies to be “surprised” with a riding lawn mower under the Christmas tree?

Can I Borrow Some Sleep

I lied last time. I said I had a few minutes and started typing - then the sky started falling, don't you hate that.

So the Count's cutting his first tooth. Almost a year old and finally getting a tooth ... he must have his Dad's affinity for not procrastinating. But he's making up for it the past couple of days. Three days ago if you put anything in his food that had more texture to it than a slurpee, the kid would gag. But apparently the last two days he's been chomping down on anything he can get his hands on ... and I was sure I left a meatball sub in the fridge.

I am told this because the wife informs me that she went to our favorite restaurant (a little Amish restaurant that's just open for lunch Mon - Fri) and he chowed down on potatoes and biscuits. Sounds perfect doesn't it, stay awake all night with a fussy kid, get up early and go to work. Have a two day old egg salad sandwich from the cafeteria (or as I refer to it Death by Lunch) while the wife calls you as she's enjoying homemade coconut pie (and no, I don't care who your grandmother was, she doesn't hold a candle to these Amish ladies) and let the wife tell you all the wonderful milestones you are missing.

I think I'm going to start pulling random bulbs out of her 5 Christmas Trees just for that ... and yes I said 5.

It goes by quick

Here's a quick recap of the last few weeks, since I have a moment.



It's COLD. OK, so it's not Michigan cold, but we're technically in the "South" here, so for me, it's COLD. The temp is hovering in the teens to single digits and the day before yesterday the clouds were freezing and falling to the ground. Seriously. It wasn't snowing because there wasn't enough clouds in the sky to produce shade, the dang things were just giving up and falling to the ground hoping to find some heat.



Fact - Bulldogs can cause a ruckus when they're left inside all day long and want to get out and play.

Fact - The aforementioned, It's COLD out there.

Fact - Bulldogs shut up pretty quickly when you throw them outside in the cold for about ten minutes then let them back inside.



The kid's getting his first tooth .... and no one is getting any sleep!

Fun Stuff

The count has a range of emotions as all kids do, but they are typically subject to wide interpretation. For example, a scream can mean "I'm HAPPY!" or it can mean "I'm TICKED!". Spontaneously shouting "Dada!" can mean "Dad's Here" or it can mean "Look, There's a Puppy!"

I have long since given up trying to judge what the kid says.

One thing however that has remained consistent is the clap. The clap means I'm EXCITED about whatever it is I see - period.

I walked in the living room last night to see my kid start clapping. I was getting rather emotional until I saw what he was clapping at. It was obviously not me, but rather the kid was staring at the television and a commercial for the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show.

Lights, Glitter, and Boobies. What isn't there to get excited about? I was so proud of him.

So tonight we're both going to sit on the floor and watch the Vicky's Secret show and clap at the TV!