Regular Life

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on. – Robert Frost

Browsing Posts published in November, 2006


Ben and I enjoy a goofy moment. Note the sneaky tickle.

My wife and I enjoyed almost 11 years of marriage as a childless couple. Our wait was born of some circumstances beyond our control, but mostly it was that neither of us felt ready to take the plunge into parenthood.

We watched friends have kids, made friends with people who already had kids, and made mental note of parenting techniques we would avoid once we had kids.

The main problem we saw was plain laziness. If you’re not willing to get up and walk across a room to redirect a child’s attention from something he or she should not touch, or, God forbid, physically relocate the child, then you probably shouldn’t sign up for this job. Warning a child two or three times and then giving up will not work, and puts him or her squarely in charge of the household. It’s the parents’ (or parent’s) job to meet the child’s needs. Satisfying every want, whether through action or inaction, relinquishes what little control the parents have, and unfairly puts major decisions in the child’s hands.

Also, when a two-year-old’s most skillful motor movement is ejecting a VCR tape and inserting the next one, there’s a problem.

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About the only things I collect are turtles. Or, rather, inanimate representations of them. I don’t know exactly when it started, but I suspect it was when as a teenager I accidentally drove over a turtle and heard the crunch. Family and friends over the years have grabbed unique turtles for me when out of state and out of the country. I have wooden turtles, stone turtles, and turtles stuffed with foam or foam pellets. I have a multicolor turtle candle handmade by a girl I worked with in college.

My inclination toward collecting reptiles among the oldest on Earth led me to learn more about another hobby than I ever thought I could, and perhaps more than I should.

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Some of you have read my fiction and/or nonfiction. You may ask why I write. I like this quote, found on a local friend’s blog:

You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.
Ray Bradbury

Reading is a great escape, but writing is better. For me, Bradbury’s quote is spot on.

Here and now, however, I want to plug the freely available works of a man who, if there is any justice in this increasingly screwed-up world, soon will require no introduction. He’s a working stiff who happens to write as a hobby.

The thing is… he does it very well.

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Our new dog, Cassie.

Remember when we got a puppy, and that only lasted two nights? You don’t? Well, now you know.

After a few days to mull things over, I told Shannon that what I really wanted was another cocker spaniel. Lexie had made us fall in love not only with her, but with the entire breed. They’re pretty, personable, and despite some well-known health problems (ears and eyes), doggoned if they aren’t great pets.

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With Shannon’s fever reaching about 101.5 Wednesday and our packing delayed until I got home from work, we got out of the house at 7 p.m. Arriving at 2 a.m. was not our idea of a good time.

My brother, Charles, has lots of points with a certain national motel chain and volunteered to donate some of them to our cause. Instead of arriving the night before, sleeping in my childhood bedroom, and then waking to the smell of Dad’s turkey, we would sleep in a borrowed bed and scarf down a continental breakfast before heading off to see the family. No talking over breakfast while the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade blasted from Mom and Dad’s living room TV.

Still, Charles’ offer was too good to refuse, and only one thing made it less than perfect.

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I sit next to Ben, his head on my shoulder, as a show called “Wonder Pets” blares from our television. They just freed a young unicorn whose horn was stuck in a tree. A dragon chased them down, but instead of broiling them, he thanked them for saving his friend.

This is a show whose three lead characters — a guinea pig, a turtle, and a duckling, routinely use their combined brains to help an animal in distress. They frequently break out into song, usually to well-known classical tunes, as their crudely animated bodies (based on photographs) perform heroic tasks — all the while repeating their grating mantra, “What’s gonna work? Teeeeamwork!”

One of these episodes includes helping a puppy go outside to pee. What the heck?

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Being a good parent is about being there. Being a father is not a state of being. It’s an activity. It’s a verb, not a noun.
– Michael Kimmel, author, The Gendered Society

Any father who strives to be a good dad should see the truth in this quote.

I try to make sure I’m a big part of Ben’s life. I usually see him before I leave for work, and he greets me at the door when I get home. And I used to think having a dog greet me was a great feeling. Seeing him run in place trying to contain his excitement as he smiles up at me is priceless. “Daddy, do you want to come in my room and play?” is his usual greeting.

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I had a post about fatherhood all set to go, but when I read my friend Emily’s bulletin on MySpace, I decided that I had to participate. She’s an old friend from high school, so I’m doing this in honor of my Friendships post earlier in the week. The bass player in a rock band, she would be the one to post this.

I’m posting it (relatively) early so everyone will have lots of time to get it done. Do as many as you can. This probably tells more about me than any long-winded post could.

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This eye looks with love,
This eye looks with judgment.
Free me, take the sight out of this eye.
– Edie Brickell, This Eye

A girl, about 16, burst into the waiting room from an interior door, wearing brightly colored polka-dot pants that looked like pajamas. Her hair was part blonde, part pink. She walked quickly to a fussy woman who looked ready for a night on the town. Between sobs, the girl said, “They left me all alone in a dark room where I couldn’t see anything.” Everybody else remained quiet, seemingly trying to take it all in. What else is there to pay attention to at 5 a.m.?

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Sometimes Ben utters phrases that amaze me. Other times, he spews gibberish, often in an effort to be funny. Sometimes it sounds like Klingon, which is funny on more than one level because he’s never seen Star Trek. Some of the more befuddling sentences I think he gets from a show he watches here or there. I know because I’ve heard characters use them.

I recently reflected back on some of those examples and some from real life. I also managed to grab a couple of sound clips.

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