Like a caged monkey......

They say that revenge is a dish best served cold. I disagree. I say revenge is a dish best served luke warm. And staying with the theme of using old adages, I also believe in 'eye for an eye'. I've already got my revenge planned out. On June 28th, 2036, I'm going to over to Jaxon's house, poop into a diaper, and throw it on his floor......



Yesterday morning, when I went to get him out of his bed, I opened the door, and there he is standing in his crib, butt naked, smile on his face, 'I poo poo, daa-yee. I poo poo in diaper, daa-yee. I throw it. I throw diaper, daa-yee.'



In hindsight, I remember that as I was walking down the hall toward his room, I thought to myself, 'Uh-Oh, he must have pooped.' Because it stunk all the way down the hall. It wasn't until I got into the room did I get the full appreciation of stankness. I imagine that my reaction was similar to the cops who arrived first at the scene of the Manson murders. Just an overwhelming combination of shock, disgust, and confusion. Why? How? What kind of a person could......? And then there he was, asking for chocolate milk.



Maybe because he looked so cute standing in his crib. Maybe because I could see the humor in the situation. Or maybe I was just blinded by the incredibly foul stench in the room. But I couldn't get mad at him. Not right then. And so I cleaned up the poop, got him out of his crib, cleaned him up, and brought him downstairs to get some chocolate milk. And that's when I started devising my plan. One day, I'm going to poop on his floor. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. Maybe he'll have a family of his own by the time Saturday, June 28th, 2036 rolls around. (That's right, I checked to see what day it would be. I'm leaving nothing to chance in this plan.) Maybe I'll stop by to visit him and the family on a Saturday afternoon, and then right before I leave, when he goes to kiss his mom goodbye, I'll take a big ol dump in his living room. Then I'll have my revenge. But for now, I'm going to go figure out some more ways to ruin his teenage years.

I wonder what hand he throws poop with?

All-Star Drama

(Just so you know, this post took me two days to do. It started Friday night, and ran into Saturday afternoon. You understand.)









Wow. Just wow. I'm completely exhausted, and I didn't even do anything. We're in the middle of our state all-star tournament for Tori's softball team. Tori made the all-star team, (of course, why wouldn't she?) and a couple of the coaches from the rec-league, including myself are coaching the all-star team. We won our first game of the double elimination tournament last night 9-4. The game was closer than it sounds, though, since we put up 4 runs in the bottom of the fifth inning. (These games only go six innings, by the way.) Tori played really well. She earned a spot at second base a couple weeks ago, and she ain't letting go of the position. She had about 5 or 6 balls hit to her last night and gobbled them all up. She even had a play where the runner on first was stealing, the catcher's throw was in the dirt, the shortstop missed it, and Tori scooped up the ball from behind second base and tagged the runner out as the she turned toward third after she saw the ball get past the shortstop. That ended the inning.







Anyway, back to the game tonight. Whoever won the game tonight earned a spot in the championship game tomorrow morning. And whoever lost the game had to play another game tonight, and another game early tomorrow morning to work their way out of the loser's bracket to make it to the championship. So needless to say, we really wanted to win this game. We won the coin toss (that's right, there's a coin toss to determine Home and Visitor. C'mon, work with me, it's 12 year old girl's softball.), and Yay! We're the home team. Since our ace pitcher pitched the game last night, we had our number 2 pitcher, Fallon, on the mound tonight. (I guess it's not technically called a mound in softball. They call it a 'circle' since there's no pile of dirt.) Fallon weighs about 37 pounds when she's holding 20 pound dumbells in each hand. I'm serious. I'm surprised she hasn't floated away. Okay, maybe not that light, but let's just say she's not a power pitcher. But what she lacks in speed, she makes up for in location. Man, she was on point tonight. She was making girls hit ground balls and pop ups all night long. But when you do that, you've got to have a defense behind you to make plays. And our defense is a bit streaky. Some games, we're lights out, but some games, we shoot ourselves in the foot with untimely errors. Well that didn't happen tonight. We were making diving catches, tagging runners out, and making all of the plays that we were supposed to make. It's just too bad we couldn't hit the ball. We got a few runners on, even had bases loaded once, but we couldn't get anyone in. In unprecedented 12 year old fashion, we took a 0-0 tie into the top of the 4th inning. The first batter hit a line drive on the first pitch into the gap for a double. Uh-Oh. Second batter moved the runner to third on a ground out to Tori. At this point, we pull Fallon, put our ace Kasie back in, and hope for the best. The runner ends up scoring on another ground out, then Kasie struck out the next batter to end the inning. Down 1-0. The score stays 1-0 all the way into the bottom of the 6th inning. Our first batter strikes out, then Tori comes up to bat. She goes down in the count 0-2. Oh boy. Then she fouls off a pitch. Still 0-2. Takes on a ball in the dirt. 1-2. Fouls off two more pitches. Still 1-2. Ball outside, 2-2. Ball in the dirt 3-2. Then she proceeds to foul off 3 more pitches before she takes ball 4. By this time I had chewed off my entire left pinky because of nerves. 1 out, runner on first. Coach gives the steal sign. At this point their catcher had thrown out 3 girls at second already. Not Tori; she beats the throw. Now I'm down to 8 fingers. Next batter, first pitch, passed ball, Tori takes third base. Now we've got life. Pitcher beans the batter on the next pitch. Then she takes second base trying to get the catcher to throw down to second so Tori could go, but no dice. Second and third, 1 out. Big hitter up; intentional walk. Bases loaded, 1 out. First pitch on the next batter, pitcher throws one in the dirt, gets by the catcher, Tori takes off. I've eaten my left hand by now. Aaaaaannnnnnnnndddddddd ssssssshhhhhhheeeee's SAAAAAAAFFFFEEEEE, SAAAAAAAFFFFEEEEE. (I kept picturing the ump from Major League at the end when Wesley Snipes slid into home. You know, the guy with the killer mustache. Man I loved that mustache.) Through all of that, the runners advanced. Next batter hits a shot to the shortstop. She fields it cleanly, but not enough time to catch the runner at home. Thank You Jesus! We get to go home! It was already 9:00 after this game, and now the other team had to play again to make it to tomorrow's game.







(Quick note: I didn't have time to finish this post Friday night, so here's what happened on Saturday. And here's a picture of Tori and Kayli after the game. Kayli spent the night over after the game.)















So we find out Saturday morning that the team that we beat Friday night won the late game, so we had to play them again. If we beat them in the first game, we're State Champs. If not, we've got to play another game. We had to get to the field at 8:00 am, and by that time it was already about 80º. Gonna be a hot one.

As good as the game was the night before, this one was that bad. We go down 4-0 in the first inning due to a number of errors, untimely walks, etc. Just ugly. We did manage to rack up 5 runs in the 3rd inning to take the lead, but the girls just didn't have it. We gave up 6 runs in the top of the fourth on more walks, more fielding errors, more bad throws, bad decisions; basically anything that could go wrong did. We cut the lead to 10-7 in the bottom of the 5th, but the wheels fell off in the top of the sixth. We went through 3 pitchers and gave up 14 runs. Yep. 14. Not good. What made it even worse was the fact that the inning took over an hour to play, and by this point in the day it was over 100º. The girls were just gassed. Mentally and physically gassed. 21-7. Hey, we only lost by two touchdowns.

To make matters worse, we get a 15 minute break before the next game starts. Now we've got girls crying, girls tired, girls angry. Not a good sign. Before and after each game, the coaches give a little bit of a pep talk to the team. And when it comes to motivating 12 year old girls, I'm about as useful as buying a vowel on a Russian version of Wheel of Fortune. (You didn't think I'd be able to work in a useful joke, did you? You underestimate my retardedness.) I can give the girls instructions, tips, advice, comic relief. I can even some encouragement throughout the game now and then, but firing them up to get ready to play a game after they've been out in 100º heat for 4 hours and just got shilacked by the team that they're about to play again.......Not so much.

Surprisingly, we come out swinging. Tori leads off the top of the first with another walk, and we end up putting up 2 quick runs. Kasie starts us off with 4 straight scoreless innings. Defense is ballin. We can't even sniff the plate on offense though. A couple of errors allow them to score two in the bottom of the fifth. Crap. No scores in the 6th. We go to extras. Get out of a jam in the seventh with some nice defensive plays, and go the the eighth. We get a run in the top of the eighth after a Kasie triple to go up 3-2. Fallon comes back in to pitch the bottom of the eighth, strikes out two and gets a pop-up to left field. State Champs. Finally! After 6 hours in the heat, the girls pulled it off. They fought and fought and fought all the way through. I get to say I'm a State Championship coach, but the truth is that I didn't really do a whole heck of a lot. Except maybe chew up my fingers. I'm so proud of them. It was awesome.

Here's Tori with the state championship trophy:

When we got home, I wanted to go workout, but I was just soooooo tired from being outside all day long. I had a headache, I stank, just not good workout conditions. Reluctantly, I got my butt off the couch and went to the gym. While I was there, I was struggling. I know it sounds silly, but I kept thinking to myself that if those girls could play all day in the heat like that, then I could do another set. I have a feeling that it won't be the last time that I use this experience as inspiration, either. But for now I'm gonna go take a nap.

A Couple of Quick Stories

Since we've only got two kids right now, I'm only about 40% as interesting as normal. So here's a couple of funny stories that happened yesterday.







I've got to wear three different badges for work. Don't ask me why. But they all three have my picture on them. Yesterday, Jaxon was messing around with them, looked at the first one, and said, 'Daa-yee. Daa-yee. Daa-yee. Daa-yee.' And by the way, he really does repeat himself 4,000 times. He's like freakin Rain Man:







Jax: I runnin, Daa-yee.







Me: Oh, you're running?







Jax: Yes, I runnin. Daa-yee, I runnin.







Me: You running?







Jax: (Looking down, mumbling) Yes, definitely runnin, definitely runnin.







Alright, maybe not that last part, but let's just say that he's a repeater.







Anyway, so he looks at the first badge and says, 'Dah-yee?'







So I say, 'Yeah, that's Daddy.







(Then I show him the second badge) 'And who's this?'







'Jeff'







Then I show him the third one, 'And who's this?'







'Uncle Bee-Yo.' So there you go. B-Lo, he won't be forgetting what you look like anytime soon.

I don't see the resemblance

Then later on, Rach and Jax were playing in the backyard. Jax was swimming in his big mack-daddy inflatable pool while Rach was doing yard work. At one point, she looks over, and there's Jaxon squatting in the grass, bathing suit completely off, smiling, and says, 'I poo in grass, Mommy! I poo in grass!' And sure enough, big ol steaming pile of crap in the yard. Man, that boy knows how to make me proud. It's been years since I've been able to pull off a stunt like that. (That was the funny part, the gross part was when Izzy came behind him and ate it. Which also prompted the phrase, 'Dogs eating poop' to be found in Racheal's Google search history. Seriously, I could write about that search history for days. It's incredible.)

Pre-Fertilizer?

After softball practice last night, Tori and I went to Lowe's, then we went to pick up something to eat from Chik-Fil-A. After we get our food, and we're driving away, Tori says, 'That lady was flirting with you.'







Me: (acting oblivious. And yes, for once I was acting) What? No she wasn't.







Tori: Yes she was. I can tell. All girls flirt with you. Any girl that we see that we don't know always flirts with you.







Me: Well, that's not my fault. But if it gets me an extra order of french fries every now and then......







Tori: That's okay, guys are always flirting with Nanny, too.







Me: What!??? That's just wrong.







And finally, one last thing. I don't think I'm wrong when I say that all old people eventually go crazy, right? Well I've always wondered if it was a gradual change, or a sudden change. I'm sure there's usually an instance when others can point to and say, 'Yep. That's when such and such went crazy.' Well my parents are pretty young. But my brother and I have already decided that they'll probably come live with me and Rach when they get old and senile. Maybe that'll be 30 years from now, maybe it'll be 30 days from now. Who knows? But I do know this: When they get old and crazy, I'll be able to look back on this moment, and know for a fact that this was what started their fade into insanity.

Yep. That's my parents; posing with their grandson; and their dog; wearing a slightly small cowboy hat. Enough said.

It's a Win, Win, Win!!

I've made it no secret that those hacks, Jon and Kate, are my arch nemesises. (nemisi? nemises? nemiseses? Whatever the plural form of nemesis is, that's what they are) I say this because they've been making something like $70,000 per episode, and they are significantly less attractive and less interesting than Me, Rach, and the kids. I don't mean that to sound arrogant or cocky, but it's true. We're better than them. So they 'shocked' everyone last night by announcing that they'll be filing for a divorce. Awwwww. But it's okay, I've come up with a way to make everyone happy....and rich! Kate wants to stay on TV to maintain her level of income that she's grown accustomed to, and Jon doesn't want to because he can't stand Kate. So here's the brilliant solution; We give them a reality show where Jon takes four kids, and Kate takes four kids, and we pit them against each other in a duel type challenge. Jon and Kate are the 'captains' of their respective teams. We have kid draft, flip a coin to see who has first pick, then set them up in ridiculous parenting challenges. Maybe a peanut butter and jelly sandwich challenge, or see who can get their kids to clean their rooms the fastest, or maybe a minivan challenge to see who can get each of their kids to their respective practices in the least amount of time. The possibilities are endless! And we make it so only the winning team gets any money, so Jon would definitely be on board because he'd stand in the way of Kate's fortune. And I get a producer credit on the show, so I get to make money off of them too! It's brilliant. It may need some tweaking, but the concept is dead on. I thought of all this on my ten minute drive to work this morning.








Okay, on to serious business........

King Jaxon Has Returned!!

This boy is a mess. An absolute mess. Maxine came back with Jax and Tori last night at about 8 o'clock, and I don't think he's stopped talking since. His mouth never stops. 'Sit down, daddy? Lay down, daddy? Stand up daddy? Lay down, Izzy! Izzy, lay down!! Upstairs, daddy? Take a bath, daddy? Toys, daddy? Can I watch wiggles, daddy?' Seriously, just rapid fire questions with no real chance to answer.





I'm glad he had fun at his Mimi and Papa's, but you can tell he spent the last week leading them around by their reigns like a pair of horses. Just completely spoiled, which is okay I guess. And speaking of horses.......





I'm sure I've mentioned that my dad is a little crazy. Not like super duper crazy, just a little bit crazy. Like washes his clothes in a crawfish pot 24 hours after hurricane Katrina crazy. (I asked him why he was washing his clothes on the propane burner, and he says,'Gotta have clean clothes.' It was 24 hours after the storm. He didn't have a change of clothes that was clean?) Anyway, he calls me up the other night and says in his serious deep voice:



Dad: Hey son.



Me: What's going on, Pops? (long pause)



Dad: I've got a question for you. (another long pause)



Me: Um, alright, shoot...



Dad: (another really long pause like he was about to ask me to donate him a kidney) I've got an opportunity to put Jaxon on a horse. What do you think about that?



Me: (utterly confused) Wait, what? Like a real horse?



Dad: Yeah like a real horse.



Me: Where will you be?



Dad: I'll be right there with him.



Me: I mean, you'll be watching him, right? You'll be there though?



Dad: Yeah I'll be there. I won't let anything happen to him, I just wanted to run it by you first.



Me: Um, okay. (still kind of confused) Yeah, Go ahead and put him on a horse.......




And he did. He did put him on a horse........

Happy Father's Day to Me

It's Father's Day, and I have no kids here. Ironic, isn't it? Almost like a black fly in your chardonnay. Or even a death row pardon two minutes too late. Don't you think? (Okay, I'm done with Alanis Morrisette....for know) But seriously, I spend my days and nights caring for 5 kids, it's the one day that Hallmark says is 'Father's Day', and I'm here picking dust balls off of Izzy. But only a small part of me wants to sit here and feel sorry for myself. You see, I'm strong enough and smart enough to realize that these sort of things happen. Situations and circumstances always pop up to where you never get to spend as much time with your kids as you'd like. Whether it's going out of town for work, or missing one kids game because you're at another one's practice, or sending them to Louisiana to spend some much needed time with their grandparents. Etc, etc. Or maybe you miss out on your kids games because you work every weekend for 25 years straight, and you come home smelling like seafood at night, working a job that you hate so that your kids can play those sports and have those opportunities. I realize that these things happen because my dad taught me that. And you know what else he taught me? He taught me that it's not about me. And it's never gonna be about me. He taught me that the kids come first, no matter what. And that his wife comes a close second. No questions asked. He taught me that even when your wife is dead wrong, (not that you're ever wrong, Rach. I'm just sayin.....) do what she says anyway. Life will be easier, and you'll be much happier. He taught me that alcohol was no match for the love he had for us. That the genetically passed on disease stopped at him. He taught me how to stand by your kids when they're making bad decisions; getting arrested, drinking too much, making bad decisions. They'll eventually they'll come around. Just show them that you'll always be there. He taught me that you lead by your actions, not just your words. Be an example. He even taught me that it's okay not to be perfect, but you don't try for anything less. He taught me to the importance of being nice to people. To everyone. Not just the people that you like, or the people that can do something for you, but everyone. Treat people the way that you want to be treated. He taught me all of these things, and he's still teaching. Because one day when I'm a grandparent, I'll be learning grandparent skills from the way that he's doing things now. Yep, it's Father's Day, and I have no kids here today. But it's okay, the kids are all spending time with their grandparents, and they're all having fun. Besides, I've got the rest of my life to be there for them, and to teach them all the things that my dad has taught me. And by living off of his example, it's not about me anyway.





Thanks Dad. I love you.

Gardening - Reloaded......

I mentioned in the last post that we went to go check out our friends Wayne and Steve's nursery. Now flowers and plants aren't exactly my thing, but I have to say that it was very impressive. 700 acres of greenhouses, giant rows of trees, thousands of rows of flowers; it was huge. They even have two giant lakes that they use for irrigation that have HUGE alligators in them. We must have seen 15 gators spread out in the lakes. Steve was driving us around, showing us all of the different things that they grow there, and anytime Rach saw something she liked, Wayne would jump out and throw it in the back of the truck. Anything she wanted, they just gave it to us.





At the time, all I had going through my head was, 'Wow! This is really too nice of them. They shouldn't do this. This is too much. Rach is gonna be in hog heaven with all of these plants.'





What I SHOULD'VE been thinking was, 'These bastards! Who do they think is going to have to plant all of these? Holes don't dig themselves, you know!'





Well it's been raining here every evening, and Rach has had to work, so by yesterday afternoon, all 9,000 (may be a slight exaggeration, but work with me here) plants were still sitting on the porch. Since Rach was off yesterday,I went home for lunch and we had a nice time together. Good quality time. I went back to work, got off around 4:30, and came home.



Quick side note: Up until about 3 months ago, I played basketball every Wednesday afternoon, and every Saturday morning. Those were my basketball times. About 3 months ago during one of the games, I landed awkwardly and felt my knee pop. I've already had reconstructive surgery on both knees, so another operation and I'd be done. Permanently. So I decided to shut it down for awhile. I've been rehabbing it on my own, doing squats, lunges, cleans, jerks, plyometrics; you name it, and I've done it. I've probably been okay to play for about the past month, but since we've been so busy with the kids, I just kind of forgot about it. Well this past Saturday I decided to give it a go. I played about 6 games, and it felt great. Didn't really hurt Sunday, so I went and played again. And now I've got the itch back. (The basketball itch, all you friends from back home can stop giggling) Anyway, I really wanted to play yesterday afternoon when I got home.





As I pulled into the driveway, I saw Racheal standing outside holding a shovel....Aww, Crap!! This is at about 4:30, and games usually go on from 5:00 to anywhere between 7:00 and 8:00. So I immediately think to myself, 'Alright Jeff, this is gonna take some work, but we can do this. We're gonna have to play this absolutely perfectly if we're gonna have a shot at this. We don't want to mention it right away, but we don't want to wait too long, either. We can't be too anxious to get out of here because that'll piss her off, but we don't want to make it seem like we're too comfortable because she'll make it last all night. Just stay focused, and we'll make it out onto that court.' (Seriously, all of this went through my head in a matter of seconds like I was about to navigate a mine field.)





So I get out, smile on my face, 'Hey sweetie, I'll go change my clothes.' (Oh crap, I think she can see right through me! Gotta tone down the niceness.) I come outside and she points out to me where three of the plants are going to go. I quickly dig the necessary holes. Perfect sized holes. Beautiful holes. Never seen better plant holes than these. We put the soil down, mix it together, straighten the plant, pat the soil, mix it some more, fill it in - Uggh! Just throw the plant in my perfectly dug hole and let's move on!! I didn't say that, just thought it; on the outside I was as cool as a cucumber.





Okay, those holes are done. Where do you want the next one? Crap, she's on the phone. Don't interrupt her. Don't want to make it seem like we're rushing. She'll be all over that. (fake loud whispering while pointing at the shovel) 'Where do you want the next hole?' Nothing. Still talking. I've got to sit through 4 "Alright, I'm out in the yard planting stuff, I'm gonna have to call you back"s before she finally gets off the phone. She was trying, just couldn't get off the phone. Anyway, I dig four more holes, then I catch a break. My neighbor, Shannon, who also plays basketball with us on Wednesday nights, was pulling out of the driveway when he saw me in the yard with a shovel. He drives over, rolls down his window, and makes fun of me for not being able to go play. He makes jokes, asks Rach if I can join him at his (fake quotes) "Men's Group Meeting" that he was attending at World Fitness, to which Rach just laughs and motions to get back to work. Nice. The seed has been planted. Now we just gotta let it grow. (Sorry to make a plant metaphor in my story about plants. It's all I got.)





Now we're having trouble figuring out where the flowers should go. 'Should I put the Hydrangeas over here, or do you think the lace-stem Shtufflebottoms should go there?' (I doubt that Shtufflebottoms are real, but to me, it's all the same) And when it comes to making decisions about plant placement, I'm about as useful as a one-legged man in a butt kicking contest. (Yes, I'm retarded) So now we get Shannon's wife to come outside and help figure out where to put the rest of the flowers. After much discussion, they figure it out. As I'm digging the newly decided holes, (which were great holes by the way) Tori comes up to me and we have this conversation:





Tori: (whispering) Hey. I'm coming with you.





Me: (Confused, Not knowing how she knew that I was planning my escape) What?





Tori: (still whispering) I'm gonna tell her that I'm coming with you to hit softballs in the batting cage.





Me: (getting flustered) Hey, you're gonna have to broker your own deal! Don't ruin this for me! You're on your own.





Tori: Take me with you!





Me: I'll see what I can do, but I'm not promising anything....





After finishing up the next batch of holes, I see my opportunity. I've got one chance, gotta phrase it correctly, 'Hey baby, I'm done with those holes. You got anymore, because if not, I was gonna go play basketball.'





Rach: (Confused) Wait, you were serious about that?





Me: Yeah, why?





Rach: I thought you weren't ever playing again. You said you retired from basketball.





Me: No, that was just because I hurt my knee. It's all better now. It doesn't hurt anymore.





Rach: Aww, that sucks. (Yeah, that's right. That's what she said.)



Then for about 7 seconds, I stood there, frozen, like a guy standing face to face with a 12 foot grizzly bear. Knowing that at any time the bear could eat him or slash his throat or do something else really gruesome that grizzly bears do to humans, but he just stands there and waits for the bear to make its move.





And Then.......'Alright, you can go, just do one more thing for me.'





Success!! I don't even remember what that one more thing was, I just know that I did it quickly. So I run upstairs, grab my stuff, and go get in the truck. Tori sneaks by, and hops in the truck too, seemingly unnoticed. Just as I'm pulling out of the driveway, I glance over and see Racheal pointing at the truck. I roll down the window and, 'Ehh-Uhh, you can go, but she stays.' I look at Tori and tell her, 'I told you that you were on your own- ' Then Tori called out, 'I'm going to hit softballs!' Then we both get the evil eye, one eyebrow up, lips pursed.... I had half a mind to reach over, open the passenger door, and feed Tori to the gardening wolves, but I just couldn't leave a man behind. And besides, I was already in the truck. What could she possibly do to me at this point? So I yell out the window, 'Love you baby! We'll be back!' As I drive off.





Ahhh, sweet success. We go to the gym, I get to play about 5 good games; good sweat, good runs, no complaints. Other than tired, tired legs. I get home, eager to help out since I got to play basketball, and I got to find out the answer to the 'What could she possibly do to me at this point?' question. The answer is that she can make you stay outside, hanging lattice on fences, lighting tiki torches, installing hooks on the porch for hanging baskets of god knows what, etc, etc, etc. All the way until it got dark. Not just a little dark, I mean dark. Like 9:45 dark.





So just when I thought I was getting one over on her, by using every ounce of manipulation and guile that I could muster up; planning, acting, reacting -- I realize that she was once again working me over like a freakin marionette. She is one beautiful evil genius. When do the kids get home again?

More Dancing.......And Less Kids!!

I've gotten some pretty good guesses regarding the wardrobe items that we were not required to buy. Unfortunately, only one person was able to muster up one of the two items that was not on the list. So congratulations B-Lo, enjoy you're 6 month free subscription. Here are some of the other videos, so maybe after seeing these, the answers will be a little more clear. Both of these were pretty hysterical to watch. And I still haven't gotten around to getting the software to convert the entire videos. It looks like the battle between laziness and cheapness might turn into The Hundred Years War.







Also, I apologize in advance, but I'm a whole lot less interesting with 80% less kids running around the house. We shipped Cole, Gavin, Scarlett, and Jax back home to Louisiana for some much needed grandparent time. Tori couldn't go yet because she's got softball tournaments every weekend from now until 2037. Normally, when we make the kid exchange, I make the trip myself since Rach works on the weekends. Well this time, since I was in Colorado, and Rach was off of work on Tuesday, she drove half way to meet my dad outside of Atlanta. From what I hear, the first leg of the trip went without a hitch, and Rach and Tori headed back to lovely South Carolina.







Quick side note: Together as a family, we've made the drive back and forth to Louisiana roughly 6,000 times since we moved here 4 years ago. 5,999 of those times I drove the whole way while my beautiful wife caught up on her beauty rest. The other time we were heading back to Charleston on a Sunday morning after a wedding that we stayed out until about 4 am the night before. Rach offered to drive first so that I could sleep a little bit, and be rested for the rest of the way home. She's so sweet. Well, I immediately conked out. That's actually one of the things I take pride in: Being able to instantly fall asleep regardless of where I am. It's the little things. Anyway, I woke up from a deep sleep to the sound of, 'WWWWWOOMMMMM, WWWWOOMMMMMMM, WOMMMMM!!!' And quickly realized that Rach was swerving off the side of the road. I looked over at her, and she says, 'I can't do this, you're gonna have to drive.' At this point, I wasn't sure how long I'd been sleeping, so I thought, 'Alright, I can do this.' Then I look up to see a sign that read, 'GULFPORT - 9 mi' Apparently, I had been sleeping for 13 minutes.







Back to the story. I get off of the the first leg of my plane ride home in Houston at around 8:30 pm. At this point, Rach should be getting close to home. I call her to see where she was, and........wait for it..........not yet..........a little longer.............Yep!! You guessed it!! Florence, South Carolina! Only 2 hours north of Charleston! And for the geographically challenged, Atlanta is a bit Southwest of Charleston. It's an honest mistake though. Could've happened to anyone. It's not like we've got built in GPS applications on our iphones.....Oh, wait.....nevermind. Okay, I'm done making fun. Besides, her ability to laugh at herself is one of the things that I find endearing, not so much her driving ability.







On a different note, since the kids have been gone, we've gone out to dinner alone, gone out to dinner with friends, went to a movie (The Hangover, which was absolutely friggin hilarious), toured our friends giant 700 acre nursery (the plant kind, not the kind with all of the kids. What on earth would we want to tour one of those for?), laid in bed and watched movies, slept in, worked out, etc, etc, etc. It's been everything we'd ever dreamed.







And thanks to Aunt Carol, Uncle Conrad, Mimi, Papa, Maw-Maw Carla, Maw-Maw Peggy, Paw-Paw Keith, Nana, and Paw Paw Mack for keeping the kids busy. We got a report on Cole and Scarlett the other night that apparently Cole caught a bass in the pond behind Aunt Carol's. But the even BIGGER news was that he finished eating his dinner before Scarlett TWO nights in a row!! It's good to see that some things haven't changed while they're down there. They're still just as competitive as ever.







And I just saw this picture and it made me laugh. It's from last month when my parents came to Charleston for Jaxon's birthday. This should definitely be published in every parenting magazine ever made. Notice the 2 year old sitting on the counter, about to eat a head of garlic, giant knife within reach, and dad peeling a clove of garlic with the intensity of a SWAT team member diffusing a bomb.












And by the way, I did peel that garlic. I peeled every bit of it. Yeah, that's right.

You make me feel like dancin.......

These are the coolest kids I know

Alright, so I've been meaning to post about this past weekend's transgressions, but I had to go out to Colorado for a few days for work, and I'm just getting around to it. I apologize. So this weekend was the year end dance recital that 4 out of our 5 kids were participating in. Scarlett was taking ballet, tap, and gymnastics. And Tori, Cole, and Gavin were taking hip-hop dance classes. Altogether it seemed like we had at least one kid in just about every dance number.


A little back story here: If dance class is a hot fudge sundae, then the recital is just the cherry on top. The real fun started 5 months ago bringing the kids to and from dance. On any given day, we would have to drop off kid A at dance while we brought kids B and C to baseball or softball while kid D was napping in his car seat and kid E was complaining. (And for the record, I think I like referring to the kids as designated letters. It's easy to remember, and kind of reminds me of a standardized math question.)


So if the recital is the cherry on top of the sundae, then getting ready for the recital would be the meticulous churning of the cream for 17 straight hours. Leading up to the recital, the dance place gives you this laundry list of items that you absolutely HAVE to have; new white footed tights, new black footed tights, black leotard with pink stripes, pink leotard with black stripes, solid white leotard, 1 pair of dickies that are just a little too small, 1 pair of dickies that are a little too big, 1 set of black suspenders, 1 tiger costume with ears, 1 plain red t-shirt, 1 elephant costume with ears, 1 plain blue t-shirt, 1 white v-neck t-shirt, 1 pair of dark jeans, etc, etc, etc........(I actually only made up 2 of those items. If anyone can guess which 2, I'll give them a 1 year free subscription to this blog)


And of course, in true King family fashion, we wait until the day of the recital to make sure we have all of this stuff. Hey, I said this was an adventure, right? So Sunday morning we head off to church. (Yeah, that's right, church. I keep praying for peace, and He keeps giving me patience. Go figure) But we don't go to the early church service to make things a little easier. Oh, No, we go to the late service that starts at 11. In my defense, I was up and ready to go to the early service. I was, honestly. I even got the kids ready. But Rach and I kept having this conversation:


Me: (whispering) Rach......Rach........Rach.........


Her: (sleeping) Hhhmmmmmm??????


Me: (whispering less) Are we going to church?


Her: (still sleeping) Uuummhhhhh-HUUUHHHH (sounding like a yes noise)


Me: (not so much whispering anymore) Well we gotta get up then.....


Her: (still sleeping) UUHHHH-Uummmmhh (sounding kind of like a no noise)


Me: (just shaking my head, puzzled)


Rach may dispute this story, but it is coincidentally the same conversation we have every morning, just replace the word 'church' with the word 'gym'. I love my wife, I love my wife, I love my wife. (Shhhhhh, she can hear me!)


So anyway, after late service, we go run errands to make sure we have all of our supplies. And when it comes to running errands, I'm about as useful as a third nipple. So let's just say I kept the kids company in the car. We make 19 different stops getting various items, including getting a bucket of chicken for the kids to eat before the recital, (Which for some oddball reason sounded like a good idea at the time. Did I mention that our kids are driving us insane?) only to get home 27 minutes before we were supposed to be at the auditorium. At this point, Jaxon was sleeping in the car, so that gave us one less thing to do. But we still had to get the other four kids in costume, hair-did, makeup on, and out the door. And when it comes to doing hair and makeup, I'm about as useful as an anorexic girl in a pie-eating contest. Needless to say, I just sat there and ate the bucket of chicken that no one else had time to eat. Ha! Jeff: 1, Chicken: 0


Amazingly, my lovely wife kept her cool the entire time she was getting the kids ready. There definitely was NOT any threats of bodily harm with a hair brush. And I can neither confirm nor deny ballet slippers being thrown across the room. At no point did anyone even get that evil look where she lifts up one eyebrow and pierces your skin with her eyeballs. I love my wife, I love my wife, I love my wife. (Seriously, she can hurt me)


But, just as in true King family fashion did we wait until the last minute, we were also able to get everyone there on time, in costume, with makeup on. And we're all still alive. Kudos to you, Rach.


As for the recital, I'm posting some clips from each one of the dance numbers. At some point, I'll put the whole performances on here, but I was only able to upload half of each performance because that's all that the free version of the video conversion software would allow me to do. You have to pay for it if you want the whole thing converted, but I'm too cheap for that. Or I could just download a pirated copy of the software, but I'm too lazy for that. So let the battle of cheap and lazy begin; and trust me, no one wins.


Anyway, here's the first one. I may have to post the others in a separate post. And for the record, I just got something in my eye during Scarlett's solo. It must have been from looking into the camera lens for too long. Or probably something really manly happened, like a shard of glass got in my eyeball. I definitely wasn't crying.

I guess we can rule out demons.....

Thursday was the kids' last day of school, and as everyone knows, the boys are grounded. (nothing new here) So Friday morning as I was leaving for work, I told the boys, 'Alright, while I'm gone, I want yall to write me a letter explaining to me why you think you should be ungrounded. You need to convince me to unground you. I'm not going to tell you how long it needs to be, or how many sentences. Just however long you think you need to convince me. If I don't think it's good enough, we'll start over tomorrow.' Now I have to be honest. I was not expecting any Pulitzer prize material. I figured it would keep them occupied for awhile, and give them something to do. Umm, Yeah, I was wrong.




Here's Gavin's letter:



'I'm sorry that I took to long folding clothes. And I'm sorry that I took 4 days to clean our room. I have been bad these days. I was acting up in the store. I was playing outside when we had to go throw the diaper in the outside trash. So I decided to try to be good everywhere. I will do everything you tell me. Love, Gavin'



And Cole's:



'Dear Daddy, I'm sorry for being bad. I'll try not to be bad. I'm sorry for acting up in the store and all those days I did act up. Like I said I'll try my hardest to be good. I ♥ you. All I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. If I could I would give you a billion dollars to show you how sorry I am. Love, Your Son, Cole.'



Needless to say, the boys aren't grounded anymore. I mean how do I ground these kids?









And on another note, we found Jaxon's new favorite TV show..........Wipeout! He thinks it's the funniest thing ever. But he only likes the parts when people are getting hit with things and being knocked into the water. Anytime they'd go to commercial, he'd take my hand, put it on the remote and say, 'Button.....Button daddy.' So I'd fast forward it. Then he started doing it during the show when they were talking and stuff, 'Button.....Button daddy.....Button!....Button!!!!' So I finally had to just rewind it to the parts where people were falling into the water. He didn't care if he'd seen the exact same thing 11 seconds earlier. Every time someone fell, he'd say, 'Heee Haaaa! Fall in water! Fall in water, daddy.' Looks like we'll be TiVoing Wipeout from now on.....Good times.

Angels or Demons? Or Both?

When I was growing up, my dad had a bunch of catch phrases that he would use that my brother, B-Lo, and I made fun of constantly:

'If you put your mind to it, you can do anything you want' - Really? Anything? Because I'm 7, and I'd like to fly to the moon tomorrow. How can I put my mind to that?

'Do you want something to cry about? Because I'll give you something to cry about!' - Oh yeah? I'm pretty sure the fact that I'm crying and your standing there means that you already accomplished that.

'If you're going to do something, make sure you do it right. Don't do anything half-assed.' - B-Lo and I discussed the term 'half-assed' for approximately 9,757 hours during our childhood.

And my personal favorite,

'Go outside and pick up all of the sticks, pine cones, pine needles, rocks, and large blades of grass. I don't want to dull the blade on the lawnmower by actually cutting anything.' - I may have paraphrased there, but I assure you B-Lo would back me up on those events.

The point (other than the fact that my dad is crazy) is that not all parental advice sinks in when you want it to. And you might not know how much actually did hit home for another 15 or 20 years. Sometimes I wonder if anything is getting through to our boys. For the past couple of weeks, they've been absolute nightmares. Room's a mess, not listening to anything we say, fighting with Scarlett, fighting with Tori, fighting with each other; just being overall frustrating. For the last few weeks, we've been making them do physical labor as their punishments. Your room's not clean? Do 15 push ups. Talking back? Give me 25 sit ups. Fighting with each other? 5 minutes of wall sits. It was working too.....for awhile. But their fitness levels are increasing faster than we can up the punishment. The other day, I couldn't get them to do anything. I was super frustrated, so I made them do 75 push ups and 15 minutes of wall sits. They didn't even blink. They laughed the whole time. We've created indestructible monsters. If there was a kids version of American Gladiators, we'd have it in the bag. It got so bad that they needed a good old-fashioned butt whoopin. Rach took the boys with her to go run errands the other day and said they were acting up the entire time. Here comes the whoopin. I can't remember the last time we spanked them. I don't do any of the spanking because I'm already big and scary looking, and I don't want them to fear me physically. So Rach steps up to the plate. She'll usually hit me with whatever her tool of choice is just to make sure it doesn't hurt. Last night it was a wooden hanger. (I remember my mom grabbing the closest object. Didn't matter what it was. Sometimes it would even be something silly, like a roll of paper towels.) So Rach gave them a couple of licks each. Just enough to make a mark. (I remember the part I hated most about getting spanked was the bare ass-ness. I gotta say though, it was pretty funny seeing their tiny little red hineys. Not funny Ha-Ha, just funny Awww) And just when we think that nothing's getting through to them.......

Last night Rach was talking to Cole's teacher at their end of the year party about why Cole is going to a different school next year. (it's a much better school, and we can send all 4 kids there) Cole's teacher was telling Rach that she wished Cole would stay at their school because they needed his test scores. Apparently, he got the highest standardized test score in the school. She also said that Cole always associates himself with the good kids in class. He's had opportunities to get sucked into the bad crowd, but he just didn't.

Then I get home today and get this note from Gavin's teacher.



Wait, What? These are our kids? I guess maybe we don't have to wait 15 years to see if this stuff is getting through after all. But we'll still keep the hanger close by just in case.

At least she's not a belly itcher.

Yep. That's Tori pitching in that picture. Last week our starting
pitcher hurt her shoulder during a game. We were winning 8-2 when she
went down. We lost that game 9-8 on a bases loaded walk. In the two
games since then we gave up 13 and 15 runs. So Tori started pitching
last week in the backyard just in case. In our game tonight, our
starter gave up 11 runs in the first two innings so I figures, 'Hey,
why not?' Before the next inning while they were warming up, Tori
wasn't even close to finding the plate. For some reason, I got
ridiculously nervous. I'm one of 'those' parents now. Walking the
first batter didn't calm me down any either. She calmed down though
and only gave up 1 run over the next two innings. She's still got a
lot of work to do to become a true pitcher, but you gotta start
somewhere.

Which reminds me; this week marks a year that we've had Tori and
Gavin. And a little over two years ago we only had TWO kids. Two years
ago, if you would've told me that at this point I was going to have a
pre-teenage girl, two nine year old boys, a six year old diva, and a
two year old monster; I would've punched you in the face and slashed
your tires. Now I'm almost peeing on myself when my 12 year old goes
to the mound for the softball team that I'm coaching. What!?! What
happened? I blacked out. Just kidding. I wouldn't trade any of it for
anything.....well, maybe for a couple of hours of sleep, but that's it.