Zoe's Dad

Zoe's Dadhttp://zoesdad.comQuick BlogWhew! Do Not Go In There!http://zoesdad.com/2008/07/01/whew--do-not-go-in-there.aspxThere's something to be said for a good purge every once in a while. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not condoning bulimia here. Or any other self destructive means of dealing with severe body dismorphic disorder. Maybe purge is not a good metaphor. How about there's something to be said for a big fat steamy one every once in a while. Wait, I suppose that, too could fall into the whole eating disorder realm what with laxative abuse and what not. The point I'm laboring to make here is that my mind is a bit cluttered and I feel the need to release some of the incongruent tangents. The fragments of thought processes that lead nowhere and are basically taking up space in my head. Great! Now I've added--find a metaphor for purging the random thoughts in my head without appearing to condone body dismorphia--to the list. If someone has a better metaphor, please help me.

1) My gutters need cleaned. No metaphor here. I really need to have my gutters cleaned. Presently the gutters on my home are nothing more than ornate planters, except that stuff growing there is volunteer trees and weeds. How in the hell does a seed get 35 feet in the air and take root? How did the dirt get there?

2) It seems that the battery in my cell phone is refusing to hold a lengthy charge. That sucks! I don't want a new cell phone. It's not that I like mine, it's just that it is a royal pain to transfer all three of the numbers I have presently have stored in my phone. And it's blue.

3) Why am I washing so many towels? Do we have to wash a towel after each use? I mean, really. You are clean (supposedly) when you step out of the bath and use the towel. It's clean water--we don't bathe in the river. Although I have substituted a dip in the pool for a bath on more than one occasion. A wash cloth I can see. You are using that to scrub away the grime of the day but a towel? Can't we just use the towel, let's say twice, before we wash it? That would cut my laundry in half right there!

4) Yesterday the high temperature during the day was 64 degrees. June the 30th for Christ's sake. We had to go swimming just to warm up!! (Not really, but I'm sure the water temperature was higher than the ambient air outside.)

5) I use my video camera to take still pictures. (It has that feature.) But sometimes I wonder if I should use my other camera. I would love a nice digital slr. It's on a wish list. So is 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep but I doubt I'll see any of them anytime soon.

6) There are only 55 days until school starts. Can that be right? How can my summer be passing by this quickly? I'll have a 2nd grader, a 1rst grader and a pre-k der. So for three days a week for 3 hours, I'll be down to 2 kids. It's like free time!

7) I'm going to go pet the pig. Again, no metaphor. (You sickos!) The county fair is going on all week and the kids love the pig barn. Actually, they love all of the animal exhibits. The sheep barn is loud! Those suckers never shut up. Really. Then my kids start bleating back at them and I can't get that freaking sound out of my head! The goats are much more quiet.

All righty, then. I feel better. A little. Anyway, if you're looking for some reading with a little more substance check out Jeremy's site Discovering Dad. He's running a series this week called What Dads Really Think. It's a follow-up series to an earlier run of a wildly popular series called (oddly enough) What Moms Really Think. The series involves questions posed by some great mom bloggers and answered by an all-star panel of dad bloggers. Well, except for one--Jeremy asked me to be on the panel. Check it out. Yesterday's question was about communication and today's addresses the issue of flirting. It's a fun series and I'm glad Jeremy asked me to be a part of it.
]]>BabblePet the Pigrandom tidbits of thoughtpurgediscovering dadZoe's Dad2008-07-01T11:03:48ZSunday Sonnets--A Refreshing Showerhttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/29/sunday-sonnetsa-refreshing-shower.aspxMy kids get frightened during thunderstorms. The lightning startles them and the claps of thunder elicit screams. I could watch it rain all night. I love the way night time is broken by momentary flashes of brilliant white light and I could listen to the rolling thunder on an endless replay loop. Raindrops on a metal surface somehow soothe me. And nothing compares to the exhilaration of watching a storm cross a body of water making its way to the screened porch where you safely can absorb it's power and beauty.

It rained last Wednesday night. A good rain, hard with plenty of lightning and rolling thunder. I sat, alone in my living room as the family slept and I enjoyed every bit of it. Images of my youth flashed with each bolt of lightning and the booming thunder turned the pages as I watched the storm. And I listened. It was pretty cool.

This week's Sunday Sonnet was inspired by last Wednesday's thunderstorm.

A Refreshing Shower

There's something soothing, calming
About watching a springtime thunderstorm.
Lightning flashes and I count...
One, two, three, four.

And the crash of thunder lets me know
The center of the storm is not far.
The rain pelts the air conditioner.
My clogged gutters are useless.

As the water pours down I take solace
Knowing that one more chore has been done
My plants won't need the hose tomorrow
And it'll be far to wet to mow.

And bonus: the car is getting a free rinse....

Oh, Crap! I left the windows down!

]]>lightningThunderstormsSunday SonnetsRainZoe's Dad2008-06-28T23:17:27ZStill Jammin--a Reposthttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/28/still-jammina-repost.aspxDad! We're all up. Come on!

Coffee.

Da-aadd!

Zoë, I need coffee.

I've got to admire her spunk. For some crazy reason we look forward to this weekend all year long. Comfest. The name says it all, doesn't it? What? It doesn't? How about Community Festival? Better? As far as Zoë is concerned, anything that deems itself worthy of the name festival demands her presence. The girl likes to party!

And so it shall be. We are preparing ourselves this morning for the 8th consecutive trek to Comfest. Damn the weather reports. There's a festival happening out there and we're off to be festive. I'll let you know how it goes. Until then, why don't you read about last year's Comfest. Rather than link it (I know, we get lazy and hate to click a link) I'll just repost. Enjoy, and hope your weekend is as festive as ours.

Jam On, You Hippie Freaks! (originally posted June 24, 2007)

The streak is still alive, seven years and counting. In an otherwise quiet park located just north of the arena district downtown every June for the past 35 years a three day festival is held. I heard somewhere that it is the oldest free music festival in the country. Is that true? I don't know. But Zoë, at the ripe old age of six has just celebrated her seventh Comfest. She was 5 months old that first time.

Now a seasoned veteran, mere mention of Comfest and she excitedly exclaims, "New tie-dye!" She even helps weave through the hordes of festival go-ers to find the tie-dye booth. This year she helped pick new outfits for the entire family. I got a little teary-eyed just watching her. Wait, that was from the smoke billowing over from the rib kiosk, which we also patronized.

The festival is billed as a family friendly place where you can just kick back and soak up the "vibe of an enviable exercise in participatory democracy." Loosely translated, I think that means you get to drink lots of cheap beer, share a bong with your buddies (or a stranger) and paint your bare breasts like something that vagely resembles a holly leaf and berries and amble through the park half naked walking your unleashed, frequently crapping irish wolfhound as your stoned entourage plays hackey sack and flings frisbees all the while listening to your favorite local bands from every genre you can imagine and even some you can't. Hint...should anyone ever mention to you, "Let's go check out that chick that does the sweet uke wailing", punch them very hard for even suggesting it and run away.

I'm not sure if the festival has changed all that much over these past seven years or just me. Maybe now that Zoë is noticing more of the world around her I, too am starting to take notice. Don't get me wrong here, I love the festival. I'm just not sure how much longer we can really bill this thing as family friendly. I'm not trying to shelter my kids from the reality of the world around them but I have to stop and ask myself, "At what point in my children's lives do I want them to realize that there are people in this world who are even more crazy than their dad?"

So, is the streak over? Will we make it eight years in a row? I'm not so sure. My overall resolve to make the yearly trek was in all honesty dampened this year not by the looming clouds but the reality that my little girl is getting older and I'm not going to be able to shelter her from the rest of the world forever. Maybe I'm just trying to hang on a bit.

I've never been a big coddler and I'm a horrible liar. When she asks me questions, big questions, I just can't seem to help myself. I've got to be honest. Case in point:

Zoë: Is she allowed to take her shirt off? (refferring to the girl with the painted breasts in the port-a-john line two people in front of us)
Me: Allowed? (Pausing) Unfortunately, yes she is allowed.
Zoë: Oh. (a standard Zoë response)
Me: Should she? Absolutely not. (the list is long and sorted and far be it from me to mash anyone's mellow so I'll suffice it to say--"Bad paint job!")

]]>tie-dyeFestivalsComfestZoe's Dad2008-06-28T10:39:10ZMove Along, People. Move Along.http://zoesdad.com/2008/06/26/move-along-people--move-along.aspxIt's been a while since I've ushered you guys away from here. I don't like to do it for a number of reasons. First, I'm not very good at self promotion. Oh, I've done it but it's uncomfortable and not really who I am. I prefer that people come here to see what my children have done and the crazy spin I may have been able to put on their daily adventures. I don't sell anything and there are no ads to click on my blog. There was a time and I'm not saying there won't be again, but for now I like it this way. I like the fact that if you come to me you get me. Not a pitch.

I truly appreciate every one who takes of their time to visit here and even more so, leave a comment. I think people in the blog world call it validation. Me? I just enjoy your company. I really, really do.

That being said, I'm gonna send you away today. Over to Quirkee.com. You may have noticed the link in the sidebar referring to my column at Quirkee, World-Colored Glasses. Well, I've been pretty remiss about submitting lately but I added a new one this week. (It'll be published if I submitted in time.) But don't just go for me. Quirkee has a stellar line-up of writers in the Quirkee Voices section: Laura Normand (Will You Be My Guru?), Eric Broder (Great Indoors), Matt Sadler(Guy Walks Into a Bar), Leigh Anne Jasheway-Bryant (Accidental Comic), JR Brow (A thousand Miles From Nowhere), James Grayson (Because I Said So) and the newly added Piper of Love (From the Mouths of Babes), but that's just the tip of it. There's pictures, a new Quirkee Quirky Photo Group on Flickr, Interviews, Reviews and oh so much more. There's a new issue every Thursday morning, so stop by and check it out. Visit often and don't forget who sent you.

P.S. Ann, if you go to Quirkee, I'm only kidding. I promise. You're the best!

]]>Quirkee.comWorld-Colored Glassesa little self-promotionredirectZoe's Dad2008-06-25T20:59:37ZEvery Once in a While.....http://zoesdad.com/2008/06/25/every-once-in-a-while.aspxStop it, Naer. (That's how Zella refers to her twin brother, Zander. Naer. It's pronounced something like NAIR but with more of an emphasis on an e sound as opposed to what the short i does to air. Nay-er with less of a y. Try it. Naer. Naer. Oh forget it. By the time you figure out how she does it she will have mastered the next phonetic phase in her development and the word will be lost forever.)

Stop it Naer.

I wan dat. I WAN daaatt!!

Naer, no!!! (Crying ensues and more arguing. More words are exchanged but quite honestly it's hard enough to decipher when they are speaking without tears and whining.)

There's no real point to the argument. Is there ever really when two year olds are involved? I suppose my point in relaying is that the scene above is repeated daily at least three or four times, often more but seldom less. It would seem that I am forever engaged in a struggle to keep the peace around here. A task made more difficult by the fact that I find myself having to yell so loud to be heard above their screaming that my message becomes clearly--incongruous when considered with the tone of my delivery.

But every once in a while, when the planets align just so, there is peace. Be it ever so fleeting, there is peace. I was looking for a picture I had taken several months back--(I didn't have to look too hard for I've got pictures on my camera from January that I've yet to download. Maybe you remember that post.) Anyway, I stumbled upon this picture that will surely be displayed prominently at family gatherings, first dates, prom nights, graduation nights, weddings and all manner of noteworthy occasions for years to come.

Yeah. Every once in a while there is peace.

]]>Sibling lovebrothers and sistersthe big kissZoe's Dad2008-06-25T00:31:59ZDon't Drink the Waterhttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/24/dont-drink-the-water.aspxBoys will be boys. How many times have I heard or used that phrase in my lifetime? Exponentially more so as a parent. Little boys like mud, bugs, animals, teasing little girls, sports, tackling things, kicking things---the list goes on. Just yesterday Zoë ran into the house to let me know about the mouse in the yard. They had tried in vain to get Ariel, the cat, interested in chasing the thing but she wouldn't. The mouse was just sitting there.

I came outside just in time to stop Zane's outstretched arm from picking up the--not mouse but--huge rat that somehow found it's way into the yard and had decided to park itself under the bird feeder as it was providing a ready source of food.

Dear Lord, Zane! Don't grab that! That thing will gnaw your arm off!

It was huge!   Half the size of Ariel. No wonder she wasn't interested. She was scared to death!

Suffice it to say that Mr. Rat has supped for the last time at our bird feeder. Zoë was repulsed at the rat's demise. Zane thought it was cool.   Boys will be boys.

And just today.....

Zander, whatever you do.....don't drink out of this cup. (Zane to his little brother.) I just peed in it.

What?? I yelled from the other room.

Zane enters the living room holding the aforementioned cup in his hand, clearly the vision of a boy who has done wrong and knows it--only for he has been caught.

Zane!

Yes.

You peed in a cup?

Yes.

You peed in a cup you picked up off of the floor in the basement?

Yes.

You peed in a cup you picked up off of the floor in the basement that was lying 3 feet in front of the toilet?

Yes.

If I ask you why, will you be able to give me an answer?

I don't think so.

Well, at least he warned his brother. It could have been worse. Much worse.

I think you know what I'm talking about.

]]>Catspeeboys will be boysratsZoe's Dad2008-06-24T16:11:46ZSunday Sonnetshttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/22/sunday-sonnets.aspxIn an effort to stimulate stagnating brain cells and hopefully spawn some creativity, I am working on a little thing I think I shall call SUNDAY SONNETS. Essentially, Sunday Sonnets will be a brief collection, quite random, of events or happenings around here in a loose verse form. And no, I will not adhere to the truest definition of a sonnet as being a verse or song of 14 lines of iambic pentameter. I'm not a poet--hell, I'm not even a writer--but then again you already know that, don't you. My initial offering, though not labeled as such, would have to be last week's "That'll Teach Em".

This week's Sonnet addresses the ever dwindling rodent population around Casa de Ed. For discussion purposes let's just assume that rabbits are rodents, OK? I'm a dad not a zoologist. Though zoo keeper would not be too far from an apt job description.

RODENTS BEWARE

Rodents, beware.
Though extremely cute and cuddly, your safety
Can not be assured in this place.

Yesterday's offering
By our feline warriors was a most
Adorable (and assuredly dead) bunny.

The kids cringed
With horror and repulsion at the feasting
Yet would not look away.

Then Rusty
Availed himself
To the spoils.

And the feline feast was done.

Note to self: Get cat food!

]]>Bad PoetrySonnetsDogsCatsRabbitssheer lazinesscat foodZoe's Dad2008-06-22T00:30:41ZI Don't Do Anything.....http://zoesdad.com/2008/06/19/i-dont-do-anything.aspxI file them in like little ducks. Everywhere. It's a scene of repetition, an endless replay loop of loading and unloading, filing in and out from car to door and back again. I'm kind of used to it now. It's commonplace. This morning I had some information to pick up from the church office. I've been conned into leading the 3-4 year old class at this year's Vacation Bible School. (God bless my mother-in-law!) And so each morning next week I'll be leading a group of 3 and 4 year old children in their daily Bible School activities for St. Mary's Catholic Church. It's kind of funny. My sister-in-law said, "Wait. Aren't you Methodist?" "It's worse than that," I replied. "I'm Baptist."

So as I pick up my information packet this morning the woman at the church office proclaims, "My, don't you have a lot of helpers." To which came the following responses:

Zoë: I help a lot. I made Daddy's coffee this morning. (She did. And it was great. Irish cream--freshly ground beans.)

Zane: I help, too. Sometimes I make the coffee.

Zia (speaking in her loudest outside voice that begs to be heard above the clamor or four siblings): I don't do anything. I'm just cuteness!

She's got a point.

]]>VBSCute KidsVacation Bible SchoolMethodistsCatholicsducks in a rowBaptistsZoe's Dad2008-06-19T11:19:53ZLullabyhttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/17/lullaby.aspxVince is playing upstairs, songs familiar, forty years familiar, yet timeless and with each play exciting and new. Above the calming melodies children are laughing. Mischievous squeals followed by "sshhhes" and "be quiets". The chandelier in the dining room occasionally rattles, jarred from the playful bouncing upstairs. Baths were skipped fatigue having won out over model parenting. Teeth were brushed. I take solace in that.

Not so very long ago the iced tea I'm enjoying would taste salty and of olives, burning ever so sweetly as I swallowed. I'd have finished two (or three) and be heading to the deck for some fresh air. I'm content this evening to listen to the music and the laughter of children who should be sleeping.

Yeah. I'm OK with that.

]]>lullabyvince guaraldibed timechildren laughingZoe's Dad2008-06-17T20:54:16ZAndy--Revisited. A Father's Day Reposthttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/15/andyrevisited--a-fathers-day-repost.aspxFather's day. Dad's all across the country will be heading out to the golf courses and ball parks, lakes and rivers, or just to the living room to veg out in the Lazy Boy with a frosty adult beverage sporting that new paisley necktie because--well it's dad's day and that's what dads get to do on their day, right?   I've got other things that need tendin' cause well, I just do. So I thought I'd repost from last year my thoughts on Father's Day. I think it still rings pretty true and it captures what I really feel about Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day. (originally posted June 16, 2007--Thanks for the Warning, Andy)

Warhol once said, "In the future, everyone will be world famous for 15 minutes." I've spent my entire life trying to figure out how I was going to leave my mark, my signature. How will the world know that I was here? What will be the Legacy of Ed? I'm nominal, at best when it comes to sports. I can barely hold a tune in a bucket. I don't play an instrument. I don't have a best selling novel floating around in my head. Forget business ideas, and I'm not really all that altruistic, so servitude is out.

Six years ago this January, I finally got it. I realized in a single moment on a snowy winter day, how I would be shaping the future, changing the world around me. My epiphany.

January 18, 2001 at 3:54pm I became a father.

"And the clouds parted to cast a true shadow." My idiotic quest for personal glorification died that day as I then came to realize it's no longer about me. My life now has purpose, focus and meaning. My children are my world, they mean everything to me. And I know now that my legacy, my signature is them.

Father's Day is supposed to be about honoring dad, recognizing his sacrifices and his greatness. I think it should be about the kids. You guys are my reason, my purpose and my joy. And let's face it, without you, Father's Day would really be just another Sunday in June.

Happy Father's Day, guys. I love you.

]]>ChildrenAndy WarholFather's DayZoe's Dad2008-06-15T12:24:53ZKoot Little Skirrellhttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/13/koot-little-skirrell.aspxIt's O-Tay little skirrell. It's O-Tay. Aww, what a koot little skirrell.

Zella, what are you talking about?

What do you have there?

Aww,Zella! (exasperated) That's not a squirrell. It's a chipmunk.

And it's dead!

Would you please stop hugging it!

]]>kids are disgustingZoe's Dad2008-06-13T00:13:26ZAt Least it Didn't Say--Send Help!http://zoesdad.com/2008/06/11/at-least-it-didnt-saysend-help.aspxIt's been one of those mornings. Screaming, crying, fighting, name calling, whining, hurt feelings. All of this and more.....

before breakfast!!

The kids were banished to their rooms while I attempted to regain control of my emotions and fold some laundry. After about ten minutes, I look into the hall and see a small note, hand scrawled on a piece of tissue paper that had been slid under their bedroom door.

It's not quite lunchtime yet and....

the kitchen has been cleaned
the laundry has been folded and put away
and the van.....

Well, let's just say that there were a few things they were able do to redeem themselves.

Penance

]]>penancelong dayCrime and PunishmentZoe's Dad2008-06-11T12:05:13ZThat'll Teach 'Em....http://zoesdad.com/2008/06/04/thatll-teach-em.aspxI've got a bird in my attic.
Damn thing flew in there
Couldn't find his way out.
He died.

I left him there
As a warning
To any other birds
Wanting in........

I've got flies in my attic......

And a rotting bird carcass.

]]>poor judgementsheer lazinessZoe's Dad2008-06-08T00:13:42ZI've Got the Answershttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/06/ive-got-the-answers.aspxMany of you may have read about this contest over at Whit's place. What? Who's Whit? I'm not quite sure that question deserves an answer, rather a swift slap across the face and quite possibly some spittle in the eye! Whit's the man--he says so himself. Anyway, seems Whit has offered a little contest to all five of his readers that offers not one, not two, not three---it goes on--but eleven books. Real books with pages that are made of real paper (I can only assume paper as I have not actually seen these books myself, nor do I have actual proof that the books are real--but why would Whit lie?).

All you have to do is answer a few simple multiple choice questions, compose a short essay and in no fewer than ten words (no more either) describe why Whit is the man. I'm about to give you the opportunity of a lifetime. Why? Because I care. It's what I do. I'm a carer..er type of caring person that cares about things and people. Really, I do. I'm not only going to give you the answers to Whit's little questionnaire but, by commenting here, I'm going to make you eligible to win Whit's contest. That's right--Whit shall choose 5 winners (yes FIVE) and I shall see to it that FIVE (5) additional lucky duckies have the opportunity to receive all eleven books. It's win win here people!

Major Award

And now, let's get to those answers.

Question #1: the answer is TRUE

Question #2: he's playing guitar with Band of Gypsys in Paducah, KY every Tuesday night at Earl's

Question #3: trick question--again the answer is TRUE

You're on your own for the essay, however, hint for the bonus--say something about his big feet--he likes that.

Just remember, I'll pick five winners in addition to the winners chosen by Whit. Just leave a comment and let me know you want in. I gotta tell you--with my readership in the low single digits--you've got some really good odds here.

Contest closes sometime soon--maybe later but it definitely won't last forever. Maybe on Wednesday. Or Tuesday.

*Oh, I just re-read some rules. OK the rule. It's only good for residents in the US and Canada (I know, a little exclusionary). Sorry, Brits. We'll think of something.

Edit note Wed. June 11--the contest has now been closed and winners have been selected--congrats to Pam, James and Cindi (the only eligible participants. Well, Whit did comment making him an eligible participant but because he was also running the contest I figured he probably had access to the prizes as well). Enjoy your books.
]]>Contestmajor awardWhitbook awardHonea ExpressZoe's Dad2008-06-11T22:08:09ZBreakfast Conversationshttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/04/breakfast-conversations.aspxConversation at at breakfast yesterday morning between Zoë and Zane on their last official day of school.

Zoë: What's that?

Zane: It's a tag that goes on a zipper.

Zoë: Where did you get it?

Zane: My fourth grade buddy gave it to me.

Zoë: Man, I wish I was in kindergarten.

Zane: Yeah. It's good times.

]]>school's outthings kids sayZoe's Dad2008-06-04T11:32:59ZWhat Did We Forget?http://zoesdad.com/2008/06/04/what-did-we-forget.aspxLet's see. Do we have everything we need?

Hey, guys. Can you stop that, please?

Cat food..

Dog food...

Bird seed....
(Why don't we call it bird food? Really. We're feeding the birds this stuff not growing birds. We don't plant the seed we put it in handy little feeders and the birds come to eat it. It's bird food!)

Guys! Please stop that.

Help me out here. Did we forget anything?

Milk....

Cereal....

*Cue the crash*

Guys!!!

*Cue the screaming*

*Cue the blood*

OK. So we forgot gauze bandages and...

Band-aids.....

That's right. In the check-out lane Zane and Zia were having a little wrestling match. One thing lead to another, Zane tackles Zia and she slams her head into the metal storage bin. I had to head over to the pharmacy department and get bandages to patch her up in the store before we could leave. Turns out, it was just a small cut and only needed two stitches.

My wife put them in herself. I made a stop by the ER where she works (she was fortunately off of work) and picked up a suture kit and some supplies. We did the procedure at home all "Amish style" with Zia laying perfectly still on the bed biting a bullet and screaming her head off. But she didn't move. Brought back fond memories of when I used to assist my wife with procedures in the hospital where we first met. Good times!

Stitching completed, I headed downstairs to get a band-aid. Through her sobs she told my wife, "I...hope...sniff..it's a colorful one."

It was.

Yellow.

]]>shopping with kidsless than stellar public behaviorstitchesZoe's Dad2008-06-04T09:24:57ZBreaking News!http://zoesdad.com/2008/06/03/breaking-news.aspxSome of you may find what I am about to reveal to you a bit alarming. Shocking really. But I feel it my duty inform. You see, I don't just pose pithy little stories about my kids. Every once in a while I am bound by some weird conviction to actually provide content. Information. Learning. So here it goes.

Boys are different from girls.

And the crowd screamed----What? What??? That's crazy talk!

But I'm here to tell you that it is true. And although there may be some readers who have already glommed on to this little nugget of information I offer just one example to those who may still be doubting.

Last evening, our baby sitter was performing at a local talent competion. She won People's Choice Award at the same competion last year and was performing this year as a courtesy--an encore we'll call it. I had planned on bringing all of the kids but Zander seems to have developed a fever of unknown origin. I felt it prudent to keep him home.

And no, we did not rush him to the ER or call our family doctor in the middle of the night. We gave him Motrin and Tylenol. That's what you do!

OK, that's what we do.

Anyway, Zoë was going to be devastated that she would be unable to attend. She's all about the performance, the big show. Doesn't matter if she's not the one on stage (though she would much rather that be the case) she has a great appreciation for the arts. Zane was going to be upset that he couldn't have wings for dinner. You see---different. But that's not the difference I'm talking about. It is one but it's not the one I have in mind.

As it turns out, Heidi made arrangements to pick up Zoë and Zane and bring them to the show. They were excited beyond words to say the least. Zoë rushed upstairs and began selecting an outfit for the evening. Zane went outside to play on the swingset. Differences? Yes but that's not it.

After four outfit changes (that's 4--F O U R)--shoes included Zoë, settled on a nice little pink dress and her pink polka dot shoes and accessorized the whole affair with a neclace and some ear bobs. She looked adorable and was thrilled to be having an evening out. Zane eventually made his way back inside. I asked him if he was going to change and he said,

"Why? This is appropriate. I've got shoes on!"

He had a point. He was wearing shoes. I also gave him credit for using the word appropriate in a sentence.

"Well, can you at least wash the dirt off of your face and hands?"

"I suppose."

So there you have it. Appropriate evening attire for Zoë, a girl, involves carefully selecting and outfit with matching footwear and then accessorizing with a nice set of earings and a necklace. Maybe even a clever clutch. Zane, a boy, believes approriate evening attire means you have to put shoes on.

Zoe

Anyone else have a difference they'd like to share?

]]>fashion senseboys vs girlsZoe's Dad2008-06-03T08:32:19ZIt's All About the Journeyhttp://zoesdad.com/2008/06/02/its-all-about-the-journey.aspx

Alright, kids. Here's your choice. We can go to see the log cabin where Abe Lincoln was born .....or....

Yeah??....(There was feigned enthusiasm somewhere deep within. I could feel it. What they really were thinking was. Dad, I'm not so sure I want to hear what choice number two is because quite honestly, choice number one SUCKS!!)

Or we could go to Dinosaur World.

Ooh!! Yea!! Dinosaur World. Dinosaur World. Dinosaur World!! Dinoworl! (Zella and Zander chimed in--they had no idea what Dinosaur World was. They were just following the crowd. Typical!)

The kids could not have had more fun. Dinosaur World is your typical tourist trap oasis tucked into the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains somewhere along interstate 65 in nowhere Kentucky. The kids were able to follow a winding path through the woods where life sized replicas of dinosaurs greeted them around every bend. They paused at each one scarcely long enough to enunciate the syllables in the long dinosaur names before running on screaming like banshees as they went. (It had been a long ride.) There was a play area, a small cave with a movie and a dinosaur dig area where the kids were able to sift sand with a strainer in search for fossils, bones and what not. And of course, there was a gift shop. Lord knows if you stand any chance of having a successful tourist trap you've got to have a gift shop. We have five very nice glow in the dark dinosaurs to add to our collection of toys soon to be discarded and forgotten. Thank you for asking.

It's been a long week. Emotional. Tiring. Draining. Our stop at Dinosaur World was needed in many ways. And as I recall the journey this morning I am reminded of how just such a stop would have been something typical of my mother. She was never a point A to point B person. She enjoyed the ride. The trip. Always eager for an interesting adventure or side trip. I can hear the voice of my brother, pleading from the back seat, "Mom! Can't we just get there? I don't want to see a rock cliff that may or may not look like W.C. Fields' nose." She would just smile or laugh in that way she had, continue tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel to the rhythm on the radio and say in her calmest most encouraging voice, "Sure you do. It's going to be fun. Besides, I might find another rock for my garden."

My mother had a habit of collecting rocks, boulders really, for her garden. She has rocks from every state we have traveled during our vacations from Texas to New Jersey to Florida. She would just pull off by the side of the road and choose what she felt would be a nice rock for her flower garden and place it in the trunk. All fine and dandy until my brother and I were old enough and she would send us out on the rock missions. "Mom, please! Don't make me get out of the car to get you a rock." "There are some nice ones right over there," she would say. "Hurry up and close the door. Your letting the mosquitoes in the car."

I suppose in many ways I am like my mother and becoming more so each day. I'm not really sure why I decided a side trip was in order yesterday. It's typically not something I do while traveling. It's typically something my mother did every time she traveled. My kids we beside themselves with excitement. And gratitude. They couldn't thank me enough for giving them an adventure. I can't thank my mother enough for teaching me the importance of the journey.

I love you, Mom. And I'll miss you.

]]>DinosaursMemories of Momlincoln logsTravelingrocksZoe's Dad2008-06-02T09:30:05ZWe're Gonna Need a Turkeyhttp://zoesdad.com/2008/05/27/were-gonna-need-a-turkey.aspxI am ever amazed at the resiliency of my children. God bless them, they keep me strong.

A conversation this morning with Zane (5 years old).

Me: Hey, Buddy. We're going to have to miss your big poetry readings and songs this Friday.

Zane: Why?

Me: Well....remember your Uncle Monty called this morning about my mom, your grandmom?

Zane: Yeah...

Me: Well, man. She passed away this morning. We have to go down to Louisiana.

(Zia chimed in) Dad, I'm sorry about your mom.

Me: Thanks, Zia. Me too.

Zane: Yeah, me too. Sorry, Dad. (short pause) Oh, we need a turkey!

Me: What?

Zane: Yeah, whenever someone dies you need to bring food.

Me: Good point, Zane. Good point indeed.

My mother passed away this morning. I'm off to Louisiana to say goodbye to her in a religiously appropriate manner. Oh, and find a turkey!
]]>saying goodbye to momZoe's Dad2008-05-27T20:21:11Z....Six? Hey Wait a Minute!http://zoesdad.com/2008/05/20/six--hey-wait-a-minute.aspxPeople laugh when they see me counting my children in public. It may even go so far as to perpetuate some of the negative stereotypes many have of men as bungling and inept fathers. Guys seemingly overwhelmed at the prospect of having to actually spend time with their children. I don't really care what they think. One of my assigned daily jobs is loss prevention. I'm charged the lives of five wonderful children and my goal each day is to see to it that five wonderful children are safely tucked into their beds at night.

However, I would like to offer that my obsession with counting my children does have it's benefits. Advantages if you will. I was reminded yesterday of Zander's first haircut.

As is the norm, all five kids and I had piled into the van and headed off to Cookie Cutter Kids. This place is fantastic! As soon as you walk into the door you are greeted my an enormous indoor slide and climbing apparatus. My kids went berserk!

In the back, where the actual work takes place, kids get to choose from a variety of seats (airplane, race car, helicopter, motorcycle, etc.) all facing their very own video screen. These people have it down to an art. The kid is totally at ease and could care less what you are doing to their hair. And as a bonus, you are not so torn between standing at your child's side and having to coral the others because they are equally as entertained. All the way around my kids love going to get their hair cut.

Haircut having been completed I began the task of rounding up the kids. "Let's go troops!" I said motioning towards the door and the kids, for the most part, gathered and began to file out. I say for the most part because it's a little bit like herding cats. As we start to make our way across the parking lot to the van I begin, "One, two, three, four, five, six?....Hey, wait a minute! You're not mine."

Seems my tone may have been a bit commanding when gathering the troops and this one scared but obedient little boy filed right in with my kids. I quickly ushered him back into the store to his parents (yeah, plural) who had not even missed him. So, yeah, I count my kids. It has it's advantages.

]]>Counting KidsCookie Cutter KidshaircutsZoe's Dad2008-05-20T18:52:10Z