Oct 9, 2014

Some Things Are Big (And Some Things Are Small)

A throwback to my post from five years ago. Not much has changed. In all the best ways.

Originally posted October 9, 2009.

It was on this date in 2004 that you hit the jackpot, Julie.

It's been five years since we tied the knot and since then I think I've continually exceeded your expectations. Surely you didn't expect me to gain so much muscle weight. I'm certain you never anticipated how passionate I could be about fantasy football. And I know you didn't think it was humanly possible to spend so much time in the bathroom. What can I say -- I'm an overachiever.

But today isn't just about me. It's also about all the things I do for you. I've introduced you to so many wonderful things. Like online first person shooter games. And breakfast cereal for dinner. And dutch ovens. I even cultivated your unconditional love of camping and watching ten straight hours of football on Sundays. How empty would your life seem without me?

Just think of all the personal growth you've achieved with my gentle and persistent coaching. I'm sure that when you eventually learn where exactly the toilet paper belongs in the bathroom you'll only have me to thank. (Hint: It's not on the sink or the back of the toilet.) One day, you too may obsess over refrigerator organization all because of my mentoring. And if you commit to it, I think you have the potential to surpass my own hypocrisy and stubbornness -- traits revered in political circles the world over. These are just a few of my many gifts to you. (I'm what the single ladies out there refer to as "a keeper.")

Sure, it hasn't been all wine and roses. I've gotten pretty adept at anticipating your every need, but sometimes even I make a mistake. Luckily those mistakes are few and far between. Married life is full of challenges, but I'm just as committed as ever to help show you the logical way to overcome those challenges. I know logic doesn't come easy for you, but that's what I'm here for. That's why we make such a great pair.

So here we are, five years in on an already crazy journey. (Seriously, what's up with cranking out four kids already?) Most people probably look at our relationship and scratch their heads. How did Hoolie land such a man? How does such an imbalanced marriage thrive? Well, I just smile and wink at those head scratchers. We're in this marriage for the long haul and I know you've got plenty of time to make it up to me.

Happy anniversary, Julie. There's no one else in this world I'd rather drive crazy. I love ya' lots.

Sep 27, 2014

The Littlest League Possible

This picture tells two things:
1) Why I cannot hang out on Saturdays.
2) The height of my children relative to their peers. (The lower the number, the smaller the jersey.)

Despite his small stature, Darwin is one of the more aggressive players out there, especially for his age group. But since his usual competition is always bigger, stronger and faster, it's not really a surprise.

Aug 22, 2014

Hot Freaks

While cooking dinner, I heard a howl come from the dining room. I wasn't particularly startled since I'm used to screams coming from just about any room in the house throughout the day. This scream seemed no different than any other. I was sure it was my two-year old, Eliana, crying out. Her brother probably looked at her funny. Or her sister had the nerve to use a crayon that she had been using three hours earlier. You know, the usual.

I stopped what I was doing and made my way towards the ruckus. In addition to the sobs of the two year old, I could hear hysterical laughter coming from at least a couple of her older siblings. Despite, or maybe because of, the mundane nature of the disturbance, my annoyance level was running high. There's something about mid-dinner prep disruptions that make me grit my teeth and huff harder and louder than normal. I could already feel a roar welling up in my chest before I even entered the room. Whatever these chowderheads were up to, this parental volcano was about to vent some steam.

They didn't disappoint.

My poor two year old daughter, tears streaming down her cheeks, sat in front of a partially eaten taco. A taco made entirely of shredded cheese and habanero pepper sauce. Her three older brothers could barely contain their laughter. Until they saw my face. Silence descended upon the room mere milliseconds before the first notes of operatic fury left my lips. I froze them in their tracks before they could make their breakneck retreats to the far corners of the house. Timeouts were issued sagaciously and without delay. While my hooligans quietly reflected on their heinous misdeeds, I tended to my daughter's scorched mouth.

Some cold milk and a lollipop were enough to soothe both Eliana's taste buds and her psyche. But what to do with the scoundrels that perpetrated the crime...

I had each of the boys stick out their tongues to receive two direct drops of unadulterated hot sauce. The anticipated heat was probably worse than the actual hot sauce, but the message was received.

Hot sauce retribution. Fitting? Silly? Cruel and unusual?