Sunday, March 23, 2008

Bok, Bok, E-Bunny.

It's Easter and we ate too much! Easter is one of those holidays I always looked forward to as a kid. I got to dress up, the weather was just starting to break, I got new clothes, and I was shuttled to church with a healthy sugar buzz. I will, however, (I know, it's hard to believe that I might indeed throw some cynicism in here) think that the actual meaning of Easter gets a little overshadowed by our giant, creepy, poofy-tailed friend who hops into the living room and leaves a basket of fake grass and goodies. Not to mention (spoiler alert!!), the aforementioned friend was the one who tipped me off to the fact there was no Santa Clause. My over-developed sense of childhood logic and my grandmother's unwillingness to lie to me following direct questions, conspired to lift the ever delicate veneer of magical holiday heroes from my eyes, wrecking my carefully constructed belief in sleighs full of magical reindeer, giant rodents kicking off my spring with milk chocolate, and tiny fairies airlifting giant bags of quarters all over the world, monetarily rewarding the loss of baby teeth. My tiny brain thought "giant bunny? in my house? bringing candy? no way. what else could be a giant lie?". And thus began a new era of less magical holidays. Being around a 4-year old that still buys the magic, however, has added a new dimension of fun to the whole thing that I've been lacking for several years. It's cool to see him get excited, and allows me to vicariously feel a bit of that excitement again. And, there's always ham. Ham is exciting.

Wedding planning. I am feeling a tremendous amount of guilt over wedding planning. Contrary to popular belief (and the fact that it is literally a part of my job title) I am not much of a planner. So far, we have been about as successful at planning our wedding as Coach Rodriguez was at tactfully making a lateral job move. We looked at one venue: too expensive. We placed another venue in our sights: they would never call us back, lost their chef, and put the whole place up for sale. So, we are on the venue hunt again. Meg found a dress she really, really liked, then second-guessed it due to price, and now is looking again. I have, admittedly, not been very helpful in my suggestions: "We'll get the dress anyway!": shot down. "How about kilts?!?": shot down. "Man, a nacho bar would be cool!": as of this writing, being contemplated with a potentially positive result. I honestly would marry the woman in a tool shed if she were wearing manure-covered overalls (and in a rare moment of politcal correctness, I will apologize in advance to anyone belonging to a culture who believes in poop-covered matrimony), but in the end I want her to be happy. I view our wedding as an "us" moment, but a "her" time to shine. And a potential "nacho time" for all involved.

That's all I've got for now. Happy Easter!!

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Taxation Without Representation

Good morning! I write to you from the hustling, bustling District you know as your Nation's Capital. I am literally right down the street from the Capitol Building and just about two blocks over from Union Station. As I sip my $5.00 coffee and toss the wrapper from my $4.50 cheese danish, I can't help but wonder what the week holds for me. I haven't been in DC since I was in high school, and while I tend to find a trip to the city...any city...refreshing and invigorating, the timing was just off on this one and I'm not feeling much of either.

If anyone knows me a lick, they know I don't particularly enjoy the hobbing and knobbing that goes with my job. I regard it, at best, as a necessary evil, and at worst, a complete waste of time. Like my Dad always says to me when I go to one of these things "You're certainly among them, aren't you, buddy?". And yes, I am among them. Especially this trip, as my entire day tomorrow will be spent lurking through the halls of the Congress, meeting with the staffs of Senators and Congressmen and Congresswomen (Congresspeople??), explaining our issues, our challenges, what we do, etc. as they smile blankly and act interested.

Working for an organization whose primary sources of funding start at the Federal levels makes it simply a matter of practical necessity that I deal with bureaucracy on several levels...local, state, federal. And while I do indeed like meeting all sorts of people, the more I engage these different levels, the more I lose faith regarding how our country, state, and localities work. Doesn't leave me with feelings of warm, fuzzy hope for the future.

Normally, I would simply be invigorated by being in the city. Hopping cabs from one cool shop, restaurant, and site to another. But this trip, I just want to get it done and get back home. Too much going on in my personal and work life at home to be able to relax and enjoy my $5 coffee and my $28 appetizer-sized salad and crabcake. My only saving grace this trip is a Starbucks in the lobby, and two cool, rustic Irish pubs right next to each other around the corner with good food and Guinness on tap. I'm also close to Union Station, which is really cool, beautiful, has a lot of neat shops and allows me to sit and people watch.

Somebody important was here this morning because as I walked outside to fetch a paper, there was a cop car and a very serious Police SUV sandwiching a very serious black Cadillac with a driver in front of the hotel. Not sure who it was. Maybe Hillary was coming to visit me and I wasn't available. Maybe Obama ran up to my room and I was outside reading the post. Maybe McCain wanted to chat with me before he ran over to the White House for lunch. If so, sorry guys. I was getting a paper and my $5 coffee.

On a high note, I have had the opportunity to listen to Michael Beschloss speak. He is an author and a Presidential historian and I used to watch him on Imus in the Morning quite regularly on MSNBC before it was cancelled. He was funny, and interesting, and so far it's made my trip.

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Carry on, my wayward son...

What a week. A week to end all weeks. Kole finally caught the cold crud that we were hoping he would avoid, but he's better now. That being said, he has decided to go on a rampage of bad behavior that makes King Kong look like Snuggles. In the course of a week, Megan and I have experienced a degree of defiance and craziness from him that neither one of us have seen before. He has knocked his tv off its stand, knocked his lamp over, consumed marbles (which is amazing..Kole won't even eat sloppy joes or anything with gravy on it) and the coup de grace: climbed up his chest of drawers, toppling his turtle tank and the ant farm sitting next to it. By The Grace of God, he was not seriously harmed (minor cuts on his fingers), but Megan and I were needless to say, a bit rattled after plucking him out of a pile of shattered glass, turtle-tainted water, gravel, and drowning ants. Teeny Tiny Tim (The turtle formally known as Kole's) did indeed survive the ordeal, but has been whisked away to an undisclosed location (Nana's House) to convalesce and recover from post-traumatic stress disorder before being enrolled into the second grade at Blackshere Elementary School in Mannington. God Speed, Tiny Tim. Be cool and stay in school. Study hard and make us proud.

Now, I'm putting a somewhat humorous spin on a series of events that have left us stressed, exhausted, praying, thankful (that Kole wasn't injured more severely) and in tears (not necessarily in that order). Since then, our lives have been filled with two hour, screaming and crying "time outs", behavior progression charts "now, you get a smiley sticker for going to bed and a frowny face if you whine" and Kole's room has been cleared of all...well, everything...except books and a bed. It is lock-down at Windridge Manor, and we're trying to progress with wisdom, consistency, and patience.

Megan and I, being two very distinct personalities save for our unending stubbornness, have ironically dealt with this situation with much the same kind of emotion and reaction. Nothing makes you feel like more of a failure than your misbehaving child. I feel horrible, because I am the newest addition to the scene, and thus feel a great deal of responsibility, while she feels horrible because she's always been on the scene and can't figure out where this is coming from. But, we keep communicating about it and personal feelings aside, this truly isn't about us. This is about Kole. I want nothing more for him than for him to grow into a decent, caring, Christian man. A better man than I have ever or could ever be. I long for him to have the kind of love and guidance Megan and I had as kids, and far richer life experience than either one of us have ever had. I hope that with love, time, and prayer, we can get where we need to be. But right now, it feels like we're crawling through a marathon (if you haven't gotten the hint yet, please feel free to send some prayers our way). But we are trudging through, ever the stubborn trio of misfits.

Out of all of this, however, have sprung some good things for me. Some "silver linings" per se. I first will say publicly, that Megan is an amazing woman and wonderful mother. I would have never had the strength, selflessness, and presence of mind to have done as good a job raising Kole as she's done up to this point on her own. I think it's a testament to her character, her strength, and her sheer will that she hasn't mentally crumbled before now. She is a guide to me in how I should parent, and a constant supporter of my place in this situation. I waited a very long time to get married (I am a fresh, precocious 34), and it is precisely for this reason: I have waited my entire life to marry a woman like Megan. She was well worth the long trek of crappy, confusing relationships and more than worth the wait. My love has waited a long time for a place to land, and it couldn't have landed in a finer spot than Ms. Haugh.

I have responded to the stress of the week's events in an extremely forward-thinking manner that befits my advanced age: I spent a bunch of money. We are now officially owners of an X-Box 360, and 4 games: Call of Duty 4, Modern Warfare (mine), Cars, Maternational (Koleman's), Sonic the Hedgehog, and American Idol (Both Megan's). We're not obsessed yet, but it's giving us something we can do as a family during bad weather that's a little different. I went looking for a Wii (and still want one) but got the X-Box 360 anyway. To balance out the laziness of sitting on the couch and executing precise, military, special operations missions all over the virtual globe, I have also order the workout package P90X. I used to work out pretty vigorously via running and weights, but life, love, and work have conspired to make me more sedentary than I've been in some time. I was not blessed with the genes of Megan's family in that I cannot eat all the time and still remain trim, so lest I turn into "Oh, look at Megan's new husband..he's so cute...he's like a little bowling ball with a beard!", I need to take matters into my own hands and start up again. The premise behind P90X is "muscle confusion". Lots of different routines that keep your muscles shocked and your brain from being bored. The success stories I've seen have been very impressive, so we'll see. I'm not afraid to work out hard, and never have been, and I hope this is a routine I can stick to. Perhaps I'll take some "before" and "after" pictures. We need some new photos for this year's Christmas card anyway.

Over and out....