Camp Frail

Conner's world

2009-08-26T12:25:00.003-04:00

A conversation in the car on the way to school today:
Conner: "One day I was in the yard and I heard a big thunder. I ran inside and Abbey gave me emalade.* That cooled me off."
Maggie: "How did emalade cool you off?"
Conner: "Maggie, you're not in this story."

*Emalade, if you didn't know, is lemonade. We don't correct him because it's just too cute.

It's all about the teeth

2009-07-24T08:36:00.002-04:00

Our anniversary was yesterday, and Maggie asked Pat if we were getting each other gifts. He said no, we were going out to dinner, but we don't usually give gifts. Her response?

"You guys need to save your money to fix my teeth anyway."

Obsessed

2009-06-21T08:42:00.003-04:00

Conner is obsessed with Slash (the lead guitartist of Guns N' Roses and now Velvet Revolver - don't worry, I had to look up the second part).

We've had to listen to "Welcome to the Jungle" enough that I can't stand the song anymore. He'll listen to "Sweet Child of Mine" sometimes, but you're not allowed to sing along - Slash doesn't like that.

Conner plays air guitar or uses pieces of wood, Nerf guns, whatever, as his guitar. He's already planning to be Slash for Halloween.

Yesterday, he announced that he is going to form his own band. The name: Love Handle.

He says he'll be the one in the purple hat.

Golf, chipmunks and ice cream

2009-06-12T19:03:00.004-04:00

For your reading pleasure: another batch of e-mails from Pat.

Jan. 3, 2008
Conner is a little confused about the terms used in golf. He was in the yard with his driver, and he was hitting plastic golf balls. The neighbors really like that we switched to these. He was hitting them pretty well. Each time he hit, he was taking a PGA-style divot. We're not even going to get into the fact that the driver isn't supposed to dig into the ground.

After he finished removing the sod from the yard, he told me, "Look, Dad, I made little tunnels." I told him that those were divots, and he explained to me that these were tunnels. He even went so far as to tell me that I am wrong. He used those exact words: YOU ARE WRONG.

I really appreciate you passing on the gene that makes you right in your own mind even when you are completely wrong. I also love the gene that you passed to him that gives him the ability to make you wonder whether he's right and that all these years I've been wrong. When he gets older, some woman will fix that for him.

It also doesn't help that Abbey and Maggie took his side on this one. As payback to them, I am serving vegetables only for dinner.

Jan. 14, 2008
To date, I am still cooler than you. As we were driving home from the Brownies meeting -- where, by the way, I was the only male in attendance. That was truly the estrogen ocean. I swear that I think I got a dirty look from one of the mothers just for being a man in a group of women. The troop leader was trying to make all the moms feel good and repeated several times that the girls will be safe on the upcoming camping trip. My first reaction was that Maggie will be safer there. Everytime she enters this house she is in danger of an injury of somekind. This is a vacation from being in this nutso house.

Back to the orginial story. We were listening to Radio Disney and Alvin and Chipmucks were singing the "Witch Doctor" song, and I knew all the words. The girls were very impressed, or at least Maggie was. I think that I have entered the "My Dad is an embarrassment" stage with Abbey. I explained to them that the Chipmunks have been around a while. This did not help me at all. Now I'm an embarrassment and old. Conner was just dancing in his carseat like the Caddieshack gopher.

You are the leader of your team at work and the leader of this house. Your children and your husband look up to. But until you can sing all the verses of "The Witch Doctor," you are second fiddle when it comes to being cool in this house. By the way, it goes "Ooh ee ooh aa aa ting tang walla walla bing bang." Here is a link so that this will be in you head for the rest of the night.
http://tinyurl.com/n6pfsh

Feb. 28, 2008
I don't know this for a fact, but I would bet that the founder of Anheuser-Busch and Miller Brewing had at least one daughter.

March 18, 2008

Your hidden inventory of Klondike bars has been found. Not by me but by the boy.

He was completely unimpressed with the entrees that I presented for this afternoon's feeding. So he got a chair from the kitchen table and took it to the freezer. He moved several things, and when he found the Klondike bars, he yelled for me to come here. He pointed to them and told me, "See, we got some."

I told him that those were Mommy's and he then told me, "It's OK, she loves me." He doesn't seem to care that you will not love me if he eats them. He is fine with that.

How do I know this, you ask? He is in the living room with two of them as we speak. I asked him if we should share with the girls, and he said no. He then took the box and placed it back under the frozen pizzas. Hidden from the girls.

I can hear the chair going back to the freezer, so I had better go so I at least get one.

The Dark (Blue) Side

2009-06-10T08:17:00.002-04:00

Conner: Is Darth Vader a Carolina fan?

Me: No, he's a Duke fan.

Not just a pretty face

2009-06-05T20:35:00.003-04:00

This evening after we finished dinner, we decided that a game of touch football was in order. For the record, Cathy is working the late shift tonight.
The teams were boys against girls. Now, before we continue, I must tell you that we are a very competitive family, and these games get ugly in a hurry.
The game was going well for a couple of series. I told Abbey that she needed to get Maggie involved in the game. On the next play, Abbey tossed the ball to Maggie, and she threw a perfect pass to Abbey for a touchdown. This particular play is what is called a turning point in the game. Maggie was hyped up.
After Abbey kicked off, I received the ball and was looking to hand it off to Conner. Maggie came out of nowhere and dropped me like third-period French. I mean, she totally pancaked me.
My first reaction was to slap Abbey on the butt and say nice job, but it was Maggie. My next thought was to look around and make sure none of the neighbors saw it.
Maggie jumped up and said, "Gotcha, Dad!"
Maybe I won't need to buy a gun for the future boyfriends after all.

Lordy, lordy ...

2009-06-03T20:23:00.003-04:00

... Shelley's 40!

She's proving she's not old by running The Bear - a 5-mile run up Grandfather Mountain (http://www.hopeformarrow.org/bearinfo.htm) with Mark and Kim.

I'm impressed, but I will not be doing that on my 40th.

Oh, Conner

2009-06-03T20:15:00.003-04:00

Conner's newest dessert creation: chocolate ice cream on a toasted hot dog bun. His favorite lunch lately: a pickle sandwich. Ugh. He has an iron stomach just like his dad.

* * *

I ran an errand last week and was gone for about 10 minutes. When I got back, he came into the kitchen and in his best Southern accent said, "Damn, that was fast."

* * *

I got him a doughnut at Krispy Kreme last week, and when I handed him his bag, he opened it and said,"Holy crap! Awesome! Just what I wanted!"

I'll take responsibility for some of what comes out of his mouth, but not all of it.

Getting ahead

2009-05-13T15:34:00.005-04:00

We've neglected the blog during soccer and T-ball season, and we have another weekend with at least four soccer games and two T-ball games coming up (did I mention three of the games are in Wilmington?). Here are some old e-mails Pat has sent me - now we're ahead and Oliver won't have to yell at us. :)

May 31, 2007
This house, this one location, is the sock capital of the USA. I have taken calls from Thor-lo, Hanes, Nike and Adidas. They are not impressed that we have a corner on the cotton market. They have asked that we stop buying socks for the children so that the cotton industry can take a break. They are also asking if Abbey can be paid as a sponsor. She has 45 pairs of socks, all from different companies. They are looking for some product loyalty. As a sidebar, she has 52 socks that do not have matches. As a family, we have 125 unmatched socks. Where in the hell are the other 125? You would think that a pile like that would stand out a touch. I have checked under beds, in toy boxes, around the laundry room, in couch cushions, in pillow cases and even under mattresses. They nowhere to be seen.
It is my expert opinion that we have a large family of woodland creatures holed up somewhere in the house and resting comfortably in a two-bedroom ranch cotton house. Why a ranch, you ask? Because cotton may be durable, but it doesn't make a good two-story house.

June 11, 2007
Maggie has come up with an innovative new way to potty train Conner. She says that we should get him on the potty ready to go. We should then tickle him until he pees. They are a few minor obstacles, however, and here are the solutions as well.
Conner will move around a bit causing a fire hose effect. Boys do not have the correct plumbing for this move. Solution from Maggie: Put a towel over him and use a seatbelt on him.
Can you just see me in the bathroom strapping Conner to the toilet?
This will become a learned response. Solution from Maggie: We can take turns with him in the bathroom.
What I do not need is a teenager who needs to be tickled everytime he has had a lot of water. I do not have enough money for the hours of therapy that will be needed to fix that.
While the whole tickling thing has its merit, I think that we will stick with the traditional ways. The loud rumbling you feel underground is Dr. Spock rolling over in his grave.

June 22, 2007
Abbey is washing and folding clothes. She is doing all the laundry. Mine, yours and the kids' clothes. She is taking the clothes to the respective rooms and putting them away. I have no idea why. She was not asked by me to do it; she just is. She says that she is trying to help me, but I really don't believe her. She just got the vacuum cleaner and is actually using it and using it correctly. Conner just told her, "No, that's Daddy's vacuum." I am truly scared. Nothing good can come from this.

July 16, 2007
Your son just pantsed me. He loved it. He actually laughed until he fell down. One of those belly laughs. Neither of the girls is taking credit for his new knowledge. Being the adult of the house and the level-headed person that I am, I pantsed him back. He ran into the room and told
Abbey, like a good little snitch. Abbey came to me and told me not to do that anymore and it is not fair to do that to him since he is little. I actually felt bad even though I explained that he did it first. Apparently the adult of the house when you are not here is Abbey.

Sept. 10, 2007
Conner was concerned about the dental hygiene of the bathroom sink today. He emptied the toothpaste into the sink and used his toothbrush to eliminate all cavities and the bad breath that the sink will have from time to time. Your son is cute, handsome and all that, but Ivy League is only happening if it is athletic.

Sept. 11, 2007
There is a new rule in the house, or at least enforcement of an old rule. As the ranking minority leader of this house, the rule is as follows:
The men of the house are not allowed to leave the house with toenails painted. We are manly men. (I realize that in the International House of Women, our house, there will be times that painted toenails on the men will happen. I am all for practicing on me or the boy.) The reason for this rule is that the boy seems to like it and he just asked me to do his fingers. He also requested a color.
There are a lot of things that we will do for the women of this house. We will put the seat down, replace the toilet paper, knock before entering a room, hold doors open, use good manners at the table, farting and burping we will hold to a mininum, we will try not to make women/girls cry and not drink directly from milk jug.
The men of this house are standing up for our gender. Enforcement of this rule will begin today.
This is, of course, if you are OK with it. We are men but not totally stupid.

Oct. 1, 2007
Since you are sooo busy doing your job I will update you as to the progress in Maggie's and Abbey's rooms. All their clothes are cleaned, folded and sorted. They are in four laundry baskets. I was not aware that we had four laundry baskets until I went into the girls' rooms. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to get Maggie's clothes put away with her assistance. She will be happy to help, mostly because her future residencey in this home rests on it.
It is an impossible mission because we could all move out of this house and give all the square footage to Maggie and there is not enough room for her clothes. I have checked her dressers, and they are full. For God's sake, this child could live in the Biltmore and she would have it full in a week.
I have picked her up from school for a couple of months now, and she has not worn the same outfit twice. The teachers at the school have a pool to see if Maggie can make it the whole semester. I have twenty in it that says she can. I have inside info that she could make it the whole year.
Now, as for Abbey's room. This is the world champ at being a pack rat. I have found clay projects and paintings from preschool. She has apparently been practicing putting up there because there was about a dozen golfballs under the bed and dressers. For the love of all that is holy, can we throw out the trash can load of shoes from the last five years in her closet? She is not going to shrink in foot size.
Currently I am putting my soap box away because your son is peeing in the yard.

The Hustler

2009-05-09T21:16:00.003-04:00

Conner and I just got finished playing the Wii. We played golf, tennis and baseball. He is not great at these but respectable. I kicked his butt. Yes, I'm a real cool dad, I beat a 4-year-old like a drum.

After his took his woodshed beating in the above sports, he suggested that bowling should be next on the list. Before we started he said, "I'll play for a dollar." I took this bet. This would be a great way to teach him a lesson. He produced a dollar. I produced a dollar and the game was on. I bowled first, and it was pathetic. He looked me dead in the face and said, "You're going down." He proceeded to bowl a 250. I didn't even get within 75 points of him. He finished me off quickly, took the $2 and said, "I'm going to bed, Dad. You need to practice before we play again."

Back on the map again

2009-05-05T13:25:00.005-04:00

Good afternoon, all. Or at least the 5-6 people that read this. Since only one person leaves comments, I have to rely on disguntled e-mails that I need to post something. It has come to my attention that I have neglected my duties as a blogger. Please accept my apologies. In my defense, we have been a touch busy in this house. Since April 13, we have had the following:

16 soccer practices
5 tee ball practices
14 tee ball and soccer games
2 Brownie troop trips
4 Brownie meetings
1 trip to Chapel Hill (not for pleasure)
1 trip to Wilmington (Abbey field trip)
1 meeting at Maggie's school
The company Cathy works for had layoffs (she was not included in the layoffs)
Countless school projects for Abbey

For those of you who could care less about the above, here's a story for ya.

Conner found some change on Cathy's dresser yesterday and placed it in a small plastic box. He was very proud of his money and was showing it off to anyone who would look. Conner and I went over to see Carlo (our neighbor) later in the afternoon. Conner showed his box to Carlo. This was the exchange.

Conner: Look, Carlo.
Carlo: That's cool. Are you collecting money?
Conner: Yes.
Carlo: Well, here is a dollar for the collection.
Conner: Thanks.
Carlo: What are you collecting money for?
Conner: Me.
Carlo: What the heck? I thought you were collecting money for something important.
Conner: Nope, I just want money.

The ladies man

2009-04-13T16:49:00.004-04:00

I went to pick up Conner around lunchtime today. His class was outside on the playground, and they were just beginning to line up to go back inside when I got there. He was in the front of the line, and when he saw me he got out of line and started toward me. He was high-fiving the boys, and when he reached a girl she pulled him into a big hug. The next girl in line was not to be outdone, so she grabbed him and hugged him. The next girl is the love of his life, and she hugged him and kissed him. I actually saw his legs buckle. The last one in line was a boy, and he high-fived Conner as if to say, "Yea, boy." Conner was red in the cheeks and smiling all the way home.

Conner's first T-ball game

2009-04-05T11:53:00.006-04:00

Pat says T-ball isn't cute (kind of like there's no crying in baseball). I disagree. Conner, for one, was very cute.

Vacation over

2009-04-03T20:02:00.002-04:00

The kids and the mama arrived safely Thursday late night. They all proceeded to take their butts directly to bed. Reality slapped us all in the face this morning. Laundry needed to done. Meals made. Kids were arguing, playing, yelling, creating messes, hungry, bored, cleaning and thoroughly driving us both insane.

Vacation is over.

Day Three

2009-03-31T21:09:00.004-04:00

Ah, day three of the beloved vacation. I returned from work (this working all day thing is crap) to a quiet house and our dogs completely confused and starved for attention. It seemed that they miss the kids because they weren't amused that I was the one who showed up to play ball with them. They got over it when food was introduced.

Today was not a total wash, though. I was offered dinner from our neighbors, Carlo and Toni. Carlo is a retired executive chef, and believe me it doesn't matter what he serves, it's creative and delicious. Dinner was chicken wrapped around ham and fresh mozzarella with a tomato-garlic reduction. Great dinner and lively conversation. I also got to continue with the "I'm not cooking theme."

The kids and Cathy are still loving life on their vacation. The weather is amazing, and the surprising part is that the kids are behaving. They are headed to Busch Gardens Tampa Bay tomorrow. As for the fishing trip with the "world class guide" my brother-in-law went on, you guessed it, they caught a ton of fish. Par for the course. If I flew down there this evening and started fishing at the crack of dawn, I would catch nothing. The reason, you ask, is that the fishing was always the best it's ever been the day before you get there. I'm sure they caught all the fish that they say they caught because fisherman are always honest.

According the Weather Channel, it is going to rain here Wednesday, but I'm still hopeful that golf is in the cards. If not, silence, Sportcenter and the Golf Channel will fill the void.

Day two

2009-03-30T20:01:00.004-04:00

Alright, this was not the relaxing day that Sunday was. Not nearly the amount of chilling and no basketball or golf to watch. I had to work. Yes, I'm a whining like a big baby. It was a beautiful day, and all I could think about was when I was going to be done and get to the golf course. I did drag myself to the course for a quick 9 this afternoon.

Let me tell you that getting up in the morning and having to only get myself ready and out the door was very choice. No one to get to school or make breakfast for. Not having to get dressed in the dark. Didn't have to be quiet so that I don't wake Conner or Maggie. I normally wake Cathy, and she's generally not happy about that. I actually had time to sit and drink a cup of coffee and watch Sportscenter with the volume up. I am setting the clock a little later because I had too much time to kill this morning before leaving for work.

I have gotten several texts from "She who must be obeyed." Most of them were "We are going to the beach" or "Going shopping." My brother-in-law is going fishing with a world-class guide in the a.m. I know it's a world class guide because he told me a couple of times (4) this afternoon. Now, these messages are designed to make me jealous. NOT. I'm good and playing golf again Tuesday.

Day one of Big Daddy's vacation

2009-03-29T19:05:00.004-04:00

Day one started with getting the wife and kids out the door so that I can get to the scheduled tee time. In the words of General Tommy Franks, "Mission Accomplished." We were on the first tee before she and the kids left the state. The golf was good - not great, but good. Can't remember the last time I had the chance to play golf with no one immediately related to me in this state. Cathy called me a couple of times, and I didn't feel guilty once. This was a first. Just for the record, she landed in south Florida safely.

I had an executive lunch (couple of beers and an entree). Also for the record, the word couple can mean 2 or 6 - take your pick. I came back and watched Louisville get kicked in the mouth. My bracket is screwed more so now than before.

Just got a call from Cathy. It's 86 degrees, and the low tonight in south Florida is in the 60s. Also just got a text from my brother-in-law. He is there as well with his family. Contents of the text are confidential. Trust me, he is not impressed with me right now.

My evening will end soon, but not before I sit quietly on the deck with a glass of cold beer and a very good cigar. I'm the coolest person I know. Except for Cathy's Uncle Dave, who is dealing with my children as we speak. Still love ya, Dave.

"Do I have to jump?"

2009-03-28T12:59:00.007-04:00

Over the past week I have been telling Conner that he's going to Florida on Sunday and that he will be taking his first plane ride. Mostly, I've been holding it over his head when he does something wrong. Almost every day he has asked me if he'll have to jump out of the plane. Everytime I tell him, no it will land, and you can walk out of the plane. No worries, you will have a great time. I answer his question and he moves on.

Yesterday the question changed a touch. "Dad, when I jump out of the plane and land on the street, will I get hit by a car?" I was standing there and had no idea what to say when Abbey looked him dead in the face and said "Probably" and walked away. Conner looked at me and said, "That's not gonna be good."

Today, Cathy finally told me why he has been asking this question. For two months now, he's been watching an episode of "iCarly" that Maggie recorded, and in that episode they have to parachute out of a plane. And we were worried about him watching the news.

Ready to go

2009-03-28T10:49:00.004-04:00

Conner informed me when he got up today that he has already packed for our trip (we leave tomorrow). He has Legos, his bear (also named Conner), a toothbrush and a shoe. Yes, a shoe.

He packs like his father, who always forgets something major when we go on a trip. He once went to Florida with one pair of shoes: bucks (like these). Even then, wearing bucks with shorts wasn't a good fashion statement.

Not the exit he hoped for

2009-03-26T10:25:00.001-04:00

After sending Conner to his room, there's nothing funnier than watching him try to slam the door, only to have to do it six times before it finally shuts.

Great quotes

2009-03-25T16:55:00.003-04:00

"Beer will get you through hard times without money better than money will get through good times without beer"

"On the eighth day God created beer to keep the Irish from taking over the world"

Countdown begins

2009-03-25T16:17:00.005-04:00

81 hours and 30 minutes. That is how long I have until my vacation. My wife and children are going to south Florida for 5 days during spring break. Cathy has completely lost her mind to take three kids to Florida by herself, but I'll be damned if I am arguing with her. I am staying home because I have to "work."

Yes, I am looking forward to this. I am completely prepared for this break in the action. The second I leave work each day I'm playing golf. I am eating meals in a restaurant booth or in the living room out of styrofoam. I have a stack of takeout menus the thickness of a Tom Clancy novel. I'm not cooking anything. I will have complete control of the remote. I've called the cable company to have them block all channels with cartoons or pre-teen shows. Quicker browsing is very important.

Cathy has a list of things that she would like to have done to the house in their absence. My list is a little different. I'm gonna sleep in the middle of the bed, leave a wet towel on the bathroom floor, drink milk directly from the gallon jug, not listen to Jesse McCarthey or Miranda Cosgrove on YouTube, leave my golf clubs in the living room and not do any laundry. I most sincerely will miss my wife and kids, and several people have informed me that I will go insane with the silence. That ain't gonna happen.

How men clean

2009-03-17T21:03:00.003-04:00

Everyone is cutting back in one way or the other these days. I decided to do my part for our family. Conner and I decided today that we were going to clean out the van. We cleaned out all the papers, soccer stuff, clothes, chairs, coffee cups and such. After opening all the doors, I produced the backpack blower and blew all the remains out the doors. It took 2 minutes. I turned it off, looked at my son and said, "This is how men clean." Conner looked at me and said, "Can we clean my room with that?"

There he goes thinking again

2009-03-05T11:48:00.001-05:00

Me: "Conner, are you supposed to draw on your leg?"

Conner: "My brain told me to do it."

Catch a tiger ...

2009-02-25T21:12:00.003-05:00

Me: "Conner, you can lay on my bed, on the couch or in your bed."

Conner: "Can we play eeny meeny miny mo?"

What I thought but didn't say: Yep, because no matter what, you lose.

Yes, he said that

2009-02-23T12:55:00.004-05:00

There is a tradition in the preschool that the girls attended and Conner currently attends. During the last week of Febuary, the teachers hand out Mardi Gras beads. When Abbey was 3, she appeared in the doorway with a neck full of beads. An enormous amount of things flashed through my mind. Maybe flashed was a bad choice of words. Let's say raced through my mind. It took most of the day to get the idea of my daughter (much older) dancing around the French Quarter out of my head. I was not much better with it when Maggie was 3 and she donned the beads after school. Fast forward to today. Conner walks out of class this morning, and he has his beads on. Not a single OMG thought came to mind. I am thinking that he is a little confused as to how this works, but I am OK with it. However, when we got in the car I asked him about the beads and he said, "I want to give these to Mom." In my infinite wisdom, I told him to give one to Mom, and if you don't get in trouble I will give her the rest later.

It's not fair

2009-02-17T19:14:00.003-05:00

Good Lord, is there anyone out there who wants an 11-year-old? I am completely sick of the meltdowns, hormones, questions and "I'm tired but I'm not going to bed early" crap. Here is an example. After dinner this evening, I asked Abbey to take her brother downstairs to help him play MarioKart. You would think that I asked her to cut her toes off with a butter knife. She actually told me that she had spent an hour with her brother over the weekend and she should be allowed to not have to deal with it during the weekdays.
The thing that drives me the most nuts is that she will finally give me a break from the Oscar Award-winning drama performance and take a shower. Once her shower is over, she waltzed her little butt downstairs and played with her brother. What the hell happens in there? Is she using some kind of special mood-changing water? I get nine miles of bad road before the shower, and he gets to play MarioKart with his sister after the shower. There is something terribly wrong with this picture. Why do I have to suffer?

Editor's note: Cathy takes offense at this

2009-02-10T21:20:00.004-05:00

Why is it that the oldest child in the house thinks that she's the third adult in the house? She thinks that we, as parents, should take her advice on how to raise the younger ones. For Abbey, being an 11-year-old girl has a great many issues that I am not interested in understanding. She is always telling me what I am doing wrong with Maggie and Conner. I truly love it when she opens that pre-teen Pandora's box and irrationally explains that I am doing this parenting thing all wrong and I should change how I talk, walk, prepare dinner, do laundry and whatever else. What Abbey fails to realize is that I have a wife who tells me what I am doing wrong on a daily basis. This is not a position that needs an assistant.

Don't bug her!

2009-02-06T20:11:00.003-05:00

Here's what happens when you give a 7-year-old a camera:

Who's the Boss?

2009-02-02T10:05:00.002-05:00

During Springsteen's halftime show at the Super Bowl, Abbey winces and says "Oooh, this guy can't sing."

Then, to make it worse, "At least he's better than Neil Diamond."

Those are fighting words, and she knows it. You don't talk bad about Neil Diamond.

Picture this

2009-02-01T20:01:00.003-05:00

In the middle of the Super Bowl, Conner is standing on a milk crate in the living room, hitting a balloon in the air. In his underwear.

Dad's in charge

2009-01-27T19:36:00.002-05:00

An e-mail from Pat sent Nov. 6, 2007
Subject: Football god

Your son has a thunder bolt for an arm. He has a gift from the football gods. He has been running across the living room throwing a Nerf ball to me. He has thrown tight passes that have hit me in the chest every time. Before we go any further, I know that we are not supposed to play football in the house. You're at work, I am here, get over it. Rules are different when you're at work, and the girls and I can blame Conner if anything breaks. He has thrown passes left while running right and vice versa. Notre Dame called a little bit ago and needs your son ASAP. For God's sake, they are 1-8.
There is one drawback, though. He cannot catch to save his life. I have tried everything. I even stood a foot from him and lightly tossed the ball to him and it hit him in the head. His hands didn't even move. Abbey even tried to help, and she thinks it is hopeless. When he does get a hand on it, it's like he has bricks in his hands. He even dropped the ball when I snapped it to him. The shotgun formation is definitely out of the question for now. He is going to have to learn the fine art of fumble recovery. As much as it pains me, Notre Dame will have to wait until he is actually 18.
On another note, Maggie is crying because she gets to watch the movie that is on. I told her that it was her turn to pick the show on TV. She is crying because she seems to think that Conner is going to change the channel to Diego. This could actually happen if we knew where the DVR remote was.

Fashion faux pas

2009-01-27T19:32:00.005-05:00

An e-mail from Pat sent Dec. 10, 2007
Subject line: Daddy's a bonehead

I just changed your son for bed. This in itself was a simple operation. After I finished he proceeded to the couch and watched the movie du jour. Several minutes passed by and he came into Mommy's room - yes, it is still is not my room - and yelled at me for the pajamas that I chose. Evidently the white pants with the snowflakes are not the bedtime fashion statement he had in mind. He waltzed his little behind - he actually stomped off - into his room and produced a pair of blue "Cars" pajama pants. He then told me, "These pants are for big boys. These are for girls." This alone was funny, but when he said "These are for girls," he was pointing to his crotch.

The ship

2009-01-20T13:24:00.004-05:00

An e-mail from Pat sent May 29, 2008:

The ship that is our household has officially sunk. The captain of the house (me) has sounded the alarm and is getting to a lifeboat ASAP. Abbey is a complete mess about this homework. I have canceled her dentist appointment and have set her up with an army of shrinks instead. Middle school and puberty will not be a pretty picture. Maggie brushed by one of the kitchen cabinets and let out a scream like she had torn her arm off. She also announced that Conner will hit me soon. I was on the phone when she urgently needed to tell me this. Imagine that. Conner is walking around the house with my aluminum bat, and he has a serious look of trouble on his face. He just freaked when I threw away a quarter inch of pickle he had not finished. He is on the couch currently crying that it is not fair. So with all of this, I am jumping ship and leaving it to sink further with the kids in it. I am not a true captain, but I am good with it. I am saving myself.

Snow days

2009-01-20T10:11:00.004-05:00

I am going to take this moment to sincerely apologize to my mother. Snow days are a pain in the butt for the parent who is home for the day with the kids. When I was a child (or more precisely younger than I am now - I rephrase because Cathy calls me a child almost weekly) I would get up at the crack of dawn, suit up for the snow, go outside and play. This would mean that I would get completely soaked to the skin within an hour or two. I would go inside just before frostbite was about to set in and drop all the clothes in the laundry room and expect them to be dried quickly by my mother. I would also expect large quantities of food to be provided for me and my friends. My mother would do all these things, rather quickly, and then we would be on our way outside again. This cycle would be repeated 2 to 3 more times during the day.
My mother can, at this stage in life, take pride in the fact that her grandchildren have returned the favor.

Nap time

2009-01-14T21:39:00.003-05:00

An e-mail from Pat sent Nov. 5, 2007:

Why is it that when your child is napping peacefully on the couch you will sit down next to him to absorb the moment and the first thing that goes through your mind is "Thank freaking God he is out cold"? Is that a bad thing?

Another thing is that I will sit and watch the rest of "Little Ensteins" while he is sleeping. I want to know who the composer of the day is. I am officially a geek, and I am going to fold clothes now.

Abbey: 2008 in pictures

2009-01-14T21:00:00.007-05:00

Maggie-isms

2009-01-14T10:05:00.002-05:00

Maggie and I were walking around the neighborhood selling Girl Scout cookies (she's up to 91 boxes thanks to all of the family members we pressured into ordering), and she looks at the form and says - for at least the fifth time - "I wonder who Frail Mollie is."

And for at least the fifth time I explain to her that the form asks for your last name first. So who do you think it is?

"I bet it's Aunt Mollie. And I bet Oberle Kim is Aunt Kim. And that one's Grandma."

Suddenly it all clicked. Until the next day, when we had the same conversation again.

* * *

"Mom, can we listen to 'Shake Your Goofy' "? (As opposed to "Shake Your Groove Thing" - sung by the Chipmunks.)

Maggie: 2008 in pictures

2009-01-13T21:52:00.007-05:00

The universe is good again

2009-01-05T15:40:00.005-05:00

All is right with the universe today. The kids are back at school, and I am back at work. I realize that there are moms and dads who stay at home with the kids all day, every day. I do not. I crave the interaction with adults who have gotten through puberty, even if it is only for a few hours in the morning. I could not watch another movie on a rainy day, make another meal or do another load of laundry. I am sure that the only thing that got me through was playing Tiger Woods '09 on the Wii after they went to bed. In eleven years, I have not looked forward to any day more. I honestly started marking off the days on the calender like one of the kids looking forward to summer break. The kids were sick of me, and I was sick of them.

Conner: 2008 in pictures

2009-01-02T21:55:00.029-05:00

Here are some of my favorite photos of Conner from this year. I'll do the same for the girls in the next few days. There are a lot of photos to sort through!

Buzz kill

2008-12-31T17:03:00.004-05:00

An e-mail from Pat sent Sept. 5, 2008:

There are several sounds in this house that will send a chill through me. The crash of whatever Conner is playing with. The sound of Maggie whining or crying about something Conner or Abbey has done. In the interest of equality, Abbey telling us that we "just don’t understand."

There is also the sound of the water dripping in the bathroom sink. Yes, I will fix that at some point. The dogs barking at nothing at all. The sound of the fridge or the front door opening and then the lack of sound because they didn’t shut it. The sound of the flies that came in because of the door being left open. The sound of SpongeBob Squarepants and Scooby-Doo.

All of these sounds are bad and drive me insane, but there is only one that will take the wind right out of my sails. It is the sound of the buzzer on the dryer telling me there is ANOTHER damn load of clothes that needs to folded.

I need a big dog

2008-12-29T10:33:00.004-05:00

When a father has a pre-teen daughter, there is a point when a very large dog becomes a valid purchase. When I say large, I mean a dog the size of Hagrid's dog, Fang. A dog that is so big that feeding it will require a second job.

I have come to this day because of several things. The bras and panties in the laundry that are not my wife's. For all that is holy, can clothing manufacturers not make pre-teen panties with a little more coverage? The low-rider jeans that are entirely too tight. But the thing that drives me the most insane is the wandering eyes of the boys. Nothing to date has made me more likely to whack the boy du jour in the head than the wandering eyes. It was bad enough when the chest started showing up. I realize that this can't be stopped and she going to become a woman whether I like it or not. Since it is poor taste to harm the boys of the present and future, I think that a dog the size of a cougar would be the best idea.

Conner's Christmas List

2008-12-18T12:53:00.004-05:00

Batman (the person)
A monkey (a real one - not legal in this state, so not happening)
Legos
A real chainsaw (not happening)
A real train (not happening either)
A camera that works like Mom's
Eggs (because he just broke one on my pillow - don't ask, it's a story for another day)
My own remote for the TV
A cow
Steak (obviously the cow will not be a pet)
Doughnuts (everybody needs dessert, I guess)
A date with a girl in my class

Meltdown Wednesdays

2008-12-17T15:15:00.003-05:00

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to what we call Meltdown Wednesday. The children of the house are tired and generally in crappy moods on Wednesday. Since it has been raining for the last three days, they have been in the house and not able to go outside. This has not helped. Abbey is in middle school and is up early in the morning and doing homework as soon as she gets home. Pre-teen hormones are at a simmer for a couple of days early in the week, but between the hormones, the lack of sleep, homework and studying, she boils over on Wednesday. Conner is just into everything, and by mid-week he's bored and starts annoying Abbey. Most of the time I am good with this because this pre-teen nonsense is annoying, and her suffering means I'm not ... for now.
This glorious day has many great phrases in it, as well. One of my personal favorites is "There is no food in this house." In the interest of full disclosure, Cathy goes to the grocery store every single weekend. There's food; it's just not junk food. Another one is, "Are you going to do anything about Conner annoying me?" No, I am not going to stop it. Your mother and I kept having children until we had one to make your life completely miserable. Maggie don't have the stamina to annoy you all day, so we had Conner. Mission accomplished. I have never said this out loud, but damn it I want to.
This brings us to Maggie. This kid watches all of this happen around her and just soaks it in. She is the reason we have no food. While Abbey is complaining about the lack of food, Maggie is hunting and finding it. She watches the whining, moaning and the "You don't understand what it's like to be a kid" that goes on and just sits there. Maybe she's just waiting her turn to be a pre-teen and perfecting her 'tude.
You see, the rest of the world looks at Wednesday as hump day. The day that gets them that much closer to the weekend. We couldn't care less about the weekend. We just want get to bedtime without irrational crying or injuries.

Where did you hear that?

2008-12-05T07:11:00.002-05:00

From Maggie:

"Last one on the couch is road kill."

What happened to rotten eggs?

2008-11-21T14:31:00.004-05:00

I got home from work late last night and found this:

All I could think was, " 'Cause that's what you're supposed to do with Play-Doh and crayons."

The game's over

2008-11-20T11:12:00.003-05:00

I just found another stuffed animal, a chocolate Lab, in the cabinet under the kitchen sink.

We declared the Lab the winner of hide and seek.

PETA watch list

2008-11-19T14:41:00.006-05:00

My son is on the PETA watch list. The reason, you ask? It has nothing to do with his abuse of live animals or bad intentions toward live animals. It has to do with what he does to the stuffed animals in his room. Or so I thought.

Currently he has Tigger stuffed under the chair in the living room. Several of Maggie's Webkinz are in the freezer. Ord, from "Dragon Tales," is in the dishwasher. He has taken a very large panda bear and tied its hands together sitting in the living room (this one I helped with). He took his favorite bear in the world and put it on the ceiling fan (it wasn't running). Sadly, I didn't help with this one, and I am very interested in how it got there.

After I had located all the stuffed animals in their precarious places, I figured it would be a good time to have a talk about being nice to animals. I called him and he came out from the laundry room. I sat him down and told him that this is not how we treat animals, real or not. One of those father/son talks. I asked him why he was doing that to the animals, and he responded, "We were playing hide and seek." I asked about the animals' hiding places and the panda. Conner's response: "Stuffed animals can't walk, so I helped them, and the panda was it, silly." The reason for tying panda's hands: "To make it fair. He's bigger than them."

From Cathy:
What Pat didn't know when he wrote this was that earlier in the morning, Conner was making plans to cut the panda's head off with his chain saw. He settled for giving the bear a buzz cut and then cramming his much-too-small baseball helmet on its head.

BFD

2008-11-18T19:31:00.003-05:00

It is officially time to make a better effort at watching what I say around the boy. The girls have learned that when Dad says certain phrases or starts ranting like a sailor on leave, they probably shouldn't repeat that. I have made a great error with Conner. He was in the living room, and he had left his shoes and clothes in a pile after changing - something he no doubt learned from Abbey. I explained to him that they needed to be in the laundry room. When I say that I explained, I mean that I used a loud tone of voice. The tone that makes the neighbors feel that they need to call DSS. He looked at me without moving off the couch and said, "BFD, Dad, they are fine right there." Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Father of the Year.

Yuck

2008-11-13T18:17:00.002-05:00

A text message from Pat:

Maggie just wet willied Abbey. I'm going to pee on myself.

One guess who taught them how to do it. Hint: It wasn't me.

The dentist sucks

2008-11-13T12:31:00.007-05:00

In order to make a new mother happy, I have a story for ya.

A couple of days ago I took the girls to the dentist for their check-ups. There are a few things that drive me nuts about a dentist's office. The first thing is that the decor in the waiting room just looks expensive. The chairs are very comfortable, the paintings and artwork are stunning. The carpet always looks brand new. The bar where the receptionists sit has a granite countertop. You just get the feeling that this going to an expensive visit every time you walk in. The least they could do is make it look like you might get out of there for less than a grand.

The next is that they could have just a little something for the kids. I realize that they hand out toothbrushes, but they claim that they are a family dentist office. A TV wouldn't kill anyone. The auto repair shop has one and it's not a family auto repair shop. No, they have nothing, so when the Category 4 hurricane that is my son made landfall at the office (with no TV), it was not a good thing. The upside is that they will get you in and out in a hurry.

The girls were the only ones getting teeth cleanings and X-rays done, so they took them at the same time. These are not dumb people. Conner had crawled under a chair and reappeared in between some high school girl's legs, popped his head up and just said "Hello." After that incident, it was all about getting the storm to move on.

Abbey's appointment went well. No cavities, but some fragments of baby teeth hanging around. They will be pulled next week. The dentist, receptionist and her parents have told her that it will be very little pain before, during and after. When this is proven to be a load of crap, which it is, look out Winston-Salem.

Maggie's appointment sucked. This is not a term that you will hear a dentist use. They should, but they don't. Not a lot of humor in a dentist's office. Maggie has no cavities but is missing 7 adult teeth. I saw the X-ray and the damn things just aren't there. So when the baby teeth fall out, she is out of luck for a natural replacement. She will be in braces early to move some teeth forward and will have implants for the spaces that can't filled.

I talked to the dentist for several minutes about this, and I asked him to ballpark the overall cost. He was thinking 12 grand give or take. For the love of god, our car and van aren't worth that.

The last thing that you do before you leave is write the check. It's normally a big check, and to make matters worse, they insist on making another apppointment for the girls so that they can get another check-up. Someone has to pay for the Queen Anne chair and one-of-a-kind Andy Warhol.

One of our kids had better be a dentist or we have to find a dentist willing to do work at cost.

Abbey's prediction

2008-11-04T11:19:00.002-05:00

When Abbey got up this morning, she came into our room, sat down at the computer and looked at ESPN.com.

"Yes! The Steelers won."

Why is that good, I asked?

"Because every time the Redskins lose the night before an election, the White House changes parties."

Guess we know which candidate she's pulling for.

Point Taken

2008-10-29T16:09:00.001-04:00

An e-mail from Feb. 15, 2008.
It seems that you are trying to make a point to me. You have left your shoes in the dining room for the last few days. At first I thought that this was just that you were tired from work. Second I thought that you were just being lazy. Both very valid but not it. It finally hit me what your point is. You are trying to tell me to get my golf clubs out of the dining room, aren't you? Personally I think that they lend themselves to the decor. I keep them clean, and the bag is colorful. I was going for the golf/traditional home look. Hey, this is thought for a magazine. We could get the cover story. The reason I leave them there is that the kids leave their stuff everywhere and I am sick of fighting it, so I am joining them. Just remember that it is clean under the clutter. The more stuff we leave in the floor, the less we have to sweep the floor.
Also, it helps me because when I clean this crap off the floor, the kids are always yelling that they can't find their stuff.

Milestone not reached yet

2008-10-22T14:05:00.005-04:00

Over the last 11 years, we have seen may milestones in our children's lives. Learning to sleep through the night, walk, talk (a little overrated), use the potty, run, get dressed on their own (very underrated), read, write and various other things. One that is very important to me is learning to swing without being pushed. There is nothing that drives me more nuts than the pushing of the swing. This boy can ride a scooter, hit a baseball, punt a football, climb a tree and jump off the countertop. Conner has not mastered swinging yet. He will, but in the meantime the girls and I have tried everything. Maggie has tried swinging next to him to visually teach him. He just sits there and stares and then calls me to push. Abbey, being the smart one, has tried to explain it to him by using scientific terms. This didn't work. Hell, I didn't even understand it, but it sounded very intelligent. I am pretty sure he is just lazy about this. Once they learn to swing, there is a whole world of things that open up for the parent. I have seen other parents at the playground talking to each other while their kids swing on their own. I'm not real sure I want to talk to them, but the option would be nice. You can mow more than 30 feet of the yard at one time. For God's sake, I could actually sit down. It wouldn't happen, but I have a goal.

Conner's trip

2008-10-15T10:10:00.004-04:00

An e-mail from Pat from Nov. 5, 2007 (Conner had just turned 3):
Your son decided that he needed a little adventure trip today. On this trip he experienced new friends, obstacles, darkness and danger. He traveled under our bed.
The new friends that he met are the dust bunnies, and there were a whole colony. Bunnies multiply quickly even if they are dust bunnies. He found several golf balls and, a few pairs of winter gloves that belong to someone outside this house 'cause I have never seen them before.
He got to travel around all the forgotten shoes you and I have. I think I had 1 pair and you, of course, had 15. He obviously experienced darkness because I could hear his head hitting the box springs 10 or 15 times. No one said that he was going to be bright.
Finally he got to meet danger head on because somehow he got in a sitting position that only a yoga master could do and got stuck. His head was inside the box spring and he was very calmly yelling at the top of his lungs, " I AM STUCK DADDY, HELP ME NOW!"
I had to get under the bed and make sure that his head was not next to a spring or if he was already hurt. I am sure that I looked like the witch in the "Wizard of Oz."
After I got a picture of the situation underneath I lifted the bed up and he came out pretty easily. He then decreeded to all that "I not going to do that again."
In the words of the oldest child, Conner learned yet another life lesson. Time will tell if he has much of a long-term memory.

Dad's helper

2008-10-08T17:12:00.006-04:00

I have the great fortune to be at home most of the day with Conner. He and I do a lot of stuff in and out of the house. This afternoon, he and I cleaned the gutters. Usually it's just me, the ladder and him talking to me. Today was a little different. I was on the roof, in the back of the house, cleaning the gutters and sweeping off the shingles. This section of the roof is easily walked on, and I can see the whole backyard while he plays. It takes about 10 minutes. After I finished, I turned around and Conner was on the roof. It seems that a 4-year-old can scale a ladder without much noise. In order to not scare him, I just said "Hi." Make no mistake, I was scared enough for both of us. He replied, "I'm here to help." I told him that I was finished, but he was not having it. He wanted to help, and I was not interested in a blue-balled hissy-fit 15 feet off the ground. I told him he had to sit on his butt to clean out the gutter, and I held on to his pants with all I had. We cleaned a leaf or two out of the gutters. It seemed to pacify him, and he was ready to get down. I went first, and he very effortlessly got on the ladder and climbed down in front of me. When we got on the ground, I told him not to do that again. He replied, "It's not a problem. I got up and I got down." From this day forward, cleaning the gutters will have to involve at least two adults on site.

Conner is "Calvin"

2008-10-08T10:38:00.004-04:00

This is what it's like trying to get Conner to go to bed every night. Just repeat four or five times.

http://www.gocomics.com/calvinandhobbes/2008/10/08/

All soccer, all the time

2008-10-05T20:53:00.009-04:00

The girls had three games, plus we went to the UNC-Wake women's game. It was a good weekend - the girls won all of their games, and so did UNC. I'm exhausted.

The estrogen ocean

2008-10-02T20:59:00.003-04:00

This e-mail is from Aug. 22, 2008. In addition to our kids, our 9-year-old niece, Emma, was here, and so was Abbey's best friend, Elisabeth, who's 11.

Thank God we can’t have any more kids. There are several reasons. I just cooked 3 packs of hot dogs and 2 boxes of mac and cheese. I swear to you it was like a pack of wolves attacking an antelope. They are talking and shoveling food at the same time. I am not getting into the dishes that were used.
The next reason is that if we had more kids they would be girls. Here comes the soapbox section.
I am in a house with 4 pre-teen girls and the boy; two of these are not ours, but they are here. I have listened to fashion, which Jonas Brother is cutest, and something about it seems that Miley Cyrus is a little trashy these days. Conner is packing his stuff as we speak. The level of female hormones in this house is critically high. A truck just arrived with people in spacesuits to rope off the house. It’s like a scene from "ET." Duke Energy just called and would like to harness the hormones as alternative power for the city. I was just notified that our house is restricted airspace because of hormone glow. It is causing problems for Air Care and commuter flights.
Girls are nuts. They will run and play rough, and when someone gets hurt they are soft and compassionate. Boys will knock you on your butt and stand over you waiting for the next opportunity to knock you on your butt.
These girls don’t want to called kids; they’re pre-teens. Also, make sure that you say pre-teen with the exact amount of attitude. I liked it better when there were only two categories of people: adult and children. Now you can be an infant, baby, toddler, preschooler, pre-k, child, pre-teen, teenager, young adult, almost adult, adult, DINK, middle age, over the hill, retired, senior and finally old as an apostle. From this day forward you are a kid or an adult in this house. I realize that this mandate carries no weight, but I like the sound of my own voice sometimes.
I need to go. I just heard Conner yell for help. Mind you, I am not helping him. I am just going to watch them torture him. It’s his own damn fault. He put his head into the lion's mouth by getting too close. Typical pre-k mistake.

Tough as nails

2008-10-02T16:41:00.005-04:00

Just for the record, our children are 50% tough and 50% drama queens and king. On this day, Maggie is 100% tough. She has been complaining that her front tooth is loose and it hurts. Today she just couldn't take it anymore. Being the sensitive one of the house, I suggested that she lie on the ground and I would take a 3-wood and remove it for her. When that was nixed, I came up with letting Conner take it out with his shovel. She was not impressed with my ideas. She was not amused at all. All I got was, "Dad. Fine, I'll just do it." She sat in the living room and placed her finger in her mouth, and with one jerk she removed it. She didn't cry at all. She went to the kitchen, got a paper towel and stopped the bleeding. Maggie placed it in our room and went back to playing in the yard. When she told Abbey that she pulled her tooth, Abbey just said, "Cool." She is not as impressed with this display as I am. Abbey is in one of her "pissed off at the world" moods today. Forunately for the world, it is all directed at me.

"Oh, waiter ..."

2008-09-30T19:53:00.003-04:00

Here's an e-mail that Pat sent me on Feb. 27, 2008:

Your son just came into the kitchen and announced that he is ready to order his lunch. Yes, he literally walked into the kitchen and said, "I want to order my lunch." So I proceeded like any good server and asked what he would like. His order was clear and precise. "I would like peanut butter sandwich, no peanut butter, chips and fruit loops. Apple juice in a cup with a blue straw." He sat down at the table and waited for his order to be filled. Let's just add that this is nicest he has been since school ended this morning.

I made his order to his exact specs and brought it to the table. He sat quietly and ate his lunch. He finished and walked up to me and reached into his pocket and gave me a quarter. He said," This is for you." After I got my day's wages, I asked him to clean up the table, and he reached into his pocket and gave me a penny and said, "You do it." We really have to stop eating out so much.

Target practice

2008-09-29T13:24:00.005-04:00

Conner is in the living room practicing to become a quarterback. It is not going well at all. He went into Abbey's room and got 7 golf clubs. (Entering her room is something he will pay for later. I won't have to tell her; she'll know.) He jammed them between the seat cushions on the couch and loveseat and placed his miniature football helmets on top of the golf clubs. He has all of his footballs in a pile (4 of them), says " Set, GO!" and starts throwing them at his targets. The targets, the TV and the windows are safe. On the other hand, 2 lamps, 3 picture frames, 6 magazines and a bottle of water were hit. Maybe the golf club/football helmets were fans. Either way, his quarterback rating is a touch low for now, but it's a long season.

Looking for a beach with snow

2008-09-27T21:37:00.002-04:00

Conner walked into the living room with this outfit on (he dressed himself, as you might have guessed) and said, "I'm ready to play in the snow!" The funny thing is, I have no doubt he would go outside like this if there were snow on the ground right now.

"Not"

2008-09-20T20:57:00.004-04:00

Here's another "archive" e-mail that Pat sent me on Dec. 19, 2007:
Your son is disgusting. The entire ride home from getting the girls from school he kept saying he has "not." He repeated it over and over. Neither the girls nor I could figure it out. After we got home we got it. I unbuckled him from his carseat and he proceeded to run his nasty running nose across the front of my sweater. He then told me that I have "not." The Rugrats have not been on Nick much so I am not up on Chuckie lingo these days. I have introduced him to the tissues. I suggest wearing an apron when you arrive this evening because who knows if he will use the tissues.
By the way, Abbey is not feeling good, and I am sure that we will all pay for this at some point. Conner has already been subjected to the wrath of the sick one. Maggie and I have flipped a coin to see who has to talk to her next. She lost, so I am hiding.

Ryder Cup Addiction

2008-09-20T15:11:00.002-04:00

Nothing from me this weekend. I am completely involved in the Ryder Cup. You gotta love 11 straight hours of golf for 3 days. Boo Weekley is completely addictive. As for the kids, I am paying Abbey to watch them. Maybe she will have something to post.

The best what?

2008-09-20T14:41:00.003-04:00

"Mom, can I help you make brownies?"
"Not today, Conner."
"But I want some private time with you."

There's just no saying no to that. The next exchange:

"I'm the best stirrer."
"Yes you are, Conner."
"And you're the best dumper, Mom."

I'm not so sure I want that title. (For the record, that's because I dumped all the ingredients into the bowl.)

Hide and Seek

2008-09-18T14:21:00.007-04:00

Conner is fixing things around the house this afternoon. He has his hard hat on, his toolbox open and tools in his pockets. He doesn't have a toolbelt mostly because I have seen the butt crack for 4 years and he doesn't need help displaying it. He has been outside fixing things as well. Only moments ago he presented me with 8 screws. As I am sure anyone else would be, I was a touch concerned. I asked him where they came from and he told me, "I don't know." (The "I don't know" is also followed by a shoulder shrug. This is a stock answer and act that has been passed down from Abbey to the other two kids.) I searched the house for anything that could be missing screws and found nothing. I decided that they must have been in his toolbox. I asked him again, and he told me they came from outside. Now I am in an advanced game of hide and seek. We looked the lawnmower over, the picnic table, the storm door and the grill. I asked him about a few more things, and he would either say "No" or "I don't know." I found out as I sat down in disgust. They came from the bench in the front yard. Sitting on it and having the left side collapse as I crashed to the ground was a whole heap of fun. Conner is still laughing in the front yard.

Who's the adult?

2008-09-18T12:58:00.004-04:00

An e-mail from Pat, sent July 16, 2007:
You son just pantsed me. He loved it. He actually laughed until he fell down - one of those belly laughs. Neither of the girls are taking credit for his new knowledge. Being the adult of the house and the level-headed person that I am, I pantsed him back. He ran into the other room and told Abbey, like a good little snitch. Abbey came to me and told me not to do that anymore and it is not fair to do that to him since he is little. I actually felt bad even though I explained that he did it first. Apparently the adult of the house when you are not here is Abbey.

Give it back!

2008-09-15T19:25:00.004-04:00

For the past few years, Pat has sent me e-mails at work to tell me what's going on at home. We ran many of those e-mails in the News & Record on Father's Day 2007. I'm going to post some of those here and add others that no one has seen. They're just too funny to keep to myself.

This was one of my favorites. It was dated June 3, 2008.

As I am sure you know, we have bulky item pickup this week. We have our usual pile of assorted crap, or so I think until it is gone through by the ladies of the house. Conner, on the other hand, did not seem to care about any of the items until today.

The garbage men had arrived and were taking the stuff and throwing it into the truck. Conner was watching at the window. He had his lunch and his drink. He was settled in for some serious man time. It all changed when they took the beanbag chair and tossed into the truck. He jumped from his couch and tore out the door. He is only wearing shorts. He ran to the back of the truck and yelled at the guys. They could not hear him at first so he bent down and he yelled, "THAT'S MINE, I WANT IT BACK."

The garbage man looked confused and asked another man what to do. The other man looked him in the face and told him "If the boy wants his chair back, get in there and get it.” He got in and threw it out, and they gave it to Conner and he dragged it back into the house.

Just for the record, he did say thank you. You are also three Diet Cokes short from this morning. He tried to give them a couple of beers. He walked in the house and explained to me that it was his and not to throw it away. He is sitting on it in the living room with his lunch.

Wasn't part of the plan

2008-09-15T12:45:00.000-04:00

Conner just took all the cushions off the couch and placed them on the floor in front of the ottoman. He also took all the clean clothes out of the laundry basket and piled them on top of the cushions. I came around the corner from the kitchen to find this display. He was on the back of the couch, standing, and yelling 1-2-3 go. He jumped very gracefully to the springs on the couch and that was where the grace ended. He hit the springs clean with both feet. He was not counting on the massive air he got from jumping from 3 feet to couch springs. Honestly he could have gotten back to his original position on the back of the couch. He actually flipped in the air and landed on the ottoman, butt 1st, and bounced into the clothes-cushion safety area he created. This all happened in about 2 seconds. It was not pretty to watch. It was nothing but arms and legs flapping and a very loud "WWOOOOWWOOO." After looking him over and with all my years of med school I determined that he was fine. I asked him what he was thinking and he replied "Not that, I just wanted to bounce." I asked him if he was going to do it again and he said "Not today, maybe tomorrow." Cathy needs a job at home 'cause I'm gonna need help with this one.

We're UNC, too

2008-09-13T20:36:00.000-04:00

Pat may love Notre Dame, but the rest of us are saying "Go Heels!"

We are Notre Dame

2008-09-13T19:37:00.000-04:00

During the Notre Dame game this afternoon I explained to Abbey one of the family rules. We are a Notre Dame football family. This is not a negotiable rule. I get to make so few rules. Cathy went to UNC and I just don't care. I told Abbey that it didn't matter what college or university she went to. She isn't going to Notre Dame. I work part-time and Cathy is a journalist. State universities are in her future. Believe me though, if ND football comes to any school one of my kids goes to, I will be a card-carrying, sweatshirt-wearing, pulling-for-the-Irish homer. If I could get away with it the kids would have a "Play Like a Champion" sign at the door and they would have to touch it before school everyday. Abbey immediately says, "What happens if Conner is playing football for UNC or State and the Irish come to town?" I just sat there and said, "That would be different, maybe." I really hate that the girl gets height from me and brains from Cathy.

Believe me I know

2008-09-12T13:43:00.001-04:00

First of all, I am Pat Frail. I'm the father of the clan of children. I work part-time in the morning and hang out with the kids in the afternoon. I have done this since our 1st was born. For several years I have asked for and taken truck loads of advice and statements on parenting. I have even been open to the advice and statements I didn't ask for. Some of the advice is good and some not so much. I, however, would like to ask for relief from one thing. I have had enough of the "it gets worse" advice from the parents that have children older than whatever child I am with at the time. I know it gets worse. I know that the raging hormones of Abbey's (11) are only at the beginning and it gets worse. I know that Maggie (7) is going to be a diva and it gets worse. I know that Conner (4) wants to play baseball and it gets worse. I was not dropped into this family this morning. I have not been on an 11 year vacation. I have been around these kids since their birth. I know that it gets worse. I realize that parents with older children are trying to make conversation, be sarcastic or are just enjoying your pain. Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop telling me it gets worse. I got it. Just once I would like to hear "it gets better." Just those three words, not "you're gonna miss this." I am not going to miss the hormones, buying clothes and baseball equipment.

What is Camp Frail?

2008-09-11T21:43:00.001-04:00

Camp Frail was an acronym we created for our family using the first letter of each of our names: Cathy, Abbey, Maggie and Pat. (It also reflects what our house is like a lot of the time.) When Conner came along, we decided the C would pull double duty. But no, we didn't choose his name based on the first letter.