20 Questions Tuesday: 149 - Tuesday

20 Questions Tuesday time again, and since this is the weekly post I have promised, it is most likely the only post you are gonna get this week. Deal with it, I am a busy man.

This week the topic for today’s 20 Questions Tuesday is, well… Tuesday.

Thanks this week go to ACW, Lsig, Dr Clean, Capt McArmypants, Guido, Some Other Guy, and Wifey. On to the questions!

1. Why the name Tuesday? By our calendar it’s obviously the third day of the week not the second.
It is named after a Norse god.

2. What ever happened to the ‘two for Tuesday’ specials at restaurants and on the radio?
The economy tanked so no more two-fers in retail, but I am not sure about the radio thing.

3. Will Halloween ever be on a Tuesday?
Sure, why not?

4. When was Tuesday invented?
A long long time ago. I was not able to find anything definitive about when the septological week was set up. I think it goes back to moon cycles and then divisions within the moon cycles. So each 28 day moon cycle is divided into 4 weeks or 7 days each with a set of celebratory time set off at the end of the year to get everything back up to 52 weeks and 365 days. The powers that be made the 7 days of the week match up with seven celestial bodies that they felt should be revered. Not sure why Tuesday was assigned the 3rd day of the week.

5. Is the Tuesday after a long weekend (Monday off) just as bad as a normal Monday?

6. Why is "Tuesday" the only day of the week to be commonly used as a woman's name?
Let’s run through the days.
Sunday = holy day, bit presumptuous to name you little one after a typically holy day
Monday = no one like Mondays, why would one decide to shackle you kid with that moniker
Wednesday = Addam’s family kind of ruined that one, and I am pretty sure I would not want my little girl associated heavily with “Hump Day”

7. What is your normal Tuesday routine?
Get up, get the boy ready for school and the girl ready for childcare. Have some breakfast and get the boy to school. Search for jobs, get some lunch, do some graphic design stuff, pick the boy up from school, get dinner ready, start bed-time rituals, rinse and repeat. Stunning, no?

8. Monday is the start of the week and has a bad reputation (somebody’s got a case of the Mondays!), Wednesday is hump day and must be endured, Friday is happy hour day, Thursday is the new Friday…what the hell is Tuesday?
Tuesday is innocuous. It is the time of the work week when people actually get stuff done. Tuesday is the day of performance.

9. Is Tuesday’s child really full of grace?
Yes. Well one of them

10. Is Super Tuesday really super or is it just hype?
It is a bit of hype.

11. Do “Voices Carry” better on a Tuesday….shut up!
Hush, hush. Keep it down now
Voices Carry…

Yes, they do

12. Black Tuesday (Stock Market Crash of 1929) and Sept. 11th versus Fat Tuesday…is Tuesday a bad or good day?
It is definitely a good or a bad day, it just depends on what happens that particular Tuesday.

13. Statistically, 40% of workplace absences occur on Monday or Friday, but only 20% occur on Tuesdays, why is that?
That all has to do with adjacency to the weekend.

14. Some people declare Sunday the beginning of the week, Others Monday. I'm in the Monday crowd because Tuesday sounds like 2sday. You?
I am a traditionalist about Tuesday being the 3rd day of the week. The day starts with Sunday in my book.

15. Who or what is Tuesday named after?
Tuesday is named after the Norse god of war, Tyr. Initially it was something like Dei Mars because it was the day celebrating the planet mars or the Roman god of war. When the calendar was translated to English, for some reason the days of the week were translated to the Germanic deities.

16. Any other significance to Tuesday than 20 Questions Tuesday for you?

17. What TV, if any, intrigues you on Tuesdays?
Nova on PBS is sometimes really good, but nothing every week.

18. What is you favorite thing to do on a Tuesday afternoon?

19. Tuesday.com was taken by some kind of creative types. That isn’t a question… more of a comment, the fuckers.
I know what you mean. I totally looked for web addresses and Tuesday.com was taken.

20. So what is your favorite part of Tuesday (and yes, I am talking about your Wife here, and you had better answer and answer right if you don’t want to be sleeping on the couch, bub!)?
I love your eyes, babycakes! When you smile they light up.

To recap:
I have a nasty headache here
Not a pine marten headache
But a headache none the less
All the kids are doing well
Faux soy sauce is kind of soy-ish, but a bit more faux-ish than I would like
Man my head is killing me
Chicken and barley soup for dinner
No faux soy sauce, that was last night
Listening to the “It’s Called Football” podcast

12 Things

So, yesterday was mine and Wifey's 12th anniversary. Yep we are working on a baker's dozen in matrimony. So today is 12 things about our marriage.

Thing the First:
You always have my back... even when you are dragging me kicking and screaming... I am not sure how you do it, yet you do do it.... I said "do do."

Thing the Second:

Our musical tastes have converged over time... don't get me wrong she still is all about Ani DiFranco and I still listen to Tool, but there are waaaaay more similarities now

Thing the Third:
Only since Q was born have we had "assigned" sides to the bed. When we kick Q out of the bed, I imagine those assignments will be done with as well.

Thing the Fourth:
I cook and she bakes... I can whip things up in the kitchen, but she is much better at the measured success that is necessary for baking.

Thing the Fifth:
Sorry, Capt McArmypants, but you were supplanted as my best friend soon after Wifey and I started dating.

Thing the Sixth:
Our marriage has so far outlived one of the marriage cats.

Rest in Peace, Lenny

Thing the Seventh:
Since being married we have lived in 3 different places all within about 5 blocks of each other.

Thing the Eighth:

She likes to bathe in the evening and I like to shower in the morning... that worked great until we had kids, no the bathing is catch as we can.

Thing the Ninth:
We have reached a tipping point in the marriage, from no one we will have been married with kids longer than without kids. Yikes!

Thing the Tenth:
I really feel like it is only going to get better. We are on the cusp of greater stuff, babe!

Thing the Eleventh:
Little Man and Q are the best things ever.

Thing the Twelfth:
I am the luckiest bastard ever, and there are throngs, throngs I tell you, of people willing to corroborate that story.

To recap:
Q seems to like the turkey bacon
I feel kind of like I am betraying bacon
I'm sorry bacon, you just have too much un-health in you
This post was harder than I thought it would be
It is difficult to come up with 12 things about a relationship, that aren't just about the partner
Listening to Tainted Love by Soft Cell... on purpose

Digital Thursday

A bit of a different theme for Digital Thursday this week. A friend of the family recently offered to do a photo shoot for Q. It was his gift to the family to celebrate her birth and he also said "he needed more photoshoot practice with babies." I am not too sure how much he really needed more photo practice, but that is a different story indeed.

Anyway, we got the pics yesterday and they are digital, therefore.... DIGITAL THURSDAY!

We were looking through these amazing images he had captured for us and wanted to know how much it would have set us back had we been paying customers. We went to his web-site and were appalled by the lack of expense (you kind of have to dig to get to the pricing). So, if you are in the Columbus area and want some really high quality portraits taken, Wifey and I heartily suggest using our friend.

Little Man doing the 5 year old toothy smile squint.

Wifey and Q in a chair. (I am quite effective at titles)


Q on green

To recap
My shiny version of Dr Doom will be ready for next week's Digital Thursday
Little Man's 5th birthday is tomorrow
Where has the time gone
I am very happy that the Muppets are making their web presence felt
There are a couple of puns in that last sentence
They may have been intentional
They may have been happenstance
Intentional = Comedic Genius
Happenstance = Lucky
You decide if they were intentional or not
Listening to Firestarter by Prodigy
Have a great weekend everyone

20 Questions Tuesday: 73 - Interview with Wifey

Okay, here I am at home without having forwarded any of my questions from my venerable questioners.

Instead of my typical 20 Questions Tuesday, I am being “interviewed” by Wifey. Here we go.

1. If you could only visit one website for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Amazon.com I could still purchase most things that I have become so accustomed to purchasing.

2. Is there any Star Wars character you secretly don’t like, even though everyone else thinks they are awesome? (Chewbacca is the one for me. Quit freaking yodeling you furry weirdo!)
Mace Windu. Samuel L Jackson’s performance was wooden, and the character was a doofus. Purple light saber? More like pink, Captain Dies-So-Easy

3. What were the candidates for the blog’s previously potential name change?
The Force is Not Strong with This One and Economy of Motion were the 2 front runners

4. Do you think we are having a boy or a girl? (and don’t answer “Yes, we are going to have a boy or a girl.”)
Depends on the day. One day I feel like Little Man will have a little brother and other days I think he will have a little sister.

5. TRON, please explain.
If you have to ask, it cannot be xplained. Plus you don’t really like the acting stylings of Bruce Boxlightner or Jeff Bridges. What’s up with that?

6. Have you ever held a grudge? I hold a grudge like a rabid wolverine. Your best friend still holds a grudge from you getting orange cream-cicles in kindergarten when everyone else had to have chocolate ice cream cups.
Hmmm… I guess my apathy outweighs my, uh…lack of apathy? What the hell is “lack of apathy?”

7. What are you vain about?
My humor. I know that I shouldn’t be vain about it, but, damn, I feel that I am funny, by gum! Granted, I understand that humor doesn’t work every time, but I really think I am pretty funny.

8. Dude, we’re out growing our house, and we are adding a baby to it. What gives?
We are trying to reallocate some of that space right now. Kitchen addition = bigger kitchen with new office and using the 3rd bedroom as a nursery. People get by with more people in less space all the time.

9. Come on! Give them something they don’t know about you.
That isn’t even a question! I don’t like pistachio pudding.

10. Three wishes, what are they?
Wish 1: hmmmm…
Wish 2: uhhhh…
Wish 3: errrrrm…
Are these like monkey’s paw wishes? Or beneficial Barbara Eden-esque genie from I Dream of Genie wishes? I need more information before I can make these wishes. Monkey’s Paw wishes take very specific wording while I Dream of Genie wishes take good intentions and tickling

11. Have you ever been jealous?

12. How much money would it take to get you to streak down our street completely naked?
Hmmm, do I get to choose conditions? Time of day? Time of year? That kind of stuff? Again, I need more information before I can place a price on my dignity.

13. Hey, you haven’t answers the last couple of questions. That’s not okay!
My blog, my rules. You want things different? Start posting on yours again. Plus, I answered Number 11.

14. Do you think I could drive a minivan? That is clearly where we are heading and you know about my depth perception.
Yes, you could, but you don’t think you could. There are other alternatives. We could always leave one kid at home to fend for him/herself. We have to start this one early.

15. When am I getting my granola bars?
I don’t know. I ordered them about a month ago and they aren’t ready yet. Something about oat shipments and the price of tea in China.

16. Your parents, seriously, what is with them? And make it funny, Laugh-Boy!
Hmmm… imagine a bull, a penguin, a moose, and a hula hoop. There. Get it? Oh, and the movie TRON. It should all make so much more sense now.

17. How are you like your dad?
Damn, woman, these questions just took a bad turn. I would have to say, proportions. I have a longer torso than legs. Thanks, Dad!

18. How are you like your mom?
You are a cold bitch to ask that. A cold cold bitch! I don’t even know who you are anymore. My coloring.

19. Any movie you have always wanted to see?
Always? That is a pretty long time. I would have to go back and one day decide to actually watch E.T. Yes, That’s right! I have never watched E.T. And now, even though I am interested in seeing the movie, I have to go through life not seeing it. It is a mission now.

20. Am I forgiven about the doughnut debacle from Sunday? They aren’t even real doughnuts!
Of course. Still I was surprised you did not mention them earlier. They are quite tasty.

To Recap:
More timely post tomorrow
Sorry for the tardiness today
Happy New Year all
Wow, that is a short recap


So Friday night the fam decided to go to dinner at a local Bar-B-Que place. We figured that since Mimma was attached to a walker due to her knee surgery a restaurant with only 1 step would be a good idea. The meal came and it was delightful. I had a pulled pork sandwich, Wifey, a Bar-B-Que salad, Little Man had a Hamburger, and Mimma worked on some ribs. A delightful meal indeed. The meal was over and it was time for the fam to go its separate ways. Mimma was going to her house, much to Little Man’s chagrin, and the rest of us were going to our house. Fairly mundane stuff.

Mimma parked on the opposite side of the restaurant so we parted inside and headed to our respective cars. Once we got outside, Wifey said to me, “Hey, it’s a Friday night and since my mom is using a walker she is pretty vulnerable right now. I am going to go walk her to her car.”

“Sure thing, Honey.” I replied without so much another thought. I had Little Man’s hand and we were both trekking to our car a few rows of vehicles away. We get to the car, and I buckle Little Man’s seat belt and think, “Did I just send my pregnant little wife to ‘protect’ somebody? Because, you know, she's kind of an easy mark as well being all small and pregnant... at the same time.”

I am quite the chivalrous fellow.

To recap:
A shit-ton of people have been hitting the blog looking for images of Theodore from the Chipmunks
It must be due to the new movie coming out
Tomorrow is Little Man’s Christmas Hootnanny at preschool
There will be cookies
I know this because Wifey and Little Man are making them right now
The Wendy’s Chili experiment mentioned on Thursday’s post was a success
Wow, tasted just like Wendy’s chili
And did it make a lot
Tomorrow’s 20 Questions is about the holiday season

Don't ask

For the past 4+ years Wifey and I have been getting the same question: “So when are you going to have the next one?” Which is a similar question to the one we had been getting for the previous 5 years: “So, when are you two going to start a family.” The only time in our marriage when people were not willing to ask us about when we were going to have a/nother kid was when Wifey was visibly pregnant. The questions started in the receiving line at our wedding and have continued (and still do since Wifey is not obvious about her pregnanciness just yet). This post is for everyone who has asked us these questions and is asking other couple’s these questions. In a word, “Stop.”

In more than a word…

Getting pregnant is a tricky business. For some it is a cake walk (16 year olds in the back seat of a car) and for others it takes extra measures. Since it is such a personal decision to have children the emotions wrapped up in the process can run pretty high. When you ask someone “When are you going to have kids?” you are pre-supposing that the people you are asking Number 1: want kids, Number 2: can have them, and more importantly Number 3: haven’t been actively and unsuccessfully trying for some lengthy period of time.

Wifey and I were lucky enough to start the creation of Little Man rather quickly. I think Little Man’s zygotic self started out the second month after Wifey stopped with the oral contraception. This new Little Bundle has been a bit more difficult to start up.

Our most recent endeavor to expand the family started in August of 2006. In December 2006, Wifey’s gall bladder started acting up. So we had to determine what was the cause of this. A few tests later it was determined that a tumor was in her liver impinging the ducts from her gall bladder thus negatively affecting her ability to inject bile into her digestive system and break down fats efficiently. The issue that the surgeon wanted us to determine was if the tumor was hormonally affected, that meant stopping the whole baby-making process for a few months. “So, when are you two planning on having another?” What I said, “Oh, I don’t know, one seems to be more than we can handle at the moment, I would hate to think what two would do to me.” Then I would give a polite laugh. What I thought, “Well, you see, we can’t try at the moment because my wife has a tumor with a static growth rate unless it is bombarded by hormones and then it grows like a baby elephant on crack, and the only way we can make sure that it is not hormonally induced is by doing some sort of wait and see puppet show… grumble grumble grumble.”

Fast forward to March 07 when we were cleared by the surgeon to do the hibbity-jibbity for the purpose of baby-making. Nothing happened between March and June, well…. Not nothing, if you know what I mean… wink, wink, nudge, nudge, A wink’s as good as a nudge to a blind bat. Know what I mean? Know what I mean? But it was in May/Jun that Wifey really started taking stock in how her cycle lined up with what the Intertubes presented as the typical cycle. It looked like the amount of time between when she ovulated and the time that Aunt Flow came to town was a little on the short side. Her Luteal phase (implantation window), as the medical and trying-to-get-pregnant Internet community call it, was a few days short but not completely out of the realm of possibility for getting pregnant. So, to help our chances, Wifey went on Clomid to help extend her luteal phase. Nothing really happened in June. “So, when are you two planning on having another?” What I said, “Oh, I don’t know, one seems to be more than we can handle at the moment, I would hate to think what two would do to me.” Then I would give a polite laugh. What I thought, “Oh, we have been trying thankyouverymuch, but it is not working like we had planned. I was wondering if you could kick me in my teeth too, or maybe knee me in the groin. Thanks for bringing up this subject that is intensely personal and none of your damn business.”

July was a different story. July Wifey and I got ourselves pregnant. Some of you are doing the math right now and realizing that July was more than 8 weeks ago. A few days before Little Man’s fourth birthday, Wifey had a miscarriage. It was devastating. It was like a punch to the gut. We had let a few of our friends know and had shared the happy news with family. We had to retract that happiest of news and replace it with pretty crappy news. We were well on our way beyond hopeful. I had started looking for the onesies that make me think of “newborn.” Wifey had ordered some maternity stuff that was on clearance. We were integrating the idea of a new one in the household. That didn’t happen, but a bunch of melancholy and morose moping did occur. We had to wait for at least 2 more months before trying again. “So, when are you two planning on having another?” What I said, “Oh, I don’t know, one seems to be more than we can handle at the moment, I would hate to think what two would do to me.” Then I would give a polite laugh. What I was thinking, “Fuck off! You have no idea how insensitive that ‘innocuous’ question really is. I should ask you when you are getting your car re-painted and then go and key it. Now I am going to go find an empty conference room and try not to weep while I am at work… jackass.”

The big issue that came up during all of this is that the luteal phase really hadn’t extended since the medication… that crazy-making medication had been taken. So, Wifey changed OBGyn’s in September due to a change in insurance providers, and asked to try out adding progesterone supplements to her regimen and increase her luteal phase that way. Well, it seems that the luteal phase extended enough in October for us to be in the pregnancy column again. Then around the same time in her cycle as the miscarriage occurred, Wifey gets some cramping and a little bit of bleeding. Our first thoughts were, “Oh shit! Not again.” The new OB takes this very seriously and orders all sorts of diagnostics to get done. Wifey gets a boatload of blood-work done and for three weeks in a row we have ultrasounds take place. “So, when are you two planning on having another?” What I said, “Oh, I don’t know, one seems to be more than we can handle at the moment, I would hate to think what two would do to me.” Then I would give a polite laugh. What I was thinking, “Everything is hanging in a balance, think only positive thoughts such that only good will happen, pay no attention to the insensitivities of others and let them ask their boorish questions like they are rhinos in a china closet. They do not realize how invading and demoralizing their question is. You are a lake, a placid lake filled with happy waters surrounded by peaceful snow capped mountains and, it seems, asses who want to know all your personal shit… happy lake…. Happy Frikkin Lake Damnit!”

Last week, we got the fourth ultrasound in a week and everything seems to be progressing along typically for someone in their seventh week (now eighth week) of pregnancy. We decided in the doctor’s parking lot to handle this pregnancy as if none of the crap leading up to it had occurred. So now, it has become public knowledge. “So, when are you two planning on having another?” What I said, “It turns out that Wifey is pregnant right now, but you need to know that the question you just asked is very insensitive and really none of your business.” What I was thinking, “It turns out that Wifey is pregnant right now, but you need to know that the question you just asked is very insensitive and really none of your damn business.”

FYI: The correct question is, "Are you planning on having kids?" or "Are you planning on having more kids." Associate no time frame with it, and definitely no implicit expectations.

To recap:
Wifey and Little Man didn’t get out of their pajamas all day yesterday
If we didn’t need to go to the grocery store for dinner supplies
Tomorrow’s 20 questions shall be about adding to the family
Enjoyment shall be had by all
I got some new shoes this weekend
Yea! Me!
Yesterday, Little Man actually napped
With his eyes closed and sleeping and everything
It was very odd
And wonderful because I napped as well
I am not sure what will be for dinner tonight

The Meme to Come

So Wifey and I have been tagged with the nearly universal "8 things" meme that is going around the Internet like influenza during WWI. We decided that we were going to attack it from a different angle and post for each other in our respective blogs. So, later today/tonight Wifey (aka ZanyMama) will be posting 8 things people don't know about me and I will be doing the same on her blog. We are planning on writing these at the smae time and posting them simultaneously so as not to bias each other.

I have a baaad feeling about this...

To recap:
Wifey will be posting here sometime tonight
I am scared
I am very scared
No really
I always mistype "scared" as "sacred"
That will change the meaning of a sentence and make me look rather full of myself
Weekend was great
Especially after Wifey got home
Tomorrow's 20 Questions Tuesday will be all about the 4th of July
That flutter you just felt? That was a flutter of excitement and anticipation
Or, it could also be that you have been eating waaay too much grease and you heart is starting to fail
One of the two

W: 23 of 26

Ah, the 11th installment of the More Than Random Alphabet of SRH. Since Wifey is in town today, I have defaulted to the normal “randomly ask Wifey for a letter” method of letter generation. Today’s letter ended up being “W.” The 23 rd letter, W, is one of the later additions to our alphabet. It was added to denote the soft “V” sound which makes me wonder why it is not referred to as “doubleV, but that is beside the point.

W: W… w… w… Willy Waterloo is washing Warren Wiggens who is washing Waldo Woo

(Who said Dr. Seuss wasn’t into the homoerotic subtext?)
Hmmmm… Sometimes I think that Wifey is a bit on the self serving side of things. I think after she saw me do “P is for Progeny,” she figured W would be for Wifey. Well, she is incorrect. W in my world stands for Wendigo.

The Wendigo is a Native American mythological creature that is much like the yeti or sasquatch or Bigfoot. It is a large furry bipedal creature known to inhabit the mountainous wilds of North America. These creatures are distinctly different from yetis, sasquatches, and bigfeet due to their penchant for human flesh…

Oh, who am I kidding. W really is for Wifey. We got married almost 10 years ago, in fact this September will be our 10th anniversary. We were young kids at the time; the tender age of 23 without many real cares in the world. Well, I guess we cared about things like “where should we order pizza from tonight?” and “How late should we sleep in this morning”, but those aren’t really “cares”, per se.

But much like I did not belabor you with tales of Little Man, I also shall not regale you with tales of Wifey. Instead, I will focus on a few things that have changed in my life due to Wifey’s influence.

I learned to communicate my feelings better: Being married to an ex-therapist has its upsides and its downsides. While she will give me a quick-fire psychological profile of my friends and really nail their true selves to the wall with her clinical eye (hilarious upside), she sometimes will use those very skills against me (unfortunate downside). She often makes me really think about my motivations and what feelings are causing me to do various actions. She is typically 80-90% correct, but you did not hear that from me.

I learned that buying clothes that fit will make you look better: She introduced me to the idea that clothes that fit were not only comfortable, but that they were also more aesthetically pleasing. She has me wearing clothes that fit and make me seem like I am in a state of relative physical fitness, instead of shoving myself into pants that are too small and make me look like a be-panted sausage. She has helped me to get a more accurate self body image than I had before, and more than that she has helped me to accept what that image is with a small bit of grace. That is one of the greatest trivial life-lessons she has taught me.

I have learned that cheese is really over-rated: Wifey hates cheese; therefore most meals at Casa del SRH are cheese-less affairs. You know what? I don’t really feel like I am missing anything at all. We still cook tasty meals with a full bouquet of flavors and aromas. Since close to eliminating cheese from my diet, I have noticed how many people rely on cheese to make the meal. It is a culinary crutch, in my opinion. I know that there are a boat-load of you jokers out there who are going to come to the defense of cheese and insinuate that I have never had really “good” cheese. That may be true, but good cheese, as I understand it from the connoisseurs, is supposed to stand on its own not become a bland “sauce” to be slathered over some kind of breaded chicken.

I have learned to love who I am:
I don’t necessarily know why, but Wifey fell in love with me. She has spent the past 12 years teaching me that I am worth loving. Because she loves me, I can love myself, but not in that way, you gutter dwelling porn fiends! I mean I guess I could still love myself that way, but that was not what I was getting at. Great, now I am flustered.

To recap:
It looks like Little Man likes painting pictures that in coloring book
He is surprisingly good
He will also body surf down our neighbors bank
He’s surprisingly good at that, too
I am not sure what will be for dinner tonight
It will not be cheesy though
Wendigo’s are not as scary as vampire bears, but you might not want to meet one.
Have a great weekend everyone
If you are in the States, have a great extended weekend but be safe


Short post alert!
This post is a short one.

This happens to me more often than one would think

Cell phone rings and Wifey’s cell number flashes across the screen.

Me: Hey, Babe.
Wifey: Oops, called the wrong number.
Me: Again?
Wifey: Yep, gotta go. I need to make a phone call.
Me: Okay… um… love you, bye.
Wifey: Love you too, gotta go!


To recap:
I will do something about some letter tomorrow
Really, at least once a week I get the “whoops” call
Sometimes more
Not sure what we are having for dinner tonight
Probably leftovers

Thank you for reading this Short Post
We will bring you back to normal length posting tomorrow.


One thing that I often forget is the fact that Wifey and I are an inter-racial couple. There are many reasons for this memory lapse, the main reason being that in Columbus, we don’t get stared at like we are circus freak shows on display for our aberrant union. It is rare indeed when we go out for dinner and are the only inter-racial couple/family in whatever restaurant we happen to be going to. The other reasons tend to come from my own whacked out philosophy and weird ideas about humanity, but today I am not going to get into the race politics in the U.S. more than saying, sometimes racial stuff comes up with my family from time to time. Granted, I get to say all this from a really privileged point of view though, being an adult white male in the U.S. between the ages of 25 and 45, and since I am in the power majority of the US (I am “the Man,” so to speak) it is very beneficial for me to say I don’t feel like dealing with the race issue. That way I can hire another white guy and feel okay about it.

Anyway… all that crap being said, this weekend was one of those moments where our inter-racialality was brought into sharp focus. There are places in the world where my family does not feel safe (hello, Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, etc…), and there are places where we just don’t feel comfortable. This weekend was one of those discomfort escapades.

Wifey and I went to a wonderful wedding this weekend. It was a nice low-key affair with some great music and sweet and sour meatballs. The event was about 2 hours to the southwest of Columbus. I won’t mention town names because I don’t want to start a blog of name-calling (unless it is about making fun of Alabama that is a different story all together.). After the wedding, Wifey and I decided that we were going to grab a bite to eat. We went to the local mall to find some food. With Wifey’s gall bladder issues and recent tumor discovery we have found that fast food is really difficult for her to stomach, so we eschewed the food court and went to one of the restaurants inside the mall. As we walked though the mall to find our restaurant, I started wondering if Wifey’s tumor was visible. People were just starting at the 2 of us like… like… like they could see Wifey’s more than golf ball sized tumor pulsing with purple light (I am not sure it pulses with purple light, but it makes it scarier in my mind’s eye, so I go with it). Wifey had to stare down a few people on the walk to the restaurant. It is funny, usually when people stare and we confront them with a return stare (Wifey is better at this than me), they usually look away pretty quickly. There is always at least one 65+ year old white guy who will just keep staring, so offended by our union that he cannot look away.

The wait was only 15 to 30 minutes, so we didn’t forego the mall eatery and just head to a Bob Evan’s (which was plan B, ‘cause we are “down on the farm,” yo!). We did decide to wait outside of the restaurant since that is where the empty benches were. It was alarming to see all the people come in and stare at us sharing a bench in the mall, and to realize that we were only 2 hrs away from home. Again, there were many a person caught staring at the spectacle of inter-racialocity. Our inter-racialness probably burned holes in their retinas and corrupted their very souls. I like to think we left that mall with many a person tainted by our un-recommended and looked down upon, yet legal, union.

To recap:
Tomorrow’s 20 Questions Tuesday will be about “letters”
Little Man likes wearing shorts
We found a new restaurant for him on Friday
He likes the steak nachos with black beans and no cheese, guacamole, or sour cream
Come on people! A white man with a biracial/black woman should not be considered so weird!
I have all sorts of rose thorns in my left hand
The right one just has scratches
I have to work out tonight

Whose Child is This?

Oftentimes Wifey laments how much Little Man is like me, SRH and not like her, Zany Mama. She goes on and on and on to anyone who will listen about how much our kid looks like me. She will wax eloquent about how laid back Little Man is about his interactions with peers, à la me. She will talk to total strangers about how she seemed to be left out of Little Man’s genetic soup other than the asthma and his eyes. She will shake her head in consternation and raise her fist in frustration when he and I get enthralled in TV shows (different shows… ummm... typically. Sometimes I really want to Know how Paz is going to fix the model he broke, okay?!?! Lay off!).

But this picture seems to tell a different tale.

Wifey is looking through the Garnet Hill catalogue while Little Man is perusing the Thomas the Tank Engine Catalogue

As does this one.

Wifey is reading a book while Little Man is perusing the Thomas the Tank Engine Catalogue… yet again

Wifey, I think the little one is more like you than you care to admit.

To Recap:
Wifey has stated some feelings about the whole speech/hearing issues that Little Man is dealing with much better than I can
If Little Man makes it through today, it will have been 5 days peeing accident free
I hope this is a trend
Tomorrow is 20 Questions Tuesday: The Christmas Edition
We love looking through the Garnet Hill catalogue
We cannot afford anything in the Garnet Hill catalogue
We have purchased enough from the Thomas the Tank Engine catalogue
Sorry about posting so late, but it has been a bit demanding for me at work today

You be Illin'

It is really difficult to understand all that a partner does to get the house run smoothly until that partner is incapacitated. Wifey is ill, and wow, those shockwaves are quite profound. She and Little Man have quite a routine developed for the morning rituals. A morning routine that I, much loved and capable Papa, do not have. My skilz seem to reside fervently within the “bed-time ritual” realm. I can bathe that boy like a mo’fo! I am all about the bath-tub crayons. Who can read the bed-time stories? Papa that’s who! Oh I am quite adroit at the bed-time ritual. It is a specialty. I have specialized. In my specialization I have lost some of my general skills. Those general skills being the “morning ritual.”

So “What is the morning ritual?” you might ask? Well, honestly, I am not completely sure since consistently I bungle it so badly. I know it has something to do with food prep, food consumption, TV viewing, and dressing for the day. Don’t get me wrong. When I do the morning duties, Little Man gets fed, watches some TV, and gets different clothes on, but not “according top the ritual.” The whole time I am ion charge of mornings, you can see Little Man just slightly shaking his head in exasperation. He will give a heave a big sigh, and tolerate my amateurish flounderings. Little Man is all about the ritual. All about it. No, really. In fact my ineptness in the mornings is so bad that when both Wifey and I are home, awake, and downstairs during the morning time, she actually asks me to leave since I get in her way so much.

Anyway… Wifey is under the weather today. She has a scratchy throat, is chilled, and aches. A typical flu-esque type of malady. She is feeling better than she did when she first woke up, but she is still feeling a bit crappy. Anyway… after getting ready for work, I had to assist in the morning ritual. Even half dazed due to her malady, Wifey navigated through the rituals 10 times better than her bumbling husband. She even adapted his morning ritual from “’Nilla Toast,” his typical breakfast, to a bowl of cereal without missing a beat. She is badass that way. She reads his morning moods and orients her actions without a second thought. I have trouble getting him out of his PJ’s. She can get him scarfing down oatmeal and strawberries, while I forget to give him his morning breathy until his afternoon nap. The dissimilarities are quite striking really.

So today, I played assistant to Wifey’s ailing primary role. I am proud to say that I fired okay and did not muck things up too much.

To Recap:
Wifey is ailing, and I am a poor morning substitute
Got a new monitor for the home PC this weekend
It is great
World of Warcraft looks amazing on it
So does Outlook, but who cares about that?
Not sure what is for dinner tonight
Wifey was planning on cooking some chicken stuff prior to being laid low by whatever is ailing her
I had a splitting headache yesterday due to the weather
Stupid change in barometric pressure!
Tomorrow’s 20 Questions is going to be about food
Wow, this post was basically a Shout out to Wifey
I guess I still like her
Check out who the screenwriter for "Stuart Little" is
Where was the bizarre end of the movie plot twist?
21 days until the 2nd Blogaversary!


As of today, it has been 9 years of marital bliss for me and Wifey. Honestly, I did not think we would end up how we are today.

You see, the only marriage that I had seen was my parents’, but their marriage is one that lacks affection and seems to be driven mostly by obligation and sense of responsibility. Don’t get me wrong, there is love there, but I think the 2 people who fell in love are not the 2 people who are currently married in that relationship. Their days are spent in separate easy chairs watching TV, reading the paper, and doing crossword puzzles. They are generally unhappy people with really un-fulfilling lives.

I described this to Wifey a few weeks ago, and she asked me, “And you wanted to curse me with that existence by marrying me?” “In a word, ‘yes.’” Is how I answered. In truth, all I knew is that I wanted to spend as much time with her as I possibly could, and to me, that meant marriage, because, Sweet Mother of God and all that is Holy, my parents see each other all the frikking time. 9 years ago, I thought I would merely end up quietly growing old and bitter with her slowly shutting down my emotions all the while learning more and more how to tune out her constant diatribe of negativity being generated by my emotional un-availability and distance. That was the marriage model I could model my actions after. I was basically dooming our wonderful courtship to a decrepit shell of a relationship based on mutual apathy and our own over-wrought sense of obligation. In a sense, I figured that our relationship would die a slow horrible miserable death, a war of attrition, if you will.

I did not realize that my life could be so full. I did not know that I would be having so much fun. I did not know that I would still love her more everyday.

To recap:
9 years ago, I did not know I would be this happy
In fact, I thought I would be an empty empty soul going through the motions of marital existence
I am glad I was wrong
Oddly, we are not celebrating anything tonight
I am actually kind of not allowed to be in the house this evening
Seems she is having some kind of dinner meeting thingy for women only going on, and since I am not so womanly as to have ovaries, I am not invited
Oh, well, Little Man and I will celebrate the 9 years of his parent’s marriage without Wifey.

Awwww, Nuts!

Okay, I don’t quite understand this necessity of Wifey. I understand that when she gets a culinary craving, and I mean serious, get out of her way craving, that she must sate that craving rather quickly. I also understand that I am often the beneficiary of her impromptu baking flurries. She will get a craving and suddenly need, NEED I tell you, brownies, cookies, fudge, etc… That evening, whatever evening it is, she will bake ferociously (sometimes into the wee hours of the morning) until her baked goods are completed and cooling on a rack somewhere.

Side Note: I feel it necessary that everyone know the Wifey does not tend to have these craving terribly often. Maybe once every 2 or 3 months… at most. It is probably much less often than that, if I really think about it.

Anyway… to the point of this post. Why in the name of Ba’al, the pre-operative transgender god/dess*, does Wifey insist on putting nuts in everything she bakes. Walnuts, almonds, pecans, peanuts, etc… in fudge, brownies, and cookies. Nary a damn baked good comes out of our oven that she has prepared that does not have some nut (“nut” not Nut, the Egyptian Goddess of the Sky) embedded within its baked goodness.

Now, I am not here to just rant against adding hard shelled seeds to bakes goods. I am ranting about adding hard shelled seeds to ALL her baked goods. Baked goods do not always need a nut in them. Cookies don’t have to contain a walnut piece or almond sliver before that are considered a cookie. Heck, she even wants white cake to be frikkin’ “White ALMOND Cake.” Lay off the nuts, Wifey! Wait, that was phrased poorly. Let me try again. Ummm… nope, there really isn’t a good way to phrase that one. Just disregard this post entirely. This post is over, folks! Just, move along. Move along…

To recap:
I have a splitting headache
Looks like Fluffy the Pine Marten has decided to take residence in my skull again

We determined that last night’s brownies were the last nutty baked goods that she will be producing in our kitchen due to Little Man’s allergies
When he wasn’t all over the place, it was not so bad to get some walnut dust and scrapings on the counter
Now, it could be a problem
Pancakes and sausage for dinner
Everyone have a good weekend

*note: A friend of mine figures that Ba’al is out there just waiting for someone to recognize him/her as a god, but then, when hears how he is being referenced, the god/dess is distraught about his/her characterization. It is just a little trick we like to play on the Babylonian Mythos. It is the equivalent of a prank call on a diety.

2 more Things

2 things to go over today.

Thing Number the One:

The vacation sans Little Man was absolutely wonderful. As I stated in Monday’s post, we hiked around 15 miles in 2 days. It was an absolutely wonderful time. Wifey and I both enjoyed ourselves very much.

We were able to sleep late in the mornings and really have a relaxed attitude about what and when we were going to do stuff. Wifey and I are great travelers that way. Both she and I are really flexible when it comes to the day-to-day (or hour-to-hour, as the case may be) planning of our vacations. We really do just kind of fly by the seat of our pants whilst away from home. Well, we do that when we are not traveling with the highly allergic, super asthmatic Little Man. When traveling with him, we need to be more proactive in determining what will be accomplished daily during our time away from home. In essence, what I am trying to say is that… When one travels with a little one, spontaneity is not really a hallmark of the trip. Our trip this past weekend was wonderfully spontaneous.

The interesting part of the whole process was just how much Little Man did not really miss us. When we left he could hardly tear his eyes away from the TV to say “Bye.” When we got home, he was happy to see us, but I have seen him happier when I pick him up from work in the evening. I guess he was really ready for the ‘Rents to leave him alone for a bit. Wifey and I were a bit sad and nervous to leave him, but that went away after he was not too interested in talking with us on the phone. So, I would say that Wifey and I were angsty for all of 3 hours of traveling. After we realized just how unconcerned Little Man was, we just decided to enjoy the weekend. It was really nice.

There were 2 things that would have made the weekend better. Firstly, the hotel room stank. By that, I do mean it was odiferous. It smelled like they had a water problem a while ago that decided to take up residence in the carpet whenever it got above a certain percentage humidity. This weekend was above that certain percentage humidity. Secondly, we did not fare so well with the food purchases. Many of our meals were extremely overpriced for not-so-good food. Fix those 2 issues and it was a perfect weekend.

On to the more pressing topic.

Thing Number the Two:

This morning whilst at my desk in my wonderful cubicle at work, I smelled the oddest smell I have ever smelled at work. I know that when someone mentions an odd smell at work, they usually think about grotesque nasty smells that belong in garbage cans and bathrooms, but this was just an odd smell to smell at work. It was a smell that harkened me back to my childhood. A childhood marred and blessed by my allergy to chocolate.

You see, growing up, I was allergic to chocolate and had to subsist on everything non-chocolaty. It was a hard hard life. My “ever sensitive to my plight” brother decided that he always wanted Count Chocula as his breakfast cereal. Mainly because I could not have it. He was partial to Cap’n Crunch, but since I could eat that as well as him, it was never one of his purchases. As I kid, all I ever wanted for breakfast was Count Chocula, but alas, its chocolatey flavors were not for me. My mom, realizing my desire for the forbidden confection got me Frankenberry instead. Turns out that both cereals were more sugar than flavor, and really the only difference between the 2, other than my ability to consume the latter without a rash, was the color it made the milk.

But the smell of Frankenberry is a very distinct smell. You can almost smell the sugar when you caught a whiff of that cereal. It has an overtone of strawberries to it, but no one could really say that it smelled like strawberries. That was the smell permeating the area around my cube today. The smell of my childhood cereal. The smell of a dis-continued cereal that has not been manufactured in a long long time (to my knowledge). A ghost of a smell that lingered for five minutes and then was no more.

To Recap:
Honest to God! I was running around the office snuffling for the source of the smell
I never found it
Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch is my poison of choice now
Due to Little Man’s allergies, we can not have anything peanutty in the house, so my decadent cereal is now just plain old Cap’n Crunch
Because I am an Adult I have Smart Start instead of Cap’n Crunch
Being an adult sucks
My brother also liked Coco-Pebbles while I was relegated to eating Fruity-Pebbles
Now I am smelling freshly opened Band-Aid brand adhesive bandages
I think my nose is going insane
I am glad Wifey and I had last weekend together
We needed it

We are back in 1 piece... err... if you want to get technical, 2 pieces

The weekend was great. Little Man didn't really miss us, and we survived just fine without him. The vacation sans ankle biter was a rousing success. 20 Questions Tuesday will be in full force tomorrow.


To Recap:
We hiked around 15 miles (24.14 km) over the 2 non-travelling days we were gone
It is around 8 hours from here to Traverse City, MI
If it were 6 hours, that would have been perfect
Prisonlake is not one of Wifey's friend's middle names

So it shall be written. So it shall be done...

I have decided that the best way for Wifey and I to enjoy our weekend away from Little Man is to get sick right before we leave. That way if I am absolutely miserable with the lack of contact with my wonderful little boy I can blame it on the malady and not my general wussitude. All my moody pouty looks will be attributed to my sinuses filling to the point of bursting. My vacant distraction will be attributed to my dependence on sinus medication to survive, not to my utter helplessness of not being near to Little Man just in case something goes wrong.

So, sorry Wifey, my decision is final. I will be sick this weekend so that you do not think me a weak weak pitiful man. Plus you gave it to me.

Okay, all things being equal, I really am fighting off some kind of crappy bug. I think Little Man gave it to Wifey, who in turn gave it to me. Little Man and Wifey seem to be on the edge of being non-sick. If they are both nice and recovered tomorrow, that would add a whole other level of “peace of mind” for me. I would hate to be out of town for the first time whilst the young one was not feeling good. I, on the other hand, am just now really starting to feel un-well from this particular illness. Tomorrow, I hope, should be the peak of my sickness. Then I hope I will start slowly feeling better (it has lingered for a long time with Little Man and Wifey… a loooooong time).

It will be really nice to just be able to spend some time with Wifey where we are not constantly trying to know what Little Man is doing (moving the sofa) or where Little Man is going (out the locked back door). That task we are leaving for Mimma. It will be refreshing for me to actually get caught up with the trials and tribulations in Wifey’s life that we currently do not talk about because even when the constant needy ball of need that is Little Man is asleep a conversation tends to get in the way of house up-keep and our sleep. It is true that Wifey may not be happy to re-hash everything, but this blog isn’t about her, now is it?

I am looking forward to getting out of the city. I need some time away.

To recap:
We leave tomorrow afternoon for a vacation without Little Man
It will be little more than a long weekend
Or an eternity, in some ways
I really am trying to fend off this malady before tomorrow but it seems like one of those things that just wants to linger
And linger it is…
Have a great weekend everyone


I did something last night I never thought I would be able to do in a million trillion years. Oklay, that is a bit of an overstatement since there is no way I will be alive for a “million trillion” years. So let’s just say that I did something that I thought I would never do in my lifetime. “What did you do, SRH?!” is the question you are all asking. I am sure you are all sitting on pins and needles waiting for me expound upon what it is that I did. What monumental feat I accomplished. What Gordian Knot I untied. Well, fine readers, I ate more steak than my wife.

Yes, that is correct; I ate more steak than my wife. Sure this doesn’t sound like much, but it really is something quite special.

The facts:
I am 6’2” tall (1.87m for my metric readership)

Wifey is 5’2” tall (1.57m for my metric readership)

I am 220lbs (99.79 kg for my metric readership and 15.71 stone for the Brits)

Wifey is considerably less (honestly, even if I knew how much she weighed, I wouldn’t risk my life by posting it, let’s just say that pending on the brand she wears anywhere from a size 2 to a size 6. This variation is why I hate shopping for her, but that is a rant for a different day)

We are both 32 years old and lead moderately active lives

One would think that steak eating would be no contest. I am significantly heavier than her and 15.6% taller than her. I should win hands down just from my sheer comparative girth. All that being said, typically, she just schools me when eating of steak. She has stunned many a person withy her ability to pack the red meat into her gullet. “All you can eat prime rib” is one of her favorites. Restaurants lose money on her for foolishly allowing her to truly eat all she can. On one occasion one of the wait staff asked her if she really wanted a third slice of prime rib.

There are only a few other things that she can pack away like she has a hollow leg. Other than steak, dairy queen soft serve vanilla ice-cream is one, watermelon is another, and cherries are the final one. For example, one time after taking down a 16 oz steak at Outback Steakhouse, my dad challenged her to eat a Peanut Buster Parfait from Dairy Queen. Her response to him was this, and I kid you not, “I just ate a full pound of beef, but I reckon I can take you to school.” And better yet, she did.

Anyway… last night I ate more steak than her. That was a first. Don’t get me wrong, if I had challenged her to a steak eating contest, she would have beat me hands down, but as it is, I ate more steak than her. It is a first for me and a small triumph.

To Recap:
I ate more steak and someone significantly smaller than me and I am proud
How pathetic is that?
That is a rhetorical question, by the way
Not sure what we are having for dinner tonight
Probably not steak
I couldn’t eat another bite
In her defense, the steak was rather tough
My lunch was unsatisfying
That is a really bad thing considering I just ate it
It is going to be a long afternoon
Have a great weekend folks


It is a tradition for my wife and I to exchange letters to each other for Christmas. This year, I have decided that I will write this letter in more of a public forum. So beware, schmaltziness ensues, in fact it is going to get downright sickly sweet. Stop reading now if you have a weak constitution for "sweet nothings."


I definitely love you more and more every day. Having a child with you has just magnified this love a thousand fold. Watching you with our little boy makes my heart leap with joy. I look forward to coming home to you, and you coming home to me every day. Every morning when I wake up next to you, I do not want to get out of bed, I want lay around with you and our little one laughing about him flopping around on the bed, you making silly faces with him, and me imitating his babbling sounds and giggles.

I love watching you interact with little man. He loves you so much, and his eyes light up almost as much as mine when he sees you. The tenderness and firmness of your love for the boy has shown me another side of you to love. I now am in love with a mom as well as a the woman I married. (It is good that the two are one in the same, otherwise I am pretty sure how this letter would go over, and it wouldn't be good) You are steadfast in your devotion to your family, and for that I am in love with you. Family definitely is your number one concern.

But I did not fall in love with you because you would (and do) make a great mother. I fell in love with you because you are a strong independent woman, whose intellect and humor are only surpassed by your beauty (both inner and outer beauties, an "all encompassing beauty," if you will). I love making you laugh. I love when you make me laugh. I love discussing ideas (theological, scientific, family of origin stuff, etc...) with you. I love talking about our future together. I love fantasizing about how we would spend lottery winnings together. I loved you when you were my girlfriend, I loved you when you were my fiancé, and I love you as my wife. I am looking forward to the rest of a wonderful life with you.

Sweetheart, I love you so much.

Love Love

Next one is going to be about crappy gifts, so the schmaltziness should be over for now. My apologies to those who were disturbed by the saccharinity of this post.


My wife was on a business trip this week starting on Wednesday through this afternoon. It is amazing to have her back at home with the little one and myself. We both missed her greatly. although, I think the little one was a bit miffed when he first saw her in the airport. He warmed up on the drive home.

These 2 1/2 days without her, really makes me question how anyone is able to raise a child as a single parent. It is difficult enough with 2 fully commmitted parents. I do not want anyone to think that I was unhappy to parent our little boy on my own. It was a truly rewarding experience. He is so much fun, and we enjoyed ourselves as much as we could (he dealing with the Orapred and me dealing with him on the Orapred). He loves to let me build something for 20 seconds with his Legos, and then take it away from me and put it onto the window sill, or tear it apart. He giggles so much when we chase each other around our house, and that giggle is magic. That being said, he took a fairly constant amount of attention, and I was not able to have anyone run interference for mewhile I attempted cooking. I really never had much of a moment to myself, because on the Orapred, even when he was sleeping, it was not a deep and restful sleep. (side note: Orapred is done, he should be his normal self after he crashes either Saturday or Sunday) If I were wearing a hat, it would be off to the single parents out there. It is a rewarding job, but it is difficult.