Kobayashi Maru

Just so we are all clear about what I am capable of!

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[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJRzBpFjJS8[/youtube]

I personally have nothing against pregnant women.  In fact, I am personally responsible for making my wife into one of them - and for continually trying to do so again.

But still…this was funny.

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So my ever-lovin’ wifey is out of the country. Yep, she fled the country. Alright, so we live like 15 minutes to the border, but still, she crossed it for the weekend. She’s down shmoozing TV executives. Go figure. And I am at home - just me and the Muppet…and Ruxpin. Nothing like a nice couple of days of Daddy-daughter time. But did I mention that before she decided to head to the States, she volunteered us to babysit some friends’ children? Did I mention that she scheduled us to do this on this weekend?

Yep, if you do the math, you quickly realize that this leaves me, your friendly neighborhood Tex, to oversee not one - which I can and do handle all the time; not two - which is twice how much I normally handle, but still fully within my capability; but three - three freaking little girls!!

So I am house dad to girls ages 6, 4 and 3 for the weekend. Go me.

Turns out I do girl daddy really well. Who would have thunk it. But NO, this does not mean that I am going to suggest to Ferf that we should have a whack load of girls now. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I’m not sayin’ that at all. I’m just sayin’ that I can handle girl daddy. Of course, I am talking about wittle girls here. I reserve the right to be totally inept and frustrated when I become female teenager daddy.

So, I am currently overrun with a gaggle of giggling girls and will get back to blogging as soon as my wife gets back and I figure out what and how much of it she owes me for taking it for the team this weekend.

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So the Muppet got some game for Christmas this year.  She has been asking for games for a while, and we have been holding off until she actually understood the games.  See, like a year ago we got her that old wonderful childhood game:  Hungry Hungry Hippos

And I have been stepping on plastic marbles ever since…so that game got like 3 actual plays out of it before there weren’t enough pieces left to play.  That sucks the fun right out of it believe you me.

So here we are 12 months later, and she got some new games: Dominoes and Go Fish.

She took to these games fairly well.  We started with Dominoes and those she caught onto quite quickly.  But Go Fish was its own special experience.  Ferf decided that to start we should be able to lay down pairs instead of the 4 card sets.  I found this to be somewhat worthless, but it was to help a 4 year old learn the game (and be able to hold the cards).  So we played a few hands like that and the Muppet got the gist and played well.  Fast forward to the next day.  The Muppet wants to play Go Fish again.  I decide that she understands the game well enough for us to play sets.  (The game comes with these cool card holders so the Muppet really can handle lots of cards at a time.)  The game started well enough until that fateful moment where Ferf asks the Muppet for a specific card that she has 3 of.  This gives Ferf a set that she lays down and the Muppet does a little lip quiver because she has grown attached to those cards - after all, she took two of them from me in what was her first big haul.  We explain to her that this is part of the game, and that she still has three cards in her hand to play with.  Unfortunately, the very next hand I happen to ask her for a card - of which she happens to have exactly 3.

And, when I look up from having placed those cards down in front of me, the Muppet is getting up from her chair and running towards the stairs.  I get up and follow and grab her right as she hits the stairs.  She quirms and cries and says that she wants to go to her room.  I take her to the couch and Ferf comes over and we explain to her that this is all part of the game, but she is semi-unconsolable…until finally she says, “you two hurt my feelings by taking all my cards.  Those were my special cards and I was trying to get to 4 of them AND YOU TOOK THEM!!”  While suppressing my laughter, I looked into her eyes and again explained the game and how she had taken many cards from myself and Ferf.  She thought about it for a moment, and said, “yes, but you didn’t love them like I did so it didn’t hurt your feelings.”
This is where I realized that my and Ferf’s genetic codes were at war inside my daughter.  See, Ferf comes from a family that she thought was competitive.  She honestly thought that she grew up in a seriously competitive family when it came to playing games.  But that was before she met me and learned what competitive really was.  MY family did competitive on a while new level.   The first time she played Monopoly with Marvin and I (and got her butt totally handed to her) she was dumbfounded.  She seriously considered herself to be one of the best Monopoly player in the world.  She very quickly learned that the world is a very large place and that for some, this is less a game and more a life and death competition.  We taught her a whole new level of strategy, ruthlessness and cut-throat game play.  But deep down Ferf is a softie and she does not want to hurt people (or be hurt herself) - which is why I kick her arse more often than not - I don’t have that whole conscious thing that gets in the way when playing games).  So, as I said, I realized the internal war going on inside the Muppet.

See, she wants to win…badly.  She wants to crush her opponents like bugs.  She wants…well, the same things I want.  But even more than that, she wants to not lose.  And she wants you to want her to win as badly as she wants her to win - enter Ferf’s genetic code.  This poor girl has a long game-playing road in front of her.  But once she gets it all figured out, I have this feeling that nothing will stand in her way.  Kinda scary really…for others anyway.  Not so much for me.  Once she gets it all figured out I will make sure she is always on my team.

I am pretty sure that my genes will win out in this particular instance.  How do I know you ask?  Well, that same afternoon the Muppet and I were sitting in the bed - me typing away on my ‘puter and her watching some Dora movie.  I look over and notice that she has leaned back and crossed her left leg over her right (just like I was so my laptop would rest at the right angle for typing).  I glance a little farther and see her looking at me.  I smile at her and she says, “Look Daddy, I am just like you.”  I gave her a big hug and told her that is makes me very happy that she is just like me.  And that is when she sits up and looks me right in the eye and says:

“Daddy.  I think I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

Me: “Thank you Muppet.  That means a lot to me.”

Her:  “I have been thinking a lot about this Daddy.  I want to be just like you…or a dancer.  I might want to be a dancer.  I like dancing.”

And then she goes back to watching the DVD.

Either it was a really cool, yet fleeting, moment of childlike honesty and Daddy-daughter bonding, or it was a really well thought out nasty little way of getting back at me for taking her 3 cards in Go Fish.  If it was the first, I have the sweetest little girl in the world.  If it was the second, then I am even more impressed with her than I thought I was, and she really will take over the world one day.

Either way…I kinda win.

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Some of you might have noticed that my list of links has been paired down in the last little while.  And this is surely true.  I had to make hard decisions last night, like:

• CNN or syndicated re-runs
• vanilla ice cream or a reeses peanut butter cup
• facebook or reading a book

And lastly

• who to keep in my links list?

Why, you might ask, did I have to do these things?  Why pile up such momentous decisions and do them all at one time?  Well, because I am not one to flee the difficult decisions in life.  I would make a stellar President of something I would think…

But, I have those links there because those are things I actually like to read.  So, that being said, why on earth would I take them away?  Well, some because they stopped writing.  They just weren’t committed to the blogging world and their readers (at least me anyway.  they weren’t committed to me.  and that just hurts too much to see the link sitting there every day.  mocking me.)  And some because, they don’t link to me.    I know.  I admit a shock as large as yours.  It’s hard to believe, but it is true.  And lastly, it is bacause I am ready to expand my repertoire of blogs that I read.  Oh yes, I do read them.  I am a blogger on both ends.  I write and I read.  I go both ways like that.  But not like that - you sicko!

SO.  I am going to open it up to my reader(s) to suggest blogs that I ought to read.  Expand my horizons.  Enlighten my learning.  Point me in the way of enjoyment.  Show me the way.

Or just suggest some sites I ought to look at.  Try to keep them mostly inoffensive so I don’t have to hide them from Ferf or the Muppet.  But don’t send me to crap either.  Just cause someone is at home and has time and access to a computer does not mean they should be allowed to write, nor does it mean that I should read it.  I am not a pity reader.  And for those of you who read mine out of pity…I deeply thank you for being better people than I am.  The world is a better place for having you in it.  And I am humbled by the fact that you chose my little site as a focus for your pity.

So, let the floodgates be opened.  Let the recommendations fall where they may.  And may all of us be better for the exercise.  Or at least me.  Really, that would be enough.  If you get something out of it too, then hey, bonus!

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So last night was the big Halloween.  Where the Muppet and kids like her (and even those not like her) everywhere in North America dress up in costume and actively ignore the no solicitation bylaws in communities.  Not only that, they become braver than at any other time in their young lives and brazenly walk up to the front doors of houses that they have never been to before and with no hesitation request something for nothing.  They simply think, “I will dress up nice and you will give me something for nothing because I ask nicely.”

In retrospect, it is a lot like my job.  But they only do it once a year, and have better results…I really don’t like children sometimes…but I digress.

The Muppet decided to dress up like a fairy…princess…ballerina.  Yes.  A fairy, princess ballerina.  Which actually works when you merge them all together because basically it mans you want to be covered in pink with some frills and wings.  In fact, you can ignore the fact that ballerinas don’t usually wear pink clod-hopper boots because nobody will point it out anyway.

See, all you can think about it how cute she looks.  And really, that’s my 4 year old daughter’s bum you pervert.  Back off.  But here is the thing for me.

Before we left to blantenly take from other people in the neighborhood, we did the traditional pumpkin carving.  The Muppet LOVES this.  And she thinks I am very very good at it.  She draws the face and I carve it out.  This year, we ended up with a jack-o-lantern that appeared thusly:

Notice the one at the door above:

That is what I noticed - over and over again.  All night long.  We have evidently moved into a colony of pumpkin carvers.  Who knew?  Everyone in the freaking area can carve these things professionally.  I went from being the object of adoration of a 4 year old because of my mad carving skills, to the object of self derision and internal mortification because I lack any semblance of carving skills.  Fortunately, the Muppet was focused on the embarrassingly large haul of refined sugar that she stole from the neighbors.  So even though I was repeatedly humiliated by every person in the neighborhood who felt that this would be a good year to show the entire world that they were better at disemboweling a vegetable and cutting its lifeless corpse into pretty pictures than me, the Muppet never brought it up out loud - though I know that through her silence she too mocked me.  I hate this place and these awful awful people.

I kid.  I kid.

And just in case you are thinking that I am somehow boring you, here is another picture of gratuitous cuteness:

And another:

Yes, these people even decorated better than us.  Though really, decorating for Halloween seems over the top to me.  To quote the oracle Wikipedia:

Traditionally, the festival was a time used by the ancient Celtic pagans to take stock of supplies and slaughter livestock for winter stores. The ancient Gaels believed that on October 31, now known as Halloween, the boundary between the living and the deceased dissolved, and the dead become dangerous for the living by causing problems such as sickness or damaged crops. The festivals would frequently involve bonfires, into which bones of slaughtered livestock were thrown.

Decorating the house for such things seems awkward to me.  It’s not that I don’t want to seem overtly inhospitable to those who might cross over from a dissolved boundary, but neither do I really want to invite them over for tea if you know what I mean. However, I once again, digress.  As one looks back over the course of the Maru’s voyage one might surmise that this is, in actuality, one long unending digression.  And if I am to be honest, this viewpoint might not be completely without merit.  But neither is it totally true I suppose.

Because this post is about Halloween.  And more specifically it is about my Halloween with the Muppet.  We walked all over the neighborhood.  We knocked on every door that had lights on - okay we rang doorbells

But we hit every house in the area.  Her bag got heavier and heavier.  I offered to carry it between houses, but she would have none of that.   She hiked it up higher on her shoulder like a purse - because that is what big girls do as I learned last night - and carried on like a trooper.  She complained that her nose was getting cold - which, you know, this is Canada, so that’s plausible, but she did not want to stop.  In fact, the only time she even considered it (with anything even close to thoughtfulness) was the two houses that had motion activated automatons that spoke and scared the crap out of little kids. Like Heads up Harry:

Believe me when I say this guy did not impress the Muppet.  He started talking and lifting his head off and she was underwhelmed to say the least.  She finally decided that it was worth the terror to get more candy, but only if I walked up to the door with her.  When they guy opened the door and realized that his freaky thing that he spent WAY too much money on had scared this adorable little fairy princess ballerina, he was extremely apologetic to both her and me.  In fact, he dumped half his bowl of candy into her bag as he said I’m sorry over and over like a mantra - hoping that I wasn’t going to kill him for scaring my baby girl.

But the evening finally wore on and I informed the Muppet that it was truly time to call it a night from begging and panhandling.  She was cold and tired and said OKAY a little easier than i expected, but we held hands and walked down the side walk.  And as we did, I was thinking, “this is one of those great memories that I will look back on and smile.”  About that time, she Muppet squeezed my hand and said, “Daddy, thanks for taking me trick or treating.  I had a great time with you.”  I responded, “I love doing this with you too Muppet.”  And she stopped walking, pulled me down on her level, paused for a moment and then hugged my neck really sweetly and said…

“Yeah, it’s been a wonderful day for all of us.”

I swear I looked around for a camera cause I thought I had been tricked into being in a made for TV Hallmark movie.  But, there was no camera, so I hugged her back and said, “yeah, baby girl…it has.”

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Never let it be said that I have forgotten my ‘merican roots.  So in honor of my roots, I give you this inspirational video:

GOD BLESS AMERICA

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So I have moved from k-town to the lower mainland. The Fraiser Valley. The “coast”. They have so many freaking names for this area. One could make the argument for too much creativity in this. Except that there are 3 separate communities around here called Langley. Fort Langley, City of Langley and Township of Langley. THAT my friends and dear readers is just plain lazy. Lack of creativity is one thing. It’s late and you have been naming things all day - “apples, bananas, guavas, pears, ok, one left - it’s round, it’s orange…screw it, call it an orange.” But three communities that all touch each other and are all called the same thing. That is just lazy. Sure find a new continent and you can call things new - New York, New England, heck, I’ll even give you New Mexico - but Fort Langley, City of Langley and Township of Langley…do people even use the term “township” anymore!?

Anyway, a season has changed - and I don’t mean spring to summer. After 9 years of being in the Okanagan Valley (K-town is the only place I have ever lived in Canada) we are no longer there. That’s a huge thing. So many people I wanted to pack up into my truck and bring with me. I am trying to figure out ways to hire them all so they can move down here. I might actually be able to pull it off with a couple of them! Time will tell.

So, we packed everything we own (except for a couple of smaller things that simply would not fit in the 26 foot truck no matter how much we bent time and space - and they will come later) into a truck, put granny on the back in a rocking chair and moved to Beverly. Wait, that was a TV show. We neither struck oil, nor broke transportation laws to move. And no banker was waiting for us when we arived. Well, a mortgage officer was…that’s similar right? Yep, you picked up on the reference. We bought a house. Pictures of which can be seen on Flickr. Of course it looks a bit different now that we have actually moved in and personalized the place…and put it window blinds…and appliances…and pictures…and furniture…and dirty clothes. But we are now all in and ready for guests. So those of you who know and love us - come on down for a visit. For those who just know us, but not so much on the love part…you’re welcome to stop by for coffee. For those who know and/or love us, but us not so much you, well, you are welcome to drive by and honk. You know who you are. Separate yourselves out into the appropriate groupings. It will make it so much easier on us all.

I am also now gainfully employed in a new position. Yes, doing the same thing. Same career. Shoot, it’s the same title even. But a brand new position in the theoretical kama sutra of professions. I made an upwards move on the vocational chart in my mind. Now I separate people from their resources on a national scale. It’s a hoot lot of fun. Second day on the job and a 10 minute phone conversation turned into $40,000. I think I’ll go home for the day - that’s my one thing for the day! Wonder if I can keep that pace up. $40,000 every 2 days…well, it’s the weekend so we will just have to wait and see.

Back to talking about my new home - since really that is worth talking about. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. It is everything I ever wanted in a home. Ok, maybe it could sit on half an acre of flat land…on a mountain…overlooking a huge lake that was emerald green in color because of all the minerals in it, that was over stocked with fish. Outside of that, it’s everything I wanted. But really, a guy has to have some upward mobility in his dreams when he’s only 37. So I gave myself that leeway. The only hitch in it is with the laundry facilities. They are upstairs. This is not the issue. Ferf loves that. No more carrying laundry downstairs (much less outside around the house and down into the basement). Nope, now she lugs the basket like 7 feet to the laundry area upstairs. There is a nice open area in front and the washer and dryer sit inside a closet. All very tidy and nice. Being as this was a new house, we even got an appliance package. This included a new washer and dryer set. Ferf picked out this great Bravo set:

The dryer has this cool steam function and the washer, while top loading has no agitator, so all the functionality of a front loader with more space inside. All in all a great pick if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, it was not until after they were delivered that we realized that the laundry closet was built with standard size appliances in mind. These beauties are exactly 2.4 inches larger than standard. SO even after I pulled off the baseboards in the hopes of creating more room, they did not fit. SO, while I was pondering deeply the possibility of cutting through drywall to the bare studs to squeeze 3/4 more space on each side or trying to “rebuild” this space (though I knew that was crazy) or whether or not they would take them back…Ferf was contemplating her own ideas. She made me promise that I would not tell this to my friends - so if you are a friend, please don’t read this…as a friend I know I can trust you not to. She comes out of the bedroom and looks at me with a sheepish smile and says to me…is there anyway we can make it fit?? I really like these…

Me being me, I am still racking my brains trying to figure out a way to do it. I was just about to say, “I am willing to listen to any idea. Nothing is outside the realm of discussion”, when she makes a suggestion that, well, totally took me of guard. Now to be fair, all of us approach problems and circumstances from our own unique perspective. That perspective usually stems from our own history, experience and expertise. That being the case, her suggestion, from her, makes perfect sense. In fact, I should really have expected it. She suggested that we use something to help the appliances fit better:

Yes, my wifey suggested that we just, well, “lube them up.” Indeed, you do wish you had my wife don’t you. I know. I know.

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Christmas in TEXAS!!!! It’s everything that you might expect! The weather was as warm as the people and the food was amazing.

Many of you are aware that we (Ferf, the Muppet and I) had decided that this year we were staying put in K-town for Christmas. The Muppet is 3 and old enough to really start “getting” Christmas, so it seemed appropriate to start our own family traditions this year. BUT…Uncle ScottyBear and his woman Yoda (you remember her from last year right? Did you do the ear thing?) decided to celebrate their nuptials on the 23rd of December in Texas. (If I say “selfish bastards” what I really mean is “amazing people for wanting us to be at their wedding” - you know, in case they read this…)

SO we packed up 4 suitcases of the Muppet’s stuff and an overnight back for the 2 adults and traipsed down to the motherland of Tejas. We spent some time with my family and then settled in for 3 days of hell wedding preparations at the in-laws place.

Before I regale you with stories of my family or Ferf’s family, I have to tell you a little something about the Muppet. So, she is 3 now. She is a beautiful little girl,and I am learning to be a “girl daddy” a little better every day. Girls are different in more ways than just the internal plumbing. So, I do my best to understand the female psyche and speak in ways that she both understands and appreciates. Thusly, I have taken to getting her to do things by “singing” my requests rather than simply stating them. This is not to say that I have a singing voice of any kind, because I do not. One of the things my father left me when he died was his inability to carry a tune in the proverbial bucket. But I am not talking about belting out the hallelujah chorus in 3 part harmony here. We are talking more like a sing-songy voice. Anyway, either you are picking up what I am putting down or not - either way, I must move on for the good of everyone else.

So, one morning Ferf asks me if I would get the Muppet dressed. This seemed like a reasonable request. She is my daughter and I do know how to dress - if not someone else, at least myself, at lest when Ferf lays out my clothes. SO, since Ferf had indeed laid out the Muppet’s clothing, I said sure. Then I set off to get the Muppet to think this was as good an idea as we her parents did. I found out that her priorities are not the same as ours. Our ways are higher than her ways and our thoughts are higher than her thoughts…I felt like a deity for a moment when I said it that way. But that moment passed and I was quickly back to chasing the Muppet around the in-laws house and trying to coerce her into removing her pajamas and putting on the clothes that Mom had indicated where scheduled for that day.

Eventually I went into the bedroom and just quietly started calling her name and asking where she was into the air. This piqued her interest and she eventually tottled down the hall and poked her head into the bedroom and said, “here I am daddy!” I smiled the hugest smile and told her that this made my day as she was my favorite Muppet in the whole world and it made my heart happy to see her. This got me a big smile and hug - and I thought to myself, “I so have this kid. I am a psychological GIANT!” Then I “sang” to her, “let’s take off our pajamas”. No, sing. You have to sing it or you will totally miss the impact of this story, and we both know that you are here for impact. So let’s try again…”let’s take off our pajamas”. (much better that time. see how much more meaningful it is when you let go of your pride and just enter into the story as a participant instead of some digital voyeur after the fact?)

And on a side note, I do not know why children respond better when you say things in the plural as opposed to the singular. If I had said, take off your pajamas instead of let’s take off our pajamas, it would not have worked. It wasn’t like I was wearing pajamas. And we don’t really have some kind of joint ownership of the pajamas - they are solely hers, but for whatever reason children like it when “we” do things even if they are the only ones actually doing it. So “we” took off “our” pajamas. And then she was standing then naked as a jaybird. So I sang the next line of the ongoing song that I was writing as we went along. The first line was the aforementioned “let’s take off our pajamas.” SING IT DAMN YOU! Ok. And the next line was, “Let’s put on our panties.” Again, I did not put on panties. I do not wear panties. I do not own panties. I was doing this as a father trying to reach out to his daughter in meaningful ways. So, I sang the line, “Let’s put on our panties…” To which my daughter responded by singing back to me in the exact same tone and rhythm, “so no one can see my vagina!!!” Yeah, you don’t have to sing that part.

I sort of ducked my head and thought, “singing time is officially over.” We got dressed the rest of the way in a more utilitarian mode. The Muppet asked if I wanted to keep singing and I told her that it was obvious that Mommy had been teaching her the words to that particular song, so maybe she should go sing it with Mommy, in front of Mommy’s 91 year old grandmother in the living room. And I sent her out to play with the family, while I stayed in the bedroom curled up in the fetal position ina transitional state somewhere between laughing hysterically and crying…

And that was the first day of the trip. I got more, as the title implies, but after that story, I still need a moment to myself….come back later and I’ll be alright.

By the way, Happy New Year.

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I just realized the other day that I have been blogging for over a year now. That is almost scary really. I have never really thought much about how much, how long or how often I blog. It’s just something that I do when I either remember to or when there is something just “blog worthy”.

Some have asked me what it takes for something to be blog worthy, and I have never really answered that question because I am not sure that I can actually explain it much less quantify it. If it strikes me as amusing or happens in such a way that I can make it amusing then I would give it a shot. If it is thought provoking to me, then it gets a shot. If there is a teachable moment, then maybe that to. I like to keep my themes fairly wide open - which makes me a little more difficult to pin down. But then no one really enjoys being pinned down - tied down or even handcuffed sure, but pinned is completely different.

So I realize that I have totally missed doing something special for the actual anniversary of the launching of the Maru (as that happened on the 14th of August of 2006) and we are now in November of 2007 racing at breakneck speed recklessly towards 2008. But better late than never I say. Not that I want to do something special per say, but I have had over 10,000 unique hits on my blog in that time and that’s gotta be worth a mention I think. Not that I am trying to proverbially toot my own horn here, cause if that were my intent believe me you would know it. I am a horn tooter from way back. I am practically toot, toot, toot-a-licious.

So that is really all I am going to say at the moment about it, but it struck me as worthy of note. Sure there are tons of sites and blogs out there that have hundreds of thousands of readers and some with over a million I am sure, but there are even more that exist whose readership consists of their mothers, girlfriends and a couple of buddies who just feel obligated to. I can safely now say that I am not one of those as I am pretty sure that even my mother doesn’t read this - but at least a couple of other people’s moms do, and at the end of the day, I am satisfied with that. At least for now. In the next year maybe I will try to get 100,000 readers, or maybe I’ll just try to get my own mother to read it, who knows.

Anyway, I want to take this moment to thank all those who have ever been here - even those who just got fooled into coming here by some strange google search you did in the early hours of the morning where you thought you were gonna find something more, umm, we’ll say exotic than what we get here. (I am not just talking about Seth here, but all those folks that I don’t know too).

So as we head into the fall/winter holiday season, know that I am sure lots of things will happen in my life that are blog worthy and I shall share each and every one with you as we go along. Cause between God using me for His personal amusement, Ferf’s line of work, and the antics of the world’s most amazing 3 year old - there is always something happening.

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