tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58997203530823391092024-02-22T11:50:03.640-06:00You Are Not AloneThe true and often hilarious tales of a young father navigating through life.Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-18818038111080738752011-10-17T13:17:00.000-05:002011-10-17T13:17:48.272-05:00What I Know About Soccer II<div class="MsoNormal">Soccer season is upon us again.<span> </span>I’m proud to say that Griffin’s team (The Razordogs) has won both of their first two matches.<span> </span>This is something brand new to us as we went through the entire season last year without a win.<span> </span>Griffin seems to be adjusting well to it.<span> </span>His only complaint at the beginning of the season was that he was being coached by girls.<span> </span>They couldn’t possibly know what they were doing.<span> </span>I think the results speak for themselves.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m very grateful that I had a chance to <a href="http://surroundedbylife.blogspot.com/2010/09/what-i-know-about-soccer.html">study the sport</a> with my oldest son last year, because Gage started this year as well, and things are totally different in the 4 year old league.<span> </span>In fact, if I were to learn everything I knew about soccer from the footballing four-year olds, it would go something like this…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Soccer is not at all what I thought.<span> </span>I imagined it to be a game where teams fluidly passed the ball up and down the field with their feet trying to kick it passed the goalie and into the net.<span> </span>Instead, what I see resembles a cross between a flash mob and a mixed martial arts competition.<span> </span>A soccer ball has been thrown into the cage as an afterthought.<span> </span>There is an honest to goodness penalty box that is used during each match!<span> </span>I thought that was only in hockey, and yet I see the necessity of having it with these young ones.<span> </span>My son has logged quite a few minutes in the box already, but don’t think for a second that he’s the bully of the field.<span> </span>No, Gage takes as good as he gives.<span> </span>Last Thursday’s match left him with a sore on his tongue where he bit it during a tussle.<span> </span>Poor boy has barely been able to eat this weekend.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It turns out I was completely wrong about the goalie.<span> </span>There is no goalie.<span> </span>You would think that this would lead to some high scoring games, but that hasn’t been the case so far.<span> </span>In fact, I’ve found that a large amount of the game is played <i>behind</i> the goals, an area I previously thought was out of bounds.<span> </span>It seems that the only true boundary is the chain link fence of the softball field, and I think that’s only an artificial limit imposed by the fact that little ones can’t kick the ball through an open gate.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I also found that I was in error about the point of the game.<span> </span>In my mind, it was to kick the ball in the net and score a point.<span> </span>I was only half right.<span> </span>The goal of the game is simply to kick the ball or tackle the person who is keeping you from kicking the ball.<span> </span>Direction matters not.<span> </span>Kick it toward either net you want, kick it past the net, and then keep kicking it.<span> </span>The more time your foot is in contact with the ball, the more you are winning.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s thirty minutes of loosely officiated mayhem that the kids love.</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-91340931131137358242011-10-13T16:56:00.000-05:002011-10-13T16:56:16.330-05:00The Law is the Law<div class="MsoNormal">Most people are familiar with the various laws that rule the physical world around us.<span> </span>The Law of Gravity comes to mind as one my children have had ample opportunity to familiarize themselves with.<span> </span>But there’s a whole plethora of helpful laws, detailed on the internet, that help describe other aspects of this life.<span> </span>To save you from the laborious task of firing up your search engine, I’ll detail some of the more interesting ones here:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>The Law of Reality</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>Never get into fights with ugly people.<span> </span>They have nothing to lose.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>The Law of Self Sacrifice</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>When you starve with a tiger, the tiger starves last.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>Barnes’ Law</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>Nothing is impossible for the man who doesn’t have to do it himself.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>The Law of Probable Dispersal</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>Whatever hits the fan will not be evenly distributed.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>The Law of Volunteer Labor</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>People are always available for work in the past tense.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>Oliver’s Law</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>Experience is something you don’t get until right after you need it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>The Law of Observance</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>It is what it is, and it ain’t what it ain’t.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To this inimitable list, I’d like to add my own freshly minted law.<span> </span>After much consideration and scrutiny, I have noticed that people tend to long for the “old days” when everything was easier.<span> </span>We’ll look at a child who is longing with all their might to get older and tell them, “You don’t know how good you have it right now!<span> </span>You have so little responsibility, all your needs are taken care of, you only have to walk uphill one way on your trips to and from school!” etc, etc ad nauseum.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After a little introspection, I found myself thinking of my whole life in those terms.<span> </span>When I was in college, I fondly recalled the days of High School.<span> </span>After I was married, I reflected on our dating life and perceived that it was somehow a little easier back then.<span> </span>Once our first child came along, I realized just how simple life had been before, and how little we had taken advantage of it.<span> </span>Then child number two came, and I laughed at how hard I thought we had it with only one child.<span> </span>Child number three showed up, and I wept great heaving sobs at my own ignorance in thinking that two was difficult.<span> </span>Therefore, without trying to put any further pessimistic bent on it, I give you:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>Michael’s Law</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>Your life will never again be easier than it is right now.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I know that sounds really morbid when you write it out, but bear with me a minute.<span> </span>I didn’t say that life would never be more enjoyable or fun or fulfilling than it is right now; I only said it wouldn’t get any easier.<span> </span>There will always be another difficulty to rise up and take the place of the most recent obstacle you’ve overcome.<span> </span>The point of the law is to emphasize that we should try to look at our current situation and enjoy it for all its worth.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I know…easier said than done.<span> </span>But the law is the law.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-53327006323464191062011-10-04T17:43:00.002-05:002011-10-04T17:43:40.125-05:00Three Strikes! You're...awesome?<div class="MsoNormal">This past Saturday, our LifeGroup had a class get together at a local bowling alley.<span> </span>It was a fairly good day to go, since there was also an airshow in town and the seventy-two lanes were mostly empty.<span> </span>We were able to spread out over four lanes, one for men, one for women, and two lanes for the twelve kids we had along with us.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s safe to say that none of us will be entering the PBA anytime soon.<span> </span>There was all manner of technique on display, from a wicked curve ball to plain brute force, none of which resulted in impressive scores.<span> </span>There was also quite a lack of technique to be seen as well.<span> </span>The important part is that most everyone had a good time.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After all was said and done, I found that one thing really stood out to me.<span> </span>I mean no disrespect to the bowling alley or Professional/Amateur bowlers in general, but from what I’ve seen, this is just not a kid’s game.<span> </span>Much to their credit, they try to make it work, with rails that come up out of the floor to block the gutter and ramps to help the kids aim their ball and give it the necessary speed to make it to the pins.<span> </span>But let’s be real, the odds are stacked against children from the start…<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">First off, there’s the bowling ball.<span> </span>It’s an unwieldy six to sixteen pound slippery-smooth sphere that the child is supposed to manhandle from the ball return to the top of the lane.<span> </span>This might be overlookable if those stylish bowling shoes came standard with steel toes, but they don’t.<span> </span>Gage tried to set it down on the floor and kick it like a soccer ball…he only did that once.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That brings me to the technique of actually throwing the ball.<span> </span>There is a tendency among many children to hover close to their parents in social situations.<span> </span>You don’t have to be a genius to figure out that connecting the backswing of your ball with a toddlers face is largely undesirable.<span> </span>Compound that with the fact that not all of us are professional bowlers, and as such, the release of the bowling ball is not guaranteed to be in a forward direction.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But, assuming all that was fixed, and we were able to fling puffy white clouds at the bowling pins, there’s still the matter of the rules.<span> </span>For the first years of a child’s life, you pour yourself into teaching them how to take turns and treat each other fairly.<span> </span>Now, take them to a bowling alley and try to explain to your sobbing four year old why she doesn’t get her second turn after making a strike.<span> </span>It’s punishing them for doing a good job…not fair!<span> </span>And let’s not even mention the tenth frame, where some of their friends get THREE turns while they only get two.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Despite these “issues”, I think every kid had a great time.<span> </span>If you’re considering taking yours bowling, I’d suggest that you go ahead and do it.<span> </span>Maybe knowing these pitfalls ahead of time will help you safely and enjoyably navigate the game.<o:p></o:p></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-13461979101003804392011-09-26T12:02:00.000-05:002011-09-26T12:02:51.731-05:00The Knight and the Dragon<div class="zemanta-img separator zemanta-action-dragged"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Dragon_rearing_up_to_reach_medieval_knight_on_ledge.jpg" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Katherine Pyle. Dragon rearing up to reach med..." height="429" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/4b/Dragon_rearing_up_to_reach_medieval_knight_on_ledge.jpg/300px-Dragon_rearing_up_to_reach_medieval_knight_on_ledge.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 300px;">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Dragon_rearing_up_to_reach_medieval_knight_on_ledge.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Once upon a time, there was a brave young knight who lived in the kingdom of Aux Arc. His chivalrous deeds and heroic exploits quickly caught the attention of the king and won him the respect of all his peers. It came as no surprise to anyone when the king placed this brave young knight at the head of all his vaunted warriors.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">All went well for many seasons, as the knight continued his training and taking care of those under his charge. Yet, as is wont to happen, hard times fell upon the kingdom. The king worked diligently to keep his realm intact, first spending his own fortune, then eventually selling off bits and pieces of the castle, and finally, trading the very armor of his knights to buy food.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Through all this, the First Knight’s allegiance remained firm and he continued to support his liege. So, when tales of a dreaded dragon to the south began to fall on his ears, the young, brave knight stepped forward to put an end to this menace.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The king knew that this threat must be answered, but feared sending his most valuable servant to fight the fearsome foe, especially since there was no armor to be had in his territory. Therefore, he called in a favor from an old witch and had her ensourcel a set of leathers. The enchantment was said to protect the wearer from all manner of fire, and through much testing was proven to do just that.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The First Knight donned his equipment and headed southward to end the vile beasts reign of terror. The trip was long and slow, given the fact that the horses had been sold and he had to make the journey on foot. Yet, this provided him a chance to meet many people he would otherwise have never known.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In the town of Yomsburg, he defeated a senile sorcerer who wandered the village, setting fire to the structures. His unscorchable leather protecting him from the lunatics attacks. At Mt. Murphee, he rescued a ravishing damsel who was trapped by the lava flowing from its angry peak. The molten rock felt as mere waves of water lapping against his legs. He even stopped in the village of Brownwood and saved a kitten from a burning home.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Tales of his heroic bravery and ensorcelled ‘armor’ spread in his wake! Time after time, the enchanted leather had proven itself. So, it was with no small bit of courage and confidence that the brave knight stepped into the dragon’s lair and shouted his challenge to the dread beast. The mighty wyrm measured its strangely dressed opponent with reptilian eyes and prepared to defend itself. The knight, unencumbered by heavy iron plate, charged forward at unheard of speed…and was crushed to death by the dragon’s powerful tail.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">THE MORAL OF THE STORY: If Bobby Petrino doesn’t cobble together an offensive line that can hold its own, Tyler Wilson is going to get flattened every week until the football season ends or he lands in the hospital.</div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=45771d16-2a63-4a76-98e0-475a05a9f1fe" style="border: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-50715547997897686082011-09-23T07:26:00.000-05:002011-09-23T07:26:41.728-05:00Leggo My Eggo<div class="MsoNormal"><i>A new entry in the crazy letter writing campaign!<span> </span>I’m hoping this will land in the hands of someone with a sense of humor.<span> </span>I’ll post an answer from Kellog if and when I receive one.<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dear Eggo,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I wanted to take a moment to write your company and let you know how much our family enjoys your products.<span> </span>They are invaluable for those mornings when the kids need a quick breakfast before rushing out the door to school.<span> </span>The one exception to this rule is our three year-old who will eat them for breakfast every day whether we are in a rush or not.<span> </span>Sometimes he’ll even ask for them for lunch or dinner.<span> </span>As the most experienced Eggo connoisseur in our house, his favorite is Blueberry.<span> </span>The rest of us tend toward Buttermilk.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I do have one issue I’d like to discuss with you, though.<span> </span>A recent event in our house has opened my eyes to the dangers of unrestrained Eggo Waffle toppings.<span> </span>A few weeks ago, my wife and I took a little more time than normal getting ready in the morning.<span> </span>When I came out to check on the kids, the six year-old had already attempted to fix his younger brother some breakfast.<span> </span>From the side, I could tell that it was supposed to be an Eggo waffle, but the view from the top was totally different.<span> </span>Beneath a sheer layer of syrup and from atop the waffled surface stood a veritable mountain of butter that completely covered the edges of the round treat and rose to a peak in the center. <span> </span>It must have been applied with a mason’s trowel.<span> </span>There was so much, we could have made a topographical map of my three year-olds breakfast.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I stood there looking at the heap of saturated fats my boy was trying to ingest, something inside me snapped.<span> </span>I realized that this was unhealthy, and there had to be a better way.<span> </span>Taking one of the freshly toasted Eggos up, I tasted it, for the first time, without any toppings.<span> </span>I was surprised at how flavorful it was just by itself!<span> </span>And that’s when the idea hit me.<span> </span>Your product comes with everything it needs to make a delicious breakfast!<span> </span>Especially when you factor in the multiple choices like Blueberry, Strawberry, and even Chocolate Chip.<span> </span>At that moment, I changed into an Eggo Purist.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I realize that this is an individual journey that each person must make in their own time, but I believe your company has the power and responsibility to influence people in this direction.<span> </span>I checked your website and made note of your various Eggo products and the pictures displayed on the front of each box.<span> </span>To your credit, there are many that are presented in a “Purist friendly” manner (no toppings).<span> </span>However, I’m afraid you’ll find that most of these tend toward your specialized products and not the standard round waffles:<o:p></o:p></div><div align="center"> <table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;"><tbody>
<tr> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><u><span style="color: red;">Non-Purist<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 187.8pt;" valign="top" width="250"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><u><span style="color: #e36c0a; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;">Moderate Purist<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 131.4pt;" valign="top" width="175"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><u><span style="color: #00b050;">Purist<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div></td> </tr>
<tr> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Buttermilk<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 187.8pt;" valign="top" width="250"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Nutri-Grain Whole Wheat<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 131.4pt;" valign="top" width="175"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Chocolate Chip<o:p></o:p></div></td> </tr>
<tr> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Homestyle<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 187.8pt;" valign="top" width="250"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Nutri-Grain Low Fat<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 131.4pt;" valign="top" width="175"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Cinnamon Toast<o:p></o:p></div></td> </tr>
<tr> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Blueberry<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 187.8pt;" valign="top" width="250"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">FiberPlus Calcium Buttermilk<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 131.4pt;" valign="top" width="175"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">French Toast<o:p></o:p></div></td> </tr>
<tr> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Strawberry<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 187.8pt;" valign="top" width="250"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">FiberPlus Antioxidants Chocolate Chip<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 131.4pt;" valign="top" width="175"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Homestyle Minis<o:p></o:p></div></td> </tr>
<tr> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Cinnamon Brown Sugar<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 187.8pt;" valign="top" width="250"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 159.6pt;" valign="top" width="213"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Thick & Fluffy<o:p></o:p></div></td> <td style="padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 187.8pt;" valign="top" width="250"> <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">If you take the butter out of the picture and take the syrup out of the picture, I still believe your product is strong enough to stand on its own.<span> </span>Maybe this slight change in presentation could help influence people toward a healthier Purist lifestyle.<span> </span>And, in the end, isn’t it all about keeping your customers alive longer so they can purchase more of your delicious products?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Thank you for your time and consideration. <!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Michael Thomas<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-11805862103195381162011-09-19T19:36:00.001-05:002011-09-20T06:40:22.943-05:00Diary of a Stray Kitten<div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 28<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Life has gotten better since the People found me in a briar patch on the other side of the creek. I cried for two days before they came for me. I’m glad they did since it was getting harder and harder to catch those grasshoppers. The lady gave me milk today! It was so good, I hope I can stay here forever. Some little people came over today too. I bet they’d be fun to play with, I wish they’d come outside with me.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 29<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">The Lady took me to see <a href="http://www.cornerstone-vet.com/">Dr. Nick and Mrs. Mischelle</a> today! They were very nice. They checked to make sure I wasn’t sick and even told me when my birthday was. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I like the Lady! She gives me food and water and milk. I like it when we sit in the swing on the back porch.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 30<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I don’t like the Lady anymore. For no reason at all, she shoved me into a sink full of water and rubbed a foul, burning chemical all over me. I still smell like this ‘shampoo’. If I wanted to be wet, which I don’t, I’d have gone down to the creek and jumped in it. I think I’ll ignore her for the rest of the day. That should make a point.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 31<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">The little people came back over and played with me today. They were a bit rough, at first, but the Lady showed them how to play and they got better…at least the older one did. That smaller one likes to pull my tail and carry me upside down. I don’t like that. I liked it even less when he threw me off the porch. Thank goodness the Lady made him stay away from me for the rest of the time.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ll be more careful what I wish for in the future, as I no longer wish the little people to come outside and play with me.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 40<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Do I stay where I have food, water, and milk, or do I go back to the briar patch? The little people come to see me far more often than I like. If I can make it to the Griffin quickly enough, I’m mostly safe. However, the Gage will inevitably get his grubby little hands on me, and then I’m at his mercy. Some days, I can handle the abuse, and some days I just want to hide in the tractor or under the grill. What to do…what to do…<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 47<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I must be brief. The Gage has shown up a full day early and without his older brother. I’m running out of hiding places. Was also terrified to learn that there’s a third little person…the “Sister”. She’s the smallest of the three. Thankfully they keep her inside. She’ll be trouble, mark my words.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 54<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve decided to stay. I can deal with the Gage on a once a week basis. The Griffin is really nice and can teach me cool things, like how to give a ‘High-Five’. I’d like to give the Gage a ‘high-five.’ In the face. With maybe a chair. At least claws and teeth are still an option if things get too bad.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-64718701667393120392011-09-14T17:52:00.000-05:002011-09-14T17:52:14.864-05:00How NOT to Dance With a Total Stranger<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tMgQOYAPswU/TnEveuckIeI/AAAAAAAAADo/jO9C1vJQDy8/s1600/Tango1.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tMgQOYAPswU/TnEveuckIeI/AAAAAAAAADo/jO9C1vJQDy8/s320/Tango1.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">You may think the title to this post is a bit absurd, but I’d wager that almost everyone reading this has engaged in a tango with a total stranger at some point or another.<span> </span>I know I’ve had more than my fair share of experiences.<span> </span>You’re walking along, minding your own business when twenty feet away, your eyes lock with another person’s heading your direction.<span> </span>At this point, you’re hoping against hope that it’s not going to happen, yet it usually still does.<span> </span>You move right to go around, and she moves to her left, effectively putting you both on a collision course again.<span> </span>Quickly you make an adjustment to your route only to look up and see that she’s done the same thing.<span> </span>You’re no closer to solving this pirouetting predicament of circumventing the stranger, and you’re running out of time.<span> </span>Finally, after a few more failed attempts and with mere feet to spare, you both come to a complete stop and stand embarrassed about how the two of you couldn’t find a way to solve this without resorting to words. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Today, I’m going to tell you how to completely avoid these situations.<span> </span>The root of the problem lies in eye contact.<span> </span>Here in the western part of the world, we’re conditioned to maintain eye contact.<span> </span>Culturally, we believe that it shows interest and focus on what the communicator is saying.<span> </span>Unfortunately, eye contact can also be a sign of aggression or a means of flirting.<span> </span>In my opinion, eye contact shows attraction.<span> </span>When coupled with movement, it leads to this phenomenon of “quantum walker’s entanglement”, where both people are inexplicably drawn toward each other.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZkJpr1STxEc/TnEvrcvMLHI/AAAAAAAAADs/IwA0Gbeb1C0/s1600/Tango2.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZkJpr1STxEc/TnEvrcvMLHI/AAAAAAAAADs/IwA0Gbeb1C0/s320/Tango2.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">The solution, therefore, lies in breaking eye contact before your bodies become “entangled”.<span> </span>If you look away while maintaining your current speed and heading across the intervening distance, it is suddenly incumbent upon the other person (we’ll call her Mrs. X) to move out of the way or be run over.<span> </span>Almost without fail, Mrs. X will realize that your course is set and she needs to go around.<span> </span>The disaster is averted and no party comes away from the experience embarrassed!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Some of you more attentive readers noticed my use of the word ‘almost’ in the sentence above.<span> </span>The problem with any fool-proof plan is that the world is always making more ingenious fools.<span> </span>As a result, there are some cases where a person may decide they intend to walk straight through no matter what, in which this situation becomes a potentially humiliating game of ‘chicken’ with you not paying any attention to your opponent.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Again, a more astute reader may notice a second potentially disastrous situation arises if BOTH you and Mrs. X decide to use the method I’ve laid out.<span> </span>While many may contest that it is less of a red-faced experience to apologize for running into someone than to explain to your wife why you are engaged in what appears to be courtship dances with another lady, head-on collisions are wholly undesirable.<span> </span>Fortunately, the last step to my plan evades both issues.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After the look-away move, you need to return your attention toward your intended path right before contact is made.<span> </span>This gives you a chance to stop, should the other person decide to be a jerk or employ the same technique you are using.<span> </span>“How will I know when to look back,” you might ask.<span> </span>It’s a simple Algebra problem, like you’ve no doubt solved countless times in school:<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Mrs. X leaves her initial spot, traveling North at a given speed (let U equal her speed in ft/s).<span> </span>You leave your initial spot, traveling South at a different given speed (let V equal your speed in ft/s).<span> </span>The distance between you and Mrs. X must be estimated (in feet), and will be represented as Δ in our equations.<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Assuming constant velocity for both you and Mrs. X, our implementation of the distance formula is as follows:<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span> </span>(U*t) + (V*t) = Δ, where t is the amount of time it will take for both bodies to meet.<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Simplifying:<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span> </span>(U+V)t = Δ<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Solving for t yields:<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span> </span></i><!--[if gte msEquation 12]><m:oMath><i
style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif"'><m:r>t</m:r><m:r>= </m:r></span></i><m:f><m:fPr><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:"Cambria Math";mso-hansi-font-family:"Cambria Math";
font-style:italic;mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><m:ctrlPr></m:ctrlPr></span></m:fPr><m:num><i
style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif"'><m:r>Δ</m:r></span></i></m:num><m:den><i
style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif"'><m:r>U</m:r><m:r>+</m:r><m:r>V</m:r></span></i></m:den></m:f></m:oMath><![endif]--><!--[if !msEquation]--><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-text-raise: -8.5pt; position: relative; top: 8.5pt;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75"
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filled="f" stroked="f"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"/> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"/> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"/> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"/> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"/> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"/> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"/> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"/> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"/> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"/> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"/> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"/> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"/> </v:formulas> <v:path o:extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect"/> <o:lock v:ext="edit" aspectratio="t"/> </v:shapetype><v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" style='width:39pt;
height:21pt'> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\Firefly\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.png"
o:title="" chromakey="white"/> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></span><!--[endif]--><i><span> </span><o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SYaf9m-VhDc/TnEvOGnKF3I/AAAAAAAAADg/SuzLW99Hyds/s1600/EQ1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SYaf9m-VhDc/TnEvOGnKF3I/AAAAAAAAADg/SuzLW99Hyds/s1600/EQ1.jpg" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Once you’ve estimated all constants (Δ, U, and V) and solved the equation above, you know how much time you have until you run smack into Mrs. X.<span> </span>Unfortunately, there is one more variable that must be accounted for.<span> </span>Since you’ve been doing this calculation while you’re walking, you must also account for that precious time you lost while solving for <i>t</i> and subtract it from the total number of seconds.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Therefore, the complete equation would be<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R03MVNkiP4Y/TnEvX-4Lf6I/AAAAAAAAADk/vCMzpZDZMZY/s1600/EQ2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R03MVNkiP4Y/TnEvX-4Lf6I/AAAAAAAAADk/vCMzpZDZMZY/s1600/EQ2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span> </span></i><!--[if gte msEquation 12]><m:oMath><i
style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif"'><m:r>t</m:r><m:r>= </m:r></span></i><m:f><m:fPr><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:"Cambria Math";mso-hansi-font-family:"Cambria Math";
font-style:italic;mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><m:ctrlPr></m:ctrlPr></span></m:fPr><m:num><i
style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif"'><m:r>Δ</m:r></span></i></m:num><m:den><i
style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif"'><m:r>U</m:r><m:r>+</m:r><m:r>V</m:r></span></i></m:den></m:f><i
style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'><span style='font-family:"Cambria Math","serif"'><m:r>-</m:r><m:r>ψ</m:r></span></i></m:oMath><![endif]--><!--[if !msEquation]--><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-text-raise: -8.5pt; position: relative; top: 8.5pt;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75"
style='width:60pt;height:21pt'> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\Firefly\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image003.png"
o:title="" chromakey="white"/> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></span><!--[endif]--><span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>,where ψ is the amount of time it took you to solve the previous part of the equation.<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You know, in retrospect, it’s probably just better to look back toward your traveling vector after a second or two of glancing away.<span> </span>I would highly suggest this for people who are terrible at estimation or are mathematically impaired by fractions…or both.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well there you have it!<span> </span>Hopefully this little info-blog will help you avoid those awkward social situations that sometimes arise from dancing with total strangers.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-65489547601246208512011-09-12T18:37:00.000-05:002011-09-12T18:37:09.901-05:00Hurricane Haven<div class="MsoNormal">I was thrilled to open the mailbox and find a very official looking letter in a brown envelope from Florida.<span> </span>NOAA replied to my <a href="http://surroundedbylife.blogspot.com/2011/08/eye-of-storm.html">request that a hurricane be named after Haven</a>!<span> </span>Here is their answer:<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dear Mr. Thomas,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Thank you for your e-mail. {It was actually a letter}<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Since 1953, Atlantic tropical storms have been named from lists originated by the National Hurricane Center.<span> </span>They are now maintained and updated by an international committee of the World Meteorological Organization (WMO).<span> </span>Six lists are used in rotation.<span> </span>Thus, the 2011 list will be used again in 2017.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The only time that there is a change in the list is if a storm is so deadly or costly that the future use of its name on a different storm would be inappropriate for reasons of sensitivity.<span> </span>If that occurs, then at an annual meeting by the WMO Region IV committee (called primarily to discuss many other issues), the offending name is stricken from the list and another name is selected to replace it.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It is certainly possible that the name “Haven” could be selected sometime in the future if a storm with a female name beginning with the letter “H” must be replaced.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kind regards,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Dennis Feltgen<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Public Affairs Officer<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Meteorologist<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">NOAA Communications & External Affairs<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">National Hurricane Center<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">This would mean that the earliest possible storm to be named after my daughter would be in 2018.<span> </span>For this to occur, next year’s tropical storm Helene would have to be a very destructive one.<span> </span>If we miss that, then the next date would be 2020 as long as the 2014 storm Hanna is devastating.<span> </span>Failing that, the new date would be 2022 as long as the 2016 storm Hermine causes a big enough economic impact.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I won’t be rooting for death and destruction any time soon, but should those factors all come together and cause need of a new “H” name, I hope Mr. Dennis Feltgen can sway the committee to consider the name Haven.<o:p></o:p></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-25146752014617411032011-09-09T07:19:00.000-05:002011-09-09T07:19:11.662-05:00Miss You in a Heartbeat<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am excited because today marks my 100<sup>th</sup> post to
this blog.<span> </span>I couldn’t believe it myself,
but I went back and checked in my archives, and sure enough there were 99 other
posts.<span> </span>I’m practically a pillar of the
internet, now!<span> </span>Take me away, and I’m
sure the whole thing would come crashing down.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That being said, I don’t have an earth shattering post that
I’ve been saving up for this grand occasion.<span>
</span>I’m simply going to reach back into our short history as parents and
pull out a significant story to share with you.<span>
</span>This could be titled <i>That Time We
Lost Griffin</i>.<span> </span>Yes, I’m sure you’re
surprised that parents as incredible as us could do such a thing, but it
happens.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First, let it be known that we do not make it a policy to
lose track of our children, but as any parent can attest, once they start
walking and developing a little mind of their own it gets more difficult to
ensure that they stay where they’re supposed to.<span> </span>Secondly, this has only begun to happen since
Haven’s birth and in situations where we are both present.<span> </span>So, it could be due to inadequate
communication and the fact that we’re outnumbered.<span> </span>Regardless…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time this happened was on a trip to Silver Dollar
City earlier in the year.<span> </span>The kids had
done really well up until the point where we wondered into Geyser Gulch.<span> </span>Their eyes widened as they took in the
various water sprayers and the three story playhouse complete with slides and
air cannons for shooting foam balls.<span>
</span>Tamara found a seat at the far end of the play area and set to taking
care of Haven.<span> </span>I took the boys and
headed up the playhouse.<span> </span>We did the
slides and shot the cannons for a long time.<span>
</span>At one point, Gage wanted to go do another slide, so I told Griffin
exactly where we were going.<span> </span>I expected
him to follow.<span> </span>He didn’t.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was the beginning of a terrifying 15 minute search of
the area.<span> </span>When we got off the slide and
he wasn’t behind us, I checked where I had left him.<span> </span>He wasn’t there.<span> </span>Gage and I sat still and scanned the area to
see if we could see Griffin.<span> </span>Once that
failed, I headed back to Tamara and dropped the younger kid with her.<span> </span>Taking the stairs of the playhouse two and
three at a time, I went to the top and worked my way back down…three times.<span> </span>Panic was beginning to creep in at the edges
of my mind.<span> </span>Somewhere in my head, a
timer was incrementing, and with each tick of the clock I knew the search area
was widening.<span> </span>What if someone took
him?<span> </span>What if he was looking for us and
wondered out of Geyser Gulch?<span> </span>I may not
even be looking in the right place!<span> </span>What
was he even wearing?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I went to the area entrance and scanned the crowd, hoping to
see a little blond haired boy playing in the sprinklers.<span> </span>I worked my way back toward the rest of the
family, stopping once to pop my head in the bottom floor of the playhouse and
look around.<span> </span>Ducking back outside, I
walked slowly, scanning the faces of each child, all the while hoping he
somehow made it back to his mother.<span> </span>When
I got within eyesight of Tamara, I could tell by the look on her face that he
wasn’t there.<span> </span>“Have you looked at the
water cannons,” she asked.<span> </span>“He was
talking about those when we came in.”<span> </span>I
didn’t know where they were at, so I stayed with the two youngest kids while
she went and checked them out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moments later, a water soaked little towhead came bounding
around the corner with a thundercloud of a mother in close pursuit.<span> </span>Desperate worry changed to instant relief,
which was immediately evaporated by red-hot anger.<span> </span>The boy got a good chewing on by both
parents, and then was relegated to holding a hand for the rest of the visit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a moment of freedom, the little guy made a bad
choice.<span> </span>He didn’t even know it until he
was being ‘read the Riot Act’.<span> </span>You can
teach and remind and practice all you want, but there are inevitably times when
it is up to them to make the right decision.<span>
</span>I guess it’s true what they say, “You can lead a horse to spilled milk,
but you can’t make him cry.”<span> </span>Or
something like that…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-55954615707545874632011-09-06T22:57:00.000-05:002011-09-06T22:57:20.248-05:00Devil's Den<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Monday marked the boys’ very first hiking trip at a state
park.<span> </span>We woke up to a clear blue sky and
a temperature in the mid-eighties, so it was a perfect day to get outside.<span> </span>Gage actually complained about it being too
cold!<span> </span>After a long drive to the park,
Tamara dumped us out by the Devil’s Den self-guided trail and off we went.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC3d0qi1CKzCGmsE4kAZKxBIhia6T0dDkQPsS1O4XhFBG4HFh6Be3Fol7QtCTF4H9ciURH3IC9BiwwP9o9GXhDTqFnjV1vQ-BZm8arnw8nhszIO_rNDtntz87VS0Hsm15Im0biwWuYunQ5/s1600/Hiking0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC3d0qi1CKzCGmsE4kAZKxBIhia6T0dDkQPsS1O4XhFBG4HFh6Be3Fol7QtCTF4H9ciURH3IC9BiwwP9o9GXhDTqFnjV1vQ-BZm8arnw8nhszIO_rNDtntz87VS0Hsm15Im0biwWuYunQ5/s320/Hiking0028.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The older one immediately assailed me with questions about
how long it would take to get to the cave, but those were quickly silenced once
we reached our first rock formation.<span>
</span>Griffin was all over the place, climbing and poking around the many crevices
that lined the hillside.<span> </span>Gage enjoyed
his fair share of climbing too, but was more enthralled with the oversized
acorns that dotted the ground.<span> </span>After the
first four, I declined to carry anymore, so he made due with stuffing them in
the waistband of his shorts.<span> </span>I’m certain
that if he had pockets, his pants would’ve been dragging the ground by the end
of the day.<span> </span>EVERY acorn he came across
got added to his collection. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At times, it was a nerve-wracking experience for me,
watching a six year-old and a three year-old, with so many sheer drops and
steep slopes.<span> </span>I was constantly herding
them by hand and by voice as we traveled through some of the more dangerous
areas.<span> </span>It was during one of those times
that the following conversation ensued:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Griffin:<span> </span>Did you see that big hole up there?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me:<span> </span>Yes, that’s really high up, isn’t it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Griffin:<span> </span>Yeah!<span>
</span>I know what this is called.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me:<span> </span>What’s that?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Griffin:<span> </span>It’s a buffalo.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me:<span> </span>I think you mean a bluff.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Griffin:<span> </span>Yeah, that’s
it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then a little further down the trail, with Gage in the lead:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me:<span> </span>Gage, be careful.<span> </span>Those stairs are steep.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Griffin:<span> </span>Yeah, it’s a buff.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Gage (with
all the indignation a 3 year-old can muster):<span>
</span>I KNOW WHAT A BUFFALO IS!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me:<span> </span>It’s ‘b-luff’.<span> </span>The word is ‘bluff’.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Griffin:<span> </span>Yeah, that’s
it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQIR3Ei1ZB5PltIgWe8nMxaB12kNg3JeLOIZf_TlaTzrKbcm97UaDkWNBhJEcRt3ZsOoZaoJ3gjwXv83q-WcUpUT12QeW7MLiwV1Lzeavt-FLy5Q1q9TxYVfNCXBQe1F-IFFwN_71CwyN/s1600/Hiking0026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQIR3Ei1ZB5PltIgWe8nMxaB12kNg3JeLOIZf_TlaTzrKbcm97UaDkWNBhJEcRt3ZsOoZaoJ3gjwXv83q-WcUpUT12QeW7MLiwV1Lzeavt-FLy5Q1q9TxYVfNCXBQe1F-IFFwN_71CwyN/s320/Hiking0026.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Griffin next to his 'buffalo'</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the end of the trail, my boys were starting to get a
little hungry.<span> </span>We crossed the street and
found a nice shaded picnic table to enjoy our meal on.<span> </span>While we ate, we watched kids playing in the
water and throwing rocks.<span> </span>This proved to
cause an insurmountable setback with the boys finishing their food, so I packed
it all back up while they shed their socks and shoes and hit the water.<span> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It didn’t take way too long for the kids to find a snake
happily making its way through the shallows, with a minnow in its mouth.<span> </span>I came over and knelt down as we watched it
struggle through the water, desperately looking for a place to make shore that
wasn’t covered with people.<span> </span>Suddenly,
from out of nowhere, a large rock hurdled over my shoulder and slammed into the
small reptile.<span> </span>The fish was jolted
loose, and the snake disappeared.<span> </span>I
looked to see who the assailant was, only to find my oldest son standing
there.<span> </span>“Griffin,” I said, “I know that Mammy
doesn’t like snakes and kills every one she sees, but I don’t want you killing
them unless they are trying to hurt you.”<span>
</span>He thought about this for a moment, then replied, “OK.<span> </span>But it was hurting that fish.”<span> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes,” I said, “But that snake has to eat something, and as
long as it’s not you, I don’t want you trying to kill them.”<span> </span>Then I added, “That was a really accurate
shot, by the way.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His reply:<span> </span>“Of course
it was.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We walked to the store, had some ice cream, and then the
boys wanted to hit the trail again.<span> </span>So
off we went to scramble about the hills until it was nearly time for Tamara to
pick us up.<span> </span>With nothing else to do, we
found our way back to the picnic table and then down to the water for more rock
throwing fun.<span> </span>Griffin and Gage
immediately went over and introduced themselves to two college guys and tried
skipping rocks with them.<span> </span>At one point I
looked up to see my youngest pointing over at me and announcing, “That’s my
daddy over there.<span> </span>His name’s ‘Daddy’.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Being thusly introduced, I made my way over and helped them
skip rocks until our ride showed up.<span> </span>It
turned out to be a wonderful day!<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOOA4Sf7XKUv_OEhOfWExNW8_ZPnWxXPJYjAFDj8S6SDzp7ZcX_FO5NgSQo82HsAvFleUvz8bWh5M3wlHWpZBw8pQirLwR8gTrb7GswF5S2koLy3VPoVP5j4iunZU2PePHOFnksSaIEfY/s1600/Hiking0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOOA4Sf7XKUv_OEhOfWExNW8_ZPnWxXPJYjAFDj8S6SDzp7ZcX_FO5NgSQo82HsAvFleUvz8bWh5M3wlHWpZBw8pQirLwR8gTrb7GswF5S2koLy3VPoVP5j4iunZU2PePHOFnksSaIEfY/s320/Hiking0030.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tired, Dirty, and Happy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-75785674246076742302011-09-05T08:44:00.001-05:002011-09-05T08:44:47.176-05:00The Halfway Point<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My wife and I have reached the point where we’ve known each
other longer than we’ve <i>not</i> known
each other.<span> </span>I think it’s a significant
milestone in our relationship, and no small feat, at least on her part.<span> </span>While I got myself a normal wife,
unfortunately, she got herself an engineer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It does have its upsides, to be sure.<span> </span>However, there are also a myriad of peculiarities
that come as part of the package.<span> </span>Does
the career choice dictate the behavior, or does the behavior influence the
career choice?<span> </span>I don’t know.<span> </span>But I do know that what she puts up with is
almost universal to my kind.<span> </span>I found an
incredibly detailed list on these traits and made a few modifications to
it.<span> </span>So, by way of explanation, and in honor of Labor Day, here are
some of the trials associated with my job that she’s had to endure over the years:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Social Skills</u><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Granted, she’s done a great job in training this out of me,
but engineers have entirely different objectives when it comes to social
interaction.<span> </span>“Normal” people expect to
accomplish several unrealistic things from socializing like:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Having stimulating and thought-provoking
conversation<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Creating important social contacts<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Feeling connectedness with other human beings<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In contrast to “normal” people, engineers tend to have more
rational objectives when it comes to social interactions:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Demonstrate mental superiority and mastery of
all subjects<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Avoid getting invited to something unpleasant<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Get it over with as quickly as possible<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Fascination With Gadgets</u><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To the engineer, all matter in the universe can be placed
firmly into one of two categories:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span><span>1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Things
that need to be fixed<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span><span>2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Things
that will need to be fixed after I’ve had a few minutes to mess with them<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At their very core, engineers are problem solvers.<span> </span>They love it so much that if there are no
problems handily available, they will create their own problems.<span> </span>Normal people, for the most part, don’t
understand this concept; they believe that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix
it.<span> </span>Engineers believe that if it ain’t
broke, it probably doesn’t have enough features yet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No engineer looks at a television remote control without
wondering what it would take to add a tazer function.<span> </span>To us, the world is a toy box full of
sub-optimized and feature-poor toys.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Fashion and Appearance<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This pains me to write, but without the encouragement of a
loving wife or girlfriend, clothes are the lowest priority for an engineer.<span> </span>Assuming the basic threshold for temperature
and decency has been satisfied, the objective of clothing has been met.<span> </span>Anything else is a waste.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Love of Star Trek<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Engineers love all of the “Star Trek” television shows and
movies.<span> </span>It’s a small wonder, since the
engineers on the starship Enterprise are portrayed as heroes exploring the secrets
of the universe.<span> </span>This is much more
glamorous than the real life of an engineer, which consists mostly of hiding
from the universe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Dating and Marriage<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dating is never easy for engineers.<span> </span>A normal person will employ various indirect
and duplicitous methods to create a false impression of attractiveness.<span> </span>Engineers are largely incapable of placing
appearance above function.<span> </span>Fortunately,
engineers have an ace in the hole.<span> </span>They
are widely recognized as superior marriage material:<span> </span>intelligent, dependable, employed, honest,
and somewhat handy around the house.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Honesty<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Engineers are always honest in matters of technology and
human relationships.<span> </span>It’s for this very
reason that it’s best to keep them away from customers, romantic interests, and
other people who can’t handle the truth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is this strident vain of honesty that can make watching
movies with engineers an excruciating experience.<span> </span>Not only will they spend the entire film
analyzing the true capabilities or presentation of all technical matters on the
big screen, they’ll see fit to share it with those present.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Frugality<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Engineers are notoriously frugal.<span> </span>This is not because of cheapness or mean
spirit; it is simply because every spending situation is seen as a problem in
optimization, that is, “How can I escape this situation while retaining the
greatest amount of cash?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Powers of Concentration<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If there is one trait that best defines an engineer, it is
the ability to concentrate on one subject to the complete exclusion of
everything else.<span> </span>This, on occasion,
causes them to be pronounced dead prematurely.<span>
</span>Some funeral homes in high-tech areas have started checking resumes
before processing the bodies.<span> </span>Anyone
with a degree in electrical engineering or experience in computer programming
is propped up in the lounge for a few days just to see if they “snap out of
it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Risk<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Engineers hate risk.<span>
</span>They will eliminate it at every possible turn.<span> </span>This is understandable, given that when an
engineer makes one little mistake, the media will treat it like it’s a big deal
(i.e. Hindenburg, Space Shuttle Challenger, Titanic, Ford Pinto).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The risk/reward calculation for engineers looks something
like this:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
RISK:<span> </span>Public humiliation and the death of thousands
of innocent people.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
REWARD:<span> </span>A certificate
of appreciation in a handsome plastic frame.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Being practical people, engineers evaluate this balance of
risks and rewards and decide that risk is not a good thing. <span> </span>The best way to avoid risk is by advising that
any activity is technically impossible for reasons that are far too complicated
to explain.<span> </span>If that is not sufficient to
halt a project, then the engineer will fall back to a second line of
defense:<span> </span>“It’s technically possible but
it will cost too much.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Ego<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ego-wise, the most important thing to an engineer is how
smart they are.<span> </span>The fastest way to get
an engineer to solve a problem is to declare that the problem is
unsolvable.<span> </span>No engineer can walk away
from an unsolvable problem.<span> </span>No illness
or distraction is sufficient to get them off the case.<span> </span>These types of challenges quickly become
personal – a battle between the engineer and the laws of nature.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Along those lines, nothing is more threatening to the engineer
than the suggestion that somebody has more technical skill.<span> </span>Sometimes, less scrupulous people (managers)
will use that knowledge as a lever to extract more work from the engineer.<span> </span>For instance, an engineer might say that a
project is technically impossible to complete (code for “I don’t want to do
it”), and a manager would respond by saying, “I’ll have Bob look into it.<span> </span>He’s good at solving difficult problems.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-2677970861530100262011-09-02T18:05:00.000-05:002011-09-02T18:05:20.120-05:00Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep<br />
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I’m beginning to think that learning to pray is a lifelong
process. The closer our relationship
with God, the better we learn how to communicate with Him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m seeing flashes of that with the boys. There are nights, when it seems like they
really connect with heaven. Even Gage,
unprompted, has broken into a prayer of thanksgiving, followed by a simple
request for good sleep and rain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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However…being the children that they are, there are still
some off the wall requests that get lobbed toward the throne of God. I’ll try to chronicle a few of them for your
reading pleasure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At an earlier age, Griffin thanked our Creator for the color
red and the number 7. The only explanation
I have is that it was either a really interesting week in preschool or he was
channeling Sesame Street.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As he grew, my oldest boy became quite adept at praying for
everybody, and I mean everybody. He went
through every name he knew, then stated a general “help everybody else” for
those he didn’t know. One time, he
changed his prayer to “help everybody except the bad guys” and then started
telling God, in detail, what he’d do to the bad guys if they tried to kidnap
him. I had to finally break in on him
and explain how Jesus wanted us to pray <i>for</i>
our enemies, not pray for ways that we’d be able to hurt them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Gage is where most of these nuggets of humor come from. For the longest time, his prayers consisted
of praying that all his favorite cartoon characters would get good sleep. The cast of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Little
Einsteins, and Chugington should have been some of the most rested and
refreshed cartoons in the business.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As he’s grown, so has his range of requests. A few weeks ago, my mother found a stray
kitten and fell in love with it. The
boys did to. A couple of nights after
she adopted it, Gage was saying his prayers and threw in, “Please help Mammy
find another cat so Griffin can have one and I can have one.” We quickly interceded on her behalf and
prayed to the contrary. Had his request
succeeded, I’m sure he’d have tried to pray a whole zoo down on her head.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Recently, his prayers tend toward thanking God for the rain
and for trains, but Wednesday night I guess he decided that God was answering
his petitions for precipitation so well that he’d go for broke and request
something a little more personal. Out of
nowhere he threw in, “Thank you for letting us go to Chuck E. Cheese and the
mall tomorrow.” What!? Welllll…James <i>did</i> say, “…ye have not because ye ask not (James 4:2).” I’m just fairly certain he didn’t have a pizza
peddling rodent in mind when he wrote that particular scripture.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yup. Prayer time can
be pretty interesting on any given day.
If you have a moment to respond, I’d love to hear about the humorous
things your kids have prayed for!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-40563729247377561952011-08-31T21:45:00.002-05:002011-09-12T18:38:04.359-05:00Eye of The Storm<div class="MsoNormal"><i>Disclaimer: This is a copy of a letter sent to N.O.A.A. last week. It was in production before Irene ever came near the coast, so it was not written to belittle the people who have endured her wrath or experienced loss as a result. Now, that being said, I believe those who would get most offended are still without power, so…let’s just get this underway before they come back online… <o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Dear NOAA,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">In light of the recent increase in tropical storm activity, I have been perusing your website. I saw a link for the Hurricane naming list and was fascinated by its history. I did notice, however, that in the ‘H’ category, the name ‘Haven’ was not used. I would like to take a few minutes of your time to make a case for why I believe this is a name worthy of entering your rotation.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I think you would agree with me that two of the most notable traits of a hurricane is that they are destructive and they are most often named for women. Let me just say that I totally get the logic at work there. It just so happens that I have a 10-month old daughter named Haven, and when I think of raw destructive power, this little girl is what pops to mind.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Since she learned to crawl, there’s been no end to the path of devastation she leaves in her wake. She sweeps through the house, howling with glee at the mayhem she will cause. Clearing a coffee table, emptying a cabinet, or yanking over a trashcan is done in the blink of an eye. Other times, she moves silently, like the eye of the storm, waiting to get a hold of the really dangerous things. She’s already destroyed her mama’s expensive candle stand (a hurricane candle stand), and it makes me extremely nervous at how she eyes the grandfather clock.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcfhcIplLoTylOGgHAbkT2XamOSL8UsBebTIbGUq-D81AJJ40nn-LknB6pWhDoGmhXhgqIoanSysTKJemRoLw4cAKwdMfKXhdzcAIPxB-rGd77uGVca5fUdGEdJfFsRtNTmtxREq73G2_/s1600/DSC01122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcfhcIplLoTylOGgHAbkT2XamOSL8UsBebTIbGUq-D81AJJ40nn-LknB6pWhDoGmhXhgqIoanSysTKJemRoLw4cAKwdMfKXhdzcAIPxB-rGd77uGVca5fUdGEdJfFsRtNTmtxREq73G2_/s320/DSC01122.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caught in the act</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">“But what about water,” you may find yourself asking. Yes, we have that covered too. Haven is amazing in the water. Bath time is an event that requires at least two or three towels to clean up. No liquid is safe from this little one’s ability to gather and fling it with wild abandon. The dog bowl is her favorite target. She’ll silently crawl into the kitchen, stand up at the dog’s feeder, and splash water all over the floor and walls until the nearest adult extricates her from her fun.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Right now, she may be containable, but I estimate that she’s just building in intensity. It’s for these reasons that I believe Haven deserves a place in your naming rotation. It’s interesting to note that the word ‘haven’ denotes a place of refuge or rest. I think the inherent irony is something the Hurricane Naming Convention has been missing for much too long.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Thank you for your consideration. I await your reply.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Sincerely,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Michael Thomas<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>NOAA was kind enough to reply. <a href="http://surroundedbylife.blogspot.com/2011/09/hurricane-haven.html">Here's their answer</a>.<o:p></o:p></i></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-73461109596825725832011-08-29T20:08:00.000-05:002011-08-29T20:08:29.159-05:00Pop Goes The...Elbow?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">One incredibly annoying problem inherent in all babies is the inability to communicate.<span> </span>The best they can possibly do when something is amiss, is cry for all they’re worth.<span> </span>While this can roughly let the parent know that something is wrong, that wrongness could range from a wet diaper, to an empty stomach, to the vocalizing of displeasure at having her hand stepped on by the dog.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Therefore, it is quite a relief when they reach that age where they can accurately relay these important messages, and take the guesswork out of the whole parenting equation.<span> </span>This is something I was very happy about this past weekend.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On Saturday, Tamara’s grandmother had her 91<sup>st</sup> birthday.<span> </span>It was a great party with smoked ribs, mac & cheese, and some of the best birthday cake I’ve ever had.<span> </span>We had fun talking, doing a little archery, and playing football in the front yard.<span> </span>My two boys also had a ball terrorizing Aunt Francis’ dog and cats.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was during one of these canine play periods that Gage ended up falling to the floor and injuring his arm.<span> </span>The boy was inconsolable and couldn’t use his hand to grip much of anything.<span> </span>A couple of Tamara’s cousins work in the field of nursing, and they looked the boy over pretty closely.<span> </span>There was no swelling or discoloration, but they advised us to get him some motrin, ice it down, and let him rest for a while.<span> </span>At this point, we honestly didn’t know if he was really, really hurt or if there was just a good measure of tiredness involved.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We took him home, gave him the drugs, and put him to bed.<span> </span>The boy went out like a light, and slept all night long.<span> </span>However, the next morning, Griffin woke me up about 6:00 and said Gage was calling for me and he couldn’t get out of bed.<span> </span>We got him up and Tamara took him to ProMed as soon as it opened.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The doctor examined him and suspected that it was a dislocated elbow, but took some X-rays just to make sure.<span> </span>After all, you don’t want to go yanking around on an arm if it is, in fact, broken.<span> </span>Gage thought it was pretty cool to look at the pictures of his bones, and the films ended up confirming what the doctor thought.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Gage had a dislocated elbow, and it was merely a matter of popping it back in.<span> </span>It will not be an experience that ranks very high on his “All Time Favorites” list, but Gage was immediately able to move his hand and arm again.<span> </span>His first item of business was to console himself by picking up his green blanket and rubbing the tag on his lip.<span> </span>That’s our boy!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m so glad he was able to tell us where the pain was and what actions caused him physical discomfort.<span> </span>It made it possible to quickly get him the help he needed.<span> </span>I suppose we should enjoy this while it lasts.<span> </span>For some reason, we tend to grow out of that phase where we can express our pain.<span> </span>Physical pain, sure, but the stuff that eats us up from the inside we tend to just keep to ourselves.<span> </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal">It could be because of pride, though when you sit down and think about it, that’s a pretty silly reason to live in misery.<span> </span>It might be that we think we’re the only one going through an issue, which again, is a somewhat ignorant assumption.<span> </span>Everybody has problems, everyone needs a friend, and at many points in our lives, we all need help to make it through.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This was really highlighted for me at Sunday night’s church service.<span> </span>We had communion, then spent some time talking and praying with different individuals.<span> </span>It almost seemed chaotic watching people randomly walk all about the church and meet in small groups to share and pray, but there was no chaos to it.<span> </span>It was a deliberately choreographed event where people followed the urgings of God’s Holy Spirit.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m thoroughly convinced that we weren’t meant to fight through life alone.<span> </span>Even though most of us can make it through a crisis, it’s the day to day living that tends to eat you alive.<span> </span>We all have problems, and I think most all of us have friends that care enough to help us work through them.<span> </span>It’s really up to us to point to where the pain is and tell them how it hurts.<o:p></o:p></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-36876076281831221032011-08-26T06:47:00.000-05:002011-08-26T06:47:59.665-05:00Untagged<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">A desperate wail echoed into the early evening hours.<span> </span>This was no ordinary cry of pain or anger, but a soul wrenching howl of anguish and loss.<span> </span>Tamara quickly ran from the bedroom to find our youngest son crumpling to the floor in the hallway.<span> </span>He was on the edge of pure hysteria.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“What’s wrong,” she asked, trying to usher Gage away from the full scale breakdown he was approaching.<span> </span>Amidst the sobbing and tears, she was able to decipher one word…‘Tag’.<span> </span>Yes, the unthinkable had happened.<span> </span>The washing instructions had completely torn away from one of his favorite blankets and now lay lifelessly on the floor.<span> </span>Those of you who know Gage can understand what a tragedy this is.<span> </span>If you don’t quite get it, you’ve probably not heard about his <a href="http://surroundedbylife.blogspot.com/2010/08/tag-youre-it.html">love of tags</a>.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It took a good deal of time to calm his aching heart.<span> </span>With great care, Tamara was finally able to convince him that she could sew it back on.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I was telling this story in my LIfeGroup, one of the other guys mentioned that his oldest daughter has the exact opposite problem.<span> </span>She has a fit if any of her clothes have a tag in them.<span> </span>He said they have no idea what size any of her garments are, or what the washing instructions might be for them.<span> </span>They have to cut the tags out of every one or she won’t wear them.<span> </span>The suggestion was made that they need to collect all those tags and then we could sew them on a blanket for Gage.<span> </span>I think it’s a great idea!<span> </span>I can almost imagine the look of befuddlement and delight on his face at seeing an entire blanket ringed in tags!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In other tag related news, we may have an issue of hard feelings developing between Gage and his sister.<span> </span>For the better part of five years, our dining room chairs have sat virtually unscathed as they silently performed their duty.<span> </span>Haven has changed all of that.<span> </span>Single handedly, she has ripped almost every single manufacturers tag from the bottom of these seats.<span> </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal">The first time Gage came across this grisly sight, he did nothing short of panic.<span> </span>“Sister’s got a tag,” he screamed, loud and long enough to hear from three rooms away.<span> </span>By the time I got to the kitchen he was bouncing back and forth with tears streaming down his face.<span> </span>He couldn’t understand how she would even want to do something so horrible to those precious, hallowed things.<span> </span>Those two may always be at odds over their contrasting treatment of tags.<span> </span>Only time will tell.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-74156901261071243842011-08-24T21:04:00.002-05:002011-08-24T21:04:55.091-05:00Scouts Honor<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Well, it’s reached that time of year, again, where my wife and I try to over-commit ourselves.<span> </span>Soccer season is hiding just around the corner, waiting to pounce on us and kick the snot out of our Saturday mornings.<span> </span>The difficulty is multiplied by the fact that both Griffin and Gage will be playing this season.<span> </span>Despite the long days ahead, I’m certain they’ll have a wonderful time.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Aside from my wife being tied up with PTO this year, we’ve also added something new to the mix.<span> </span>Griffin came home from school on Monday completely frantic about how awesome Boy Scouts is.<span> </span>I’ve got to hand it to whoever did the in-class recruiting; You…Were…Incredible.<span> </span>He hit me as soon as I walked through the front door, brandishing a colorful sheet of propaganda, showing boys in the midst of various exciting activities.<span> </span>Usually our quiet one, Griffin continued to jabber all through dinner about the things we would do once we were in Boy Scouts.<span> </span>“A bit excited are we,” I asked my wife.<span> </span>“Oh, I’d say so,” she replied.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A good night’s sleep did little to diminish his fervor.<span> </span>As he sat at the breakfast table on Tuesday, he held an apple in one hand, and his hallowed brochure in the other.<span> </span>“We’re going to the meeting tonight aren’t we,” he asked.<span> </span>I told him we would and went about the rest of my morning while he talked of camping, archery, and BB guns.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That evening, I was once again met at the door with questions of when we were going to go.<span> </span>I told him it would be after dinner, and that’s when he asked me, “So, do we just follow the guy after it’s over?”<span> </span>I realized right then that he had the wrong idea about what would go down this night.<span> </span>I think he somehow got it in his head that we’d sign up, walk out the back door of the school cafeteria, hop in a canoe, and paddle toward our campsite.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s always a bummer when your expectations get dashed.<span> </span>He did handle it pretty well, though.<span> </span>I explained that we were just signing up tonight, and these fun activities were events that would take place throughout the year.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It should have come as no surprise that he’d think this way.<span> </span>He’s being brought up in a society that’s just not geared to wait for things.<span> </span>We cook with microwaves, we have the internet at our fingertips, and we have fast food that sometimes just isn’t fast enough.<span> </span>Our family rarely watches anything on TV that hasn’t been DVR’d.<span> </span>We don’t have time for commercials!<span> </span>The kids are completely baffled at what “live TV” is.<span> </span>We watched a show during Shark Week and they couldn’t fathom why we wouldn’t fast forward through the commercials.<span> </span>There was just no explaining it to them.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sure, we’ve made life convenient for ourselves, but it leaves me to wonder what kind of expectations we’re instilling in our children.<span> </span>Are we making their lives easier, or hurting them in the long run?<o:p></o:p></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-72664497294158139392011-08-22T20:52:00.000-05:002011-08-22T20:52:38.105-05:00The Pecking Order<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I’ve touched on the various personality traits of my children before.<span> </span>Despite the many hours I’ve logged studying the boys, I’m still amazed at the differences in their behavior and attitudes.<span> </span>I’ve spent time reading about birth order and how it affects a child’s mental growth and the way they interact with each other.<span> </span>Through all this research and observation, I have to say that Gage confuses the life out of me.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">At three years of age, the family has unanimously voted him “Most Likely to Usurp the Head of Household”.<span> </span>On multiple occasions, he’s called me out, claiming that he, in fact, was the daddy, and he would “spank my hiney”.<span> </span>This is not an issue that concerns me too much right now, since he’s a skinny little preschooler that I can tote under one arm…but there’s a day coming.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The research I’ve done points out that Gage, as a middle child, should be the peacemaker of the family; working to bridge the gaps between all parties and bringing unity to the household.<span> </span>HAH!!<span> </span>Truth be told, my three year old is an opportunist, waiting to slip into any vacuum of power and seize control.<span> </span>And it doesn’t matter who he has to step on to do it.<span> </span>I mean that in the most literal sense.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For the longest time, he’s bullied his six year old brother, who is much too kind hearted to do anything about it.<span> </span>Recently, however, Tamara instituted a new rule that anytime Gage hits Griffin, the older victim gets a free shot on the offending party.<span> </span>It didn’t take very long to see this new rule blossom into full effect.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Last week, Tamara heard the outside door slam while a wailing three year old stalked to his room.<span> </span>Upon probing into the situation, Gage stopped crying long enough to exclaim, “HE HIT ME BACK!!”<span> </span>My wife looked the little one over and asked, “Did you hit Griffin?”<span> </span>To which Gage replied, “YES, BUT HE HIT ME BACK!”<span> </span>Walking outside she asked Griffin, “Did you hit your brother.”<span> </span>My oldest looked up from his playing and said, “Yes, but he hit me first.”<span> </span>“OK,” she replied, and walked back in.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Oh…things are a changin’!<span> </span>Since that little incident, Gage has somehow managed to refrain from punching his older brother.<span> </span>I guess it’s true what they say, some people learn by sight, some by hearing, some by doing, and then there are a select few that just need to have knowledge beaten into them.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9-CDoanxkjsadLUnHVEefe9g50Jafqxvzjd6fAwvwBkFA1F-6W1eDaFMSAihy2YPHuC3BxgjB4GnD5md4GPZpGX2PYApwkAAo7_rgp8a2WNKRanVI7aHHq2seUA_g4MRvEuUMx0JKqh8/s1600/DSC00015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9-CDoanxkjsadLUnHVEefe9g50Jafqxvzjd6fAwvwBkFA1F-6W1eDaFMSAihy2YPHuC3BxgjB4GnD5md4GPZpGX2PYApwkAAo7_rgp8a2WNKRanVI7aHHq2seUA_g4MRvEuUMx0JKqh8/s320/DSC00015.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arm crossing technique at age 2</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">I’m happy to say that we’ve seen other improvements in Gage, as well.<span> </span>Last Saturday, he got upset about something that the “supposed” leader of the house said.<span> </span>Quickly, he crossed his arms, declared in a loud voice that he was not happy with me, and stalked off to his room.<span> </span>Some might see this as impudence, but I see it as progress.<span> </span>He didn’t throw anything, he didn’t scream, he just used verbal communication to express his feelings on the subject.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This victory in anger management, however, was very short lived.<span> </span>On Sunday afternoon, the youngling and I once again found ourselves at odds.<span> </span>As I calmly squatted down to correct my son on how he should and should not speak to his father, the little imp walked right up to me and kicked me in the shin.<span> </span>It really didn’t hurt at all, but an action like that requires immediate correction.<span> </span>Once again, Gage was not happy with me.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Obviously, we’ve still got a long way to go with this one.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-7503374747235549742011-08-19T07:18:00.000-05:002011-08-19T07:18:58.724-05:00Love Bites<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Haven has two teeth.<span> </span>Well, at least one and a half.<span> </span>As with any teething baby, she’s been a bit cranky lately.<span> </span>She’s had the low-grade fever that every doctor will tell you has nothing to do with teething, accompanied by an unappeasable grumpiness that can completely frazzle a parents nerves.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXYHiyQlZIXeGVYiiejQwoBd8z_D-BnjwIFMNrxvxGiSASXJ_OEYWv60s8wzQvV7rGuU9V4vypGQuY8xXPxuUQa9Ltc8RvH8kHj_yTeYNBB3lVenSCHGPL4re5Zf8Oc2zxpjrw66t3sb1/s1600/IMG_1748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXYHiyQlZIXeGVYiiejQwoBd8z_D-BnjwIFMNrxvxGiSASXJ_OEYWv60s8wzQvV7rGuU9V4vypGQuY8xXPxuUQa9Ltc8RvH8kHj_yTeYNBB3lVenSCHGPL4re5Zf8Oc2zxpjrw66t3sb1/s320/IMG_1748.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cranky Baby Look</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">She has, however, managed to pick up a new trick.<span> </span>Despite the fact that she only has the two front lowers jutting up from her little gums, she now knows how to bite people.<span> </span>I’m not quite sure how she does it.<span> </span>I wouldn’t think that she could exert enough pressure with her bare upper ridge, but the facts don’t lie.<span> </span>My mother was the first victim.<span> </span>Carrying Haven through her house last week, she had her cradled belly-side down which gave our darling angel the perfect opportunity to go dental on Mammy’s arm.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I thought this was a bit humorous.<span> </span>I mean, how often have you wanted to bite your own mother but knew you couldn’t get away with it.<span> </span>Grandchildren are an entirely different matter.<span> </span>Mammy will just scream and then say something like, “Oh how cute!<span> </span>She has sharp little teeth!”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I, however, did not think it was quite so adorable when she latched onto my tender, bare heel whilst I was giving the boys a bath.<span> </span>She had been jealously watching her brothers splash about in the tub up until the point she disappeared from my sight.<span> </span>As you can imagine, her reentry into my purview came as a complete shock.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I screamed loudly, yelling, “No, Baby,” prompting my badger-child to release her toothy hold on me and sit up.<span> </span>“No bite daddy,” I pleaded, entirely sure that she would hit me again the moment I turned my back.<span> </span>The rest of bath time was spent with me dancing to and fro at the tub, casting nervous glances over my shoulder in fear of her next sortie against my exposed flesh.<span> </span>Thankfully it never came.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I realize that babies explore the world with their mouth.<span> </span>Everything goes in the mouth and gets chewed on.<span> </span>And I mean everything: dead bugs, dog beds, pencil shavings, papers, and apparently nice fleshy appendages.<span> </span>I just hope that we can curtail this exploratory biting before she hits her toddler years and it becomes a form of communication.<span> </span>As in, “Hey there, fellow preschooler, you’ve got my favorite toy!” Om-nom-nom-nom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-70972467216118340762011-08-17T20:53:00.000-05:002011-08-17T20:53:14.747-05:00Back On-Line<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I feel as if I owe an explanation to both of you people who still read this blog from time to time.<span> </span>Things have been…hectic around our house.<span> </span>In fact, you could say that we’ve been inundated by an overabundance of “First World” problems.<span> </span>We bought a new house and moved, but a large amount of our time and energy has been spent fixing up the old one and getting it ready to put on the market.<span> </span>We also ran into legal problems in the midst of trying to sell some land we own, costing us a good deal of money and adding a boatload of stress.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But as I mentioned these are First World problems which differ greatly from Third World problems.<span> </span>While the stress and pressure we feel at working day in and day out on our old house is real, it pales in comparison to issues like, “Oh, my baby doesn’t have any food or clean water today,” or “Hey, this ruthless dictator is lining me up on a wall in front of a firing squad!”<span> </span>You see, they just don’t compare.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Even when I woke up a few weeks ago with a 103° temperature and found out I had contracted pneumonia, it wasn’t as serious as it would have been if I were in another country with lesser medical facilities.<span> </span>That’s not to say it was a walk in the park.<span> </span>It was a completely unpleasant experience which more or less felt like having my head fed into a steel press while a bunch of roided-out gorillas worked my ribcage over with twelve-pound sledge hammers.<span> </span>At the lowest point, my doctor gave me a third shot of antibiotics and threatened to put me in the hospital if I didn’t improve in 24 hours.<span> </span>Thank the Lord, we didn’t have to go that far.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I wasn’t even aware you could get pneumonia in the middle of the summer!<span> </span>But apparently it is possible to weaponize bacteria hiding in the dirt by running a lawn mower over it and kicking it into the air.<span> </span>Who knew?<span> </span>I’ve only been mowing for the last 24 years without it ever happening.<span> </span>Regardless, it’s a miserable experience that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, with all my excuses out of the way, I just wanted to let you know that there will be more movement on this webpage.<span> </span>I’m not quite sure how much or how fast, but there will be movement.<span> </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal">I do appreciate the 3,000+ reads and the visitors I’ve had from countries all around the world.<span> </span>Thanks for taking time to share the adventure of our life!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">-Michael Thomas<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-57969983315446956962011-06-13T18:47:00.002-05:002011-06-13T18:47:43.540-05:00Run For Your Life!<div class="MsoNormal">I realize that I am quickly entering the period of life in which the things I want to do greatly outnumber the things that I will eventually do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In light of this fact, I’ve been attempting to take a little better care of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve cut down on the soda and have been trying to follow the C25K running program.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understand that good diet and exercise isn’t for everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some take the bent that we will all eventually expire anyway, why not enjoy life while you can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I fully agree that health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die, however, there are plenty of things I’d like to stick around and enjoy with my family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d also like to enjoy it while standing on my own two feet and without the aid of a respirator.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When my sweet niece, Alexandra, found out that I was trying to get ready for a 5K, she invited me to run one with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cautioned her that I was fairly certain we wouldn’t get first place, but if she was OK with that, I’d try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said that wasn’t a problem, and so I began to use the ensuing weeks to prepare for our run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, that’s not entirely true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A lot of life happened in those few months, and I found myself going for weeks at a time without making it to the gym.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t completely give up on my training, however, and was approaching a 35 minute 5K.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was actually feeling pretty good about myself until about a week before the race when my brother-in-law called.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Did I tell you what Alex did the other day,” he asked in the middle of the conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“She ran a 20 minute 5K!”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Are you serious,” I asked, fervently hoping I had misheard him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes,” he said, “twenty minutes.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This was not a good thing, in my estimation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If current figures held, that would place me about the halfway point when she should be crossing the finish line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want to hold her back like that, so I explained the reality of the situation to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, she still wanted me to come up and do the run.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So…a week later I found myself in northwest Arkansas, heading to the starting line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During that short walk, I noticed that a lot of the runners were wearing the same shirts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made a comment about it and found out that I was actually going to be in a ‘Girls On The Run’ event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would like to be able to say that I’m a mature man, completely comfortable with my abilities, leaving no room for prideful ego to get the better of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would like to say that, but I can’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Up to this point, I had satisfied myself with the goal of not coming in last place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that I knew it was an all girls event, and for 3<sup>rd</sup> through 5<sup>th</sup> graders no less, I was absolutely terrified of coming in last place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How would a 35 year old man recover from that kind of shame and humiliation?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could almost see a small pack of girl scouts dragging my lifeless body across the finish line.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Despite my fears, we got on the track, stretched, sang the National Anthem, and the gun fired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were off!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept a decent pace with Alex for about a half mile, which would have been great if this were not a 3.1 mile course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was at this point where I began a run/walk routine that would dictate our speed for the rest of the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alex was very gracious and refused to leave my side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was encouraging and coached me for the remainder of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was extremely helpful.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What was not helpful was every third lady shouting “Let’s Go Girls!” every time they passed us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know, it might have helped Alex, it just twisted the knife in my ego.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What really got to me, though was that one chick who kept saying, “Come on!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can do it,” as she sprinted by us on her bicycle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Of course I could do it…*huff huff*…if I had a bicycle too…*huff huff*,” I said between gasps of air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fully intended to closthline the woman and steal her ride if she came peddling by again…she never did.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On we went, and with little less than a quarter of a mile to go, I finally convinced Alex to leave me and sprint for the finish line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We did not come in last, in fact, we were probably in the top 25%, and completed the race in a little over 37 minutes.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I was glad that I did it, but even more glad that it was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like any other intense physical activity, the real pain did not come for a day or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when it did, it was in heaping bucket loads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swung my legs over the side of the bed that next morning and wept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s an event that I’ll remember for a long, long time {the run, not the weeping}. =P<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-43072385394960305332011-06-11T08:12:00.000-05:002011-06-11T08:12:04.440-05:00Why I Don't Sleep Late On Saturdays<div class="MsoNormal">Saturday used to be such a lazy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we were in college and for nearly five years after, we could sleep till 10 or 11 o’clock in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the advent of children, that has drastically changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter how late we go to bed at night, I’m assured to be woken up around 6 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does wear on you after a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at least kind of tired.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Why don’t I just tell the kids not to bother me on Saturday morning?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well we haven’t quite reached the point in their development where that is feasible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, toddler time runs differently than adult time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If Gage has been awake for more than 10 minutes, he feels as though if half the day is already gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Griffin is starting to get the hang of it, but occasionally still thinks everything that happened in the past actually took place yesterday.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, when I tell my boys to play quietly in their room until we get up, this is what happens:<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>6:03 a.m.<o:p></o:p></u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Two pairs of feet tip-toe up to my side of the bed<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Griffin:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Daddy, can I watch something on TV?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Me (groggily):<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You woke me up to ask about TV?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go to your room.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Gage:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I want some Eggo waffles.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Me (growing irritated):<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Go play in your room, I’ll feed you in a little bit.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>6:07 a.m.<o:p></o:p></u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">I am violently ripped from my slumber as one of the children dump a large container of Die Cast Matchbox cars on their bedroom floor…with their door opened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get out of bed, tromp through the hall and tell them, in no uncertain terms, that they are to keep their door closed and play quietly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, I go back to bed.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>6:23 a.m.<o:p></o:p></u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">A nagging, drumming sound coaxes me from my precious 15 minutes respite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something’s not right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That drumming sound is getting louder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I trudge out into the living room where the boys have dismantled their plastic alligator see-saw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At current, they are using the handles to mercilessly beat the lifeless alligator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How this hasn’t awakened sister, I do not understand, but the troublesome two are sent back to their bedroom amid protests of boredom and hunger.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>6:37 a.m.<o:p></o:p></u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">A wail like an air raid siren rattles me from the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are either being invaded or Gage is hurt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turns out to be the latter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Passing by the nursery, I sourly note that sister is now awake and powering toward full steam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boys have taken fixing breakfast into their own hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Griffin is toasting Eggo waffles and eating them dry. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amid watching his brother, while perched upon a laundry basket, Gage has fallen onto the tile floor.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">At this point, the chances of nabbing a little extra shut-eye have dwindled to nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe if we get some breakfast fixed, and if we don’t have anywhere else to go, and if there’s not too many chores to get done around the house, and if all the children take a nap about the same time, then we might be able to sneak in a little nap too.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">I realize that there’s a whole lot of ‘If’ coming off of that plan…but maybe we'll get lucky.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(*Shakes Magic 8-ball*) – “Outlook not so good”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-21346066131083967302011-06-08T17:47:00.000-05:002011-06-08T17:47:46.971-05:00Boys Will Be Boys<div class="MsoNormal">I’m sure that at some point in your life, you’ve heard the phrase “He’s all boy” or maybe “Boys will be boys”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But have you ever wondered exactly what that means?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely it doesn’t mean that the little tow-headed urchin running around the house is only half boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And furthermore, if boys aren’t boys, what else could they be?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I assure you that these phrases have meaning that goes far beyond their face value.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a deeper explanation, let’s consider the goings on around my house a week or so ago:<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJU72c8zcFMMod-RF6rlLhlaS47a16rV6SnVkGBtqYC5oK-BYmPchKouvPBX0_C4d3dRSF4OW8PN4H0_27hNxwQQT_PypuwhF0sRYJ1dJM1kW5pBLOW3WeTyfIcFndcsT2ejNAIAMafaA/s1600/Photo0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJU72c8zcFMMod-RF6rlLhlaS47a16rV6SnVkGBtqYC5oK-BYmPchKouvPBX0_C4d3dRSF4OW8PN4H0_27hNxwQQT_PypuwhF0sRYJ1dJM1kW5pBLOW3WeTyfIcFndcsT2ejNAIAMafaA/s320/Photo0010.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting Ready for a Cave Tour</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Saturday mornings are generally a quiet time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On this particular morning, I was on my way to the sink to brush my teeth when I noticed some odd patches of discoloration in the bathtub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I leaned down to get a closer look at said patches and was immediately hit by the strong smell of ammonia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Griffin,” I yelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Get in here!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My eldest came bounding into our bathroom, “What is it, Daddy?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked at my brilliant, straight A student and calmly asked, “Did you pee in my bathtub?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A wave of emotions played over his face as he struggled to figure out what the right answer would be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally he decided to just go with the truth and said, “Yes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Why did you do that,” I asked him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His reply…”Well, I just wanted to.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was good enough for me; everyone knows boys will be boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Clean it up and don’t do that again,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no need for any harsher correction, after all, I can still remember when I was a little boy and thought it would be a most excellent idea to pee in my parent’s metal trashcan instead of the toilet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah, good times…<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But the day didn’t end there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I went outside to mow the lawn, I came across a strange monument in the backyard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone had taken almost every decorative stone in our back flowerbed and pitched them into the grass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For those of you who don’t shoulder the responsibility of maintaining the yard, it’s fairly common knowledge that lawnmower blades do NOT like decorative stones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As my Troy Built clinked and sputtered in death throes, I yelled out to my children, “Boys, get over here!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They rather sheepishly made their way from the swing set to where I was standing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Why are these rocks in the yard,” I asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We didn’t mean to throw them out here,” the elder spokesman stated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Umm, yes you did,” I replied, “or they wouldn’t be out here instead of the flowerbed.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They shuffled from foot to foot as I passed judgment, “Pick ‘em up and put ‘em back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every last one of them.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why did they hurl them with wild abandon in the first place?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No doubt they were protecting themselves from tigers or sharks or maybe tiger sharks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those are the kind of games boys play…and both of them are all boy.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The very next day was Sunday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only mention that because it’s important to note that the boys are dressed in their Sunday best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow, they managed to elude the watchful eyes of every adult at my parent’s house and make it outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Upon hearing five or so minutes of unnatural silence, we began to fervently try to locate the children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I found them, they were standing ankle deep in a mud puddle, preparing to spread their chosen medium across the canvass of the driveway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Griffin had thought far enough ahead to roll up his pant legs…we weren’t so lucky with Gage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were tremendously proud of the grimy foot prints they had artfully put on display, and why shouldn’t they be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s the type of thing that boys do.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, you see, these phrases serve as gentle reminders that if little boys aren’t watched like hawks, they’re likely to do some off the wall things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, just the other night, I overheard them plotting something to do with the dog’s hiney.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know if they were going to sniff it, or poke at it, or what, but it’s just another example of boys being boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An interesting idea strikes them, and they immediately execute it with little regard to whether or not they should.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It definitely keeps things interesting.<o:p></o:p></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-16449881170287168272011-05-31T18:57:00.000-05:002011-05-31T18:57:49.286-05:00Fun Things To Do With A Baby<div class="MsoNormal">A number of my single friends have expressed confusion as to why a normal healthy couple would want to mess up the “status quo” of their lives by having a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seeing as how Haven was our third attempt at creating the perfect infant, this seems to make me an authority on all progeny related questions.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSQcZdUFJNp_VXoDsbszjYx3BnqdJ0C_6O-WDqNcUBGwbNcjWwH2fOLUntmE0l6uCelZBguFm11rPyMH_4xyn5u4B-iCWWMc2jHTu7npohh10bR72tYSG6_FqsgAe96teAwckyKJdDXqyt/s1600/Photo0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSQcZdUFJNp_VXoDsbszjYx3BnqdJ0C_6O-WDqNcUBGwbNcjWwH2fOLUntmE0l6uCelZBguFm11rPyMH_4xyn5u4B-iCWWMc2jHTu7npohh10bR72tYSG6_FqsgAe96teAwckyKJdDXqyt/s320/Photo0018.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">In truth, I find very little use for newborns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They poop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you’re lucky, they sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life is very boring until they start showing those first signs of personality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once that happens, you’re in for a whole boatload of fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here are just a few examples of what’s in store for new parents:<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><u>Lip synching</u><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Babies can hear sound just fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, they can hear before they’re even born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used to regularly encourage the children to kick their mother while they were still in utero.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s definitely not something you can get away with when they’re two or three years old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But just because the baby can hear sound doesn’t mean that they know where it’s coming from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoy putting Haven down on the floor, getting right over her, and lip synching to whatever is playing on the stereo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She often lays there mesmerized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someday this will probably backfire and I’ll have to explain to her why I don’t actually have the vocal range of Loreena McKennitt, but until then it’ll be quite entertaining.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><u>Magic Tricks</u><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">No matter your skill level with magical tricks, the baby makes a perfect audience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does your ‘slight-of-hand’ leave a little to be desired?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not an issue!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A baby’s eyes can’t really track that fast, so you can generally make the object disappear the first time, every time, even if it takes you a couple of tries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under the right conditions, even an ill-trained amateur could make an elephant sized object vanish without a hitch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only drawback is that the infant is a very poor choice when audience participation is needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s best to steer away from all tricks that start out with ‘pick a card.’<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><u>Fishing for Babies</u><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I saved this fun little game for last because there is an additional requirement to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The child has to be mobile enough to move across the floor by rolling, crawling, or some form of scooting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The idea is to put the baby down on a clean floor and then ‘cast’ a toy out in front of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About the time they get to it, you reel the toy in a little bit and make the baby change course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You would think the child would quickly give up and get mad, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can get at least a good twenty minutes of entertainment of leading the baby in a circle around the living room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s also a great way to wear the child out before bedtime.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">These are just a few of many ideas that make the baby a fun and entertaining addition to the family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I run across any more, I’ll make sure and post them.<o:p></o:p></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-44251978300946082792011-05-14T17:06:00.000-05:002011-05-14T17:06:22.401-05:00An Update On Crazy LettersYesterday was a boon for responses from my crazy letter writing campaign. I've learned that you get a much better response from corporations if you take the time to snail mail them, and will be using that method in the future.<br />
<br />
I'm still a little disappointed in the tone of the responses I'm getting. I was hoping to hit on someone that would respond with an equal sense of humor, but that hasn't happened so far. This leads me to believe that either the company won't allow a humorous response, or I'm no where near as funny as I think I am. Tamara has also suggested that maybe if I didn't sound like such a lunatic, my letters might be more easily deciphered as an attempt at joking...we'll see.<br />
<br />
My first response comes from Cambell's Soup. To see the letter I wrote to prompt the response click <a href="http://surroundedbylife.blogspot.com/2011/02/uh-oh-spaghettios.html">here</a>.<br />
<br />
********<br />
Dear Mr Thomas:<br />
<br />
Thank you for taking the time to let us know that you think our <b>Campbell's</b> SpaghettiOs A to Zs Shaped Pasta with Meatballs in Tomato Sauce is "M'm! M'm! Good!" I've forwarded your kind words to the rest of my team so that they too may know that their efforts are appreciated.<br />
<br />
At <b>Campbell</b>, our number one priority is to delight our consumers. We realize that it is consumers like you who have helped build our businesses and we sincerely appreciate your loyalty.<br />
<br />
As a small token of our thanks, I've enclosed a coupon. Please use it to enjoy your favorite product from the <b>Campbell</b> family of brands including <b>V8, Prego, Pace</b> and <b>Pepperidge Farm</b>.<br />
<br />
********<br />
They did enclose a $1.00 coupon for any product, and a Campbell's Soup Cook Booklet.<br />
<br />
The second letter I got was from ConAgra Foods, the people who own David's Sunflower Seeds. To see my list of helpful suggestions, click <a href="http://surroundedbylife.blogspot.com/2011/05/official-sunflower-seeds-of-mlb.html">here</a>. <br />
<br />
********<br />
Dear Mr. Thomas,<br />
<br />
Thank you for your correspondence in regard to our David Seeds. We appreciate consumers like you who think of ConAgra Foods as a company with whom you want to share your ideas.<br />
<br />
As you might know, ConAgra Foods employs hundreds if not thousands of employees whose role includes generating and developing new ideas for the company, whether it be for new products, new marketing campaigns, and the like. Consumer feedback plays a key role in generating new ideas. However, we are not able to enter into a formal, confidential relationship with consumers for ideas they submit, as we do not want to create any potential confusion as to the source of any similar ideas that we may separately and independently develop. Please understand that our inability to accept your ideas does not reflect in any way on the nature and quality of the ideas.<br />
<br />
Thank you again for sharing your feedback with ConAgra Foods. We greatly appreciate your interest in our products and your patronage!<br />
<br />
********<br />
<br />
They enclosed two 50 cent coupons for any of their products. I was really disappointed in this response. I thought my letter would at least net me a 5 gallon bucket of seeds. I am doing pretty well in the coupon category, but let me tell you, this is NOT the way to build up your coupon stock. It's much easier to clip them out of Sunday's paper than pen a witty letter.<br />
<br />
I'm still holding out for a response from Dr. Pepper. Maybe one day it will come.Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5899720353082339109.post-23146533692882895272011-05-06T18:53:00.001-05:002011-09-12T11:54:54.512-05:00Official Sunflower Seeds of MLB<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i>This is a copy of a letter sent to the David Sunflower Seed Company.</i><br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">David Sunflower Seed Company,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Just the other day I was in a gas station convenience store, looking for a snack. I passed the sunflower seeds in the Frito Lay cabinet and saw a proudly displayed label claiming that they were the official sunflower seed of the MLB. I couldn’t believe it. I quickly ran to the David sunflower seeds and looked for a similar label, but it was nowhere to be found.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It strikes a dissonant chord with my childhood memories, to know that those big buckets of David sunflower seeds are no longer in the dugouts. Nor will they be sold at the ballpark. I have tickets to an Orioles-Yankees game in a few weeks, and I’m going to have to figure out a way to sneak my own stash of David into the park.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Frito Lay has already fallen off my ‘good list’ over an issue with their peanut butter cheese crackers. Right now, I don’t have much faith in their ability to hold to a tried-and-true recipe. Being the official Sunflower Seed of the MLB is a serious commitment, and not one that I believe Frito Lay can fulfill for an extended amount of time.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">That’s why I have decided to offer my assistance to help the David Company retain its rightful place. Some people look at sunflower seeds and wonder, “Can there possibly be any new boundaries left to find in the world of sunflower seeds?” To this I would respond with a hearty, “YES!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">My first idea is more of a long term venture. Admittedly, it might not be feasible at this stage due to a lack of advancement in agricultural engineering, but let’s just look at that as an opportunity. What I’m talking about here is the Sunflower Tree. I know it almost sounds a little gimmicky at first, but if you were able to switch from harvesting seeds off of plants to harvesting off trees, people would be running over each other at the gas station to get your seeds. It’s also a ‘Green’ solution, in that trees process more carbon dioxide than seasonal plants. I believe this is where the future of sunflower seeds is headed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">My second idea is much plainer in nature. David already has a wide variety of flavors when it comes to sunflower seeds, but a bit of research shows that you do not have Bacon flavor seeds, yet. I don’t know how the industry has overlooked this particular flavor. The bacon movement has been growing steadily since 2002, and I expect it to surge as we move on into the 21<sup>st</sup> century. I must warn you though that Frito Lay has a jump in this arena since they have been experimenting with Bacon and Cheddar flavored crackers. I just hope this suggestion doesn’t come too late.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Thirdly, I believe I’ve come up with an original idea for an, as of yet, un-cracked market (please pardon the pun). There’s quite a large market for pre-shelled sunflower seeds, but no one has even thought to test the market on Seedless Sunflower Shells. One of the greatest advancements in Grape technology was the introduction of the seedless grape. I don’t see why the seedless sunflower kernel couldn’t receive the same adulation at market. It makes so much sense, when you stop to think about what people are really after when they pop open a bag of seeds. Isn’t it just the salty taste and the crunch? Plus, this gives you an opportunity to make a profit off those seemingly useless shells that are generated when making a “Seed only” product. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Finally, my last idea is simply a marketing ploy, but even those can be useful. Those connected in the gaming world are well aware of the impending release of Plants vs. Zombies 2. Pop Cap has recently issued a statement that the second installment of their wildly popular game will be released sometime in the next decade. The reason I bring this up is because the Sunflower is a crucial tool in the gamer’s arsenal, and what better way to capture the hearts and minds of the masses than for it to be a David Sunflower, or maybe even a David Sunflower Tree, on that computer screen!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">So, here’s hoping that these ideas can net your company the coveted position of official Sunflower Seed of the MLB again. If I can be of any further assistance to you, or you need to consult me on more details, please feel free to contact me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Sincerely,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Michael Thomas<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
<br />
<i>To see their reply, click <a href="http://surroundedbylife.blogspot.com/2011/05/update-on-crazy-letters.html">here</a>.</i></div>Mike Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09692561068295715807noreply@blogger.com3