Friday, November 27, 2009

I'm not gone on my roadtrip more than 9 hours and...

Paige is sending me text messages like this...

"Levi thinks he is beautiful too. The boys love to spin in them. Who knew!? Little boys are denied the joy of spinning around in a fancy dress. Poor boys."

Ohhhhh, the humanity! Seriously, someone please stop by our house and put a stop to this madness!!

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Youtube smörgåsbord

Various youtube videos that have appeared in my google reader (or elsewhere) in the past few days, that I dubbed worthy of sharing with you, the lucky reader...

"Plane" stupid is right. This "commercial" is just downright retarded. I'll be merrily killing a few polar bears next week as I fly back from Michigan. And that same week, hundreds of dignitaries and celebrities will be flying to the UN's Copenhagen Conference to discuss "climate change." They sure aren't walking there, right? So how many polar bears worth of CO2 will be generated, in order for a bunch of celebrities do whine about polar bears supposedly dying? I can't wait till this whole global warming hoax has been exposed for the fraud it is...



Next up, a commercial that actually is entertaining, cute, and funny...



Paige and I sat down for a late dinner the other night and flipped on the tube to see what was on. PBS was showing some nature show about a guy who was far to emotionally attached to some cheetah that he hand raised from a kitten.

You can watch the video if you want, but here is the basic transcript:

Crazy cheetah dude: Hmmmm, there is an unknown cheetah acting strangely near the enclosure. It's possible this is another cheetah raised by hand by some other crazy dude and released here so that we could give it a home. Let's go try to pet it!"

Jason and Paige: Orrrr, it has rabies!!!

Crazy cheetah dude: Heeeere sweetie! Who are you? Come here swee....

Cheetah, who is probably hand raised: Raaaaawr!!

Crazy dude, still not getting the picture: Hello sweetie! If it attacks again, just kick it!

From the peanut gallery: Brilliant! Your puny boot against a rapid apex predator!!!

Crazy dude: I was shocked by this females behavior!

Meanwhile, the cheetah attempts to eat his buddy... followed by a shot of his bloodied hand.

Peanut gallery: Well he obviously didn't listen to the guy say to use your feet!

Cheetah ends up biting and scratching both of them, and they literally have to fight it off. And the guy is still going on about how if this is wild cheetah, it still might be a good mate for his little buddy.

And sure enough, it had... rabies.

I'm sorry. When someone sees a wild animal, predator at the top of the food chain, giant teeth and claws, that can run like 80 miles and hour, acting very strangely, and their first thought is "Wow... it's probably tame. Let's go pet it!" instead of "Hmmm, bet it has rabies. Let's get a close look... through the scope on my rifle." it somewhat tarnishes his reputation as a "wildlife expert."



These are funny...




But this is side splitting. The name of the refined gentleman who sent this to me will remain nameless. He sent it to "select group of friends with the sophistication to
appreciate this kind of humor." Obviously he had me nailed as the proper audience. I literally had trouble breathing I was laughing so hard. You've got to click through to the youtube page, as embedding is disabled. But trust me. Sooooo worth it...

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Can you believe the guy who drew these...














(I'm not entirely sure what that one is supposed to mean.)












...is going to be having a kid?!?!?!?

He called and told me the news a while ago. Not more than a few days later, my mom pulled out this sheet of drawings and gave it to me. I have no idea where it came from, or why my mom had it. Probably something she confiscated from two giggling little boys in church. I haven't laughed that hard in quite a while, imagining the guy who drew "Bobo the clown and his demon dog" raising a child.

That poor, poor child...

In all seriousness, second only learning about my own children, I don't think I've been happier to learn about someone expecting a baby.

And I can't really give him too hard a time, because he knows far, far too many stories from my childhood that I hope my children never hear from "Uncle" Jonathan. Especially the boys. They don't need any inspiration from their dad and his buddy on ways to get into mischief.

Congratulations Jon and Kate!

Oh, and they started a blog too! And since he is a little worried about excess publicity, I figured he wouldn't mind if the hundreds of our readers (or, ummmm, you know... all three) stopped by.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

They get their dance moves from their Aunt Gina

We don't fire up the ol' Victrola often enough around here. But when we do...


Monday, November 16, 2009

Driscoll beats up the guys

Probably would have been good for me to hear this (and actually listen) when I was a teenager. Heck, I can still use the beating now. A reminder never hurts...

Too early for "the talk?"

Paige was talking to the kids tonight at bedtime. She relays what she describes as a "horrible experience:"

Paige: "Mom and Dad pray for you all the time, that you will grow up to be mommies and daddies who love Jesus." Etc...

Ella, at this point, burst into sobs and crawled under her covers...

Paige: "Honey, what one earth is wrong?"

Ella, sobbing: "I DON"T WANT TO BE A MOMMY!!!!"

Paige: "Why not?"

Ella, still sobbing: "I don't want to be cut open and milk them!!!"

Hmmmmm. Maybe showing them the videos of them being born (by c-section) was a mistake...

[Paige clarifies my transcription of her story at this point that it was me, not her, who thought the kids would find the videos of their c-section births fascinating.]


Paige then tried to back out of that one, telling Ella that she didn't have to be a mommy, or get cut open, or... milk anybody. She also explained that some babies drink from a bottle and never "get milked," just like her cousins Isaac and Max. She also explained that most mommies don't get cut open to have babies.

Being a smart little whippersnapper, and deducing that if mommy doesn't get cut open, that baby must get out somehow...

Ella, sobs subsiding: "Then how do the babies get out?"

Oh boy...

Paige: "Ummmmm, through a special opening called the birth canal."

Ella: "Does that hurt?"

Paige: "No, they can give you medicine so you don't feel anything. Mommy couldn't even feel her toes."

Giggles all around...

Ella: "And some babies you don't have to milk? Ever???? Then what do they eat?"

This kid is obviously not going to be joining the La Leche League of Militant Milking Mommies when she has babies...

Paige: "Nope. Not if you don't want to. You can feed them formula."

Paige quickly changed the topic before anyone could start to ask where, exactly, the birth canal is.

Friday, November 13, 2009

The Girl Scout parade

Otherwise known as the Veteran's Day Parade. Seriously. I saw approximately 13 guys who were identifiable as vets. And about 143,000 Girl Scouts. For some reason I remember more guns, uniforms, horses, and marching from the parades of my youth. And fewer Girl Scouts.

But seriously, Ella had a great time. She was a little nervous at first, this being her first parade and all. She wasn't quite sure what to expect. And unlike her father (sarcasm alert) she gets a little sheepish in unfamiliar and new social situations.



We had to walk about 1/2 mile to our viewing location. This took us approximately 3 hours, due to the difficulty of maintaining your balance on the sidewalk edge, and the need to stop and examine every possible treasure (rocks, dirt, bugs, etc.)



Like I said... treasure. Apple snacks in one hand, cockroach in the other. Yummy!



Not quite sure that is what I meant when I told them to "smile!"



The motorcycle cops had some pretty fancy tricks, which impressed the boys.



Noah loved the marching bands. He was a dancing and air drumming fool!



He also mastered the Miss America wave, keeping it up for most of the parade.



I'm not entirely sure what it is about motorcycle gangs that seems to be associated with "all American family event." The motorcycle gang, however, appears to be a required participant in all parades.



My ugly mug, and my much better looking offspring.



Ella marching by. She was all grins by the time they got to us. Her nervousness had definitely evaporated.



Paige and I were debating whose mother was more likely to join the Jazzy Poms old lady marching club. It's a very close call. I'm not sure we really came to a conclusion.



All in all, a very good start to Veteran's Day!

Congratulations Rondi!

Sunday, November 8, 2009

It's frick'n huuuuge!



So with the pending addition of another kid (No, we don't know when yet. Our application is in DC, on its way to Ethiopia, and then 4-6 months on the waiting list. How was that for a parenthetical?) we've been on the lookout for a larger vehicle. The minivan was already feeling, well... mini. Due to all the insane carseat rules that people seem to be implementing, it appears that our children will be stuck in those silly things until they are fourteen. Seriously, in Michigan you now have to be in a car seat until you are eight. Eight!!!! I just read in SuperFreakonomics that car seats provide no benefit as far as decreasing the risk of death or serious injury for kids over the age of 2. Paige still buys the car seat lobby's propaganda though, and remains unconvinced by her husband's book learnin'. Hmph! And three car seats do not fit in the back seat of a Honda minivan. At least not with any kind of comfort or ease of use. One more kid will mean that every single seat in the van would be occupied, leaving no room for grandparents, aunts, uncles, or friends from school.

So last week we found something that fit the criteria (primarily... "huge" and "not white") and I spent most of Saturday afternoon dealing with a used car salesman. I can think of more pleasant ways to pass a few hours (honestly, are car salesmen not a totally different breed?), but I did get to drive home with this...



Yeah, that's just a weeeeeeee bit bigger than the minivan. I think you could park the minivan inside it. The thing is massive.

Of course, with four acres of room inside it, where did all the kids want to sit on the way to church this morning? They could each have their own entire bench, and they fought over who got to crowd into the front seat. Sheesh...



This is totally unrelated, but apparently we have no problems letting our baby play in dirty gutter water...



"Look Dad! It's a ginourmous van!"



Paige is still pretty much a nervous wreck when driving it. She claims she needs a "mourning period." Mourning? For the loss of a minivan!?!?! I believe I told her when we got the thing that we were going to keep having kids until we couldn't fit in the minivan, and had to get a real one. She should have seen this coming...

So, anyone in the market for a gently used (ha!) Honda Odyssey? It could easily double as a survival kit, given that you could easily live for quite a few months just on the Cheerios stashed in every crevice...



The only downside? Not quite as maneuverable as the old van. I can totally see any number of these happening (but particularly the one starting at 45 seconds.)

The only question left? What to get for the license plate? (Vote in the poll in the sidebar!)

- T(he) A TEAM - The "he" would have to be added in small applied letters, since plain ol' A TEAM is already taken. And every fiber of my being wants to get a full vinyl wrap on the thing to duplicate the A-Team van graphics. Paige claims she would be horrified, but I know she would grow to love it. I mean, seriously? How completely awesome would an A-Team van be? I could even rig up a musical horn to play the theme song. I can't believe my wife isn't as giddy with this plan as I am...

- SHRT BVS - Unfortunately, SHRT BUS is already taken.

- NT MORMN (or NOT MRMN) - Since everyone will think we are...

- HUUUGE - Should be self explanatory.

- GO AL OUT - Paige's suggestion

- Others? Better leave a comment. You can see what plates are available here.

Daisies at the zoo



Ella is now a Girl Scout, and her troop (is that what they call it?) went to the zoo on Saturday.

The boys, however, wanted nothing to do with a bunch of girls (ewwwwww!) and so they dragged me off to go exploring with them.

We could have just was well gone to the park, as they were fairly uninterested in seeing too many of the animals, and far more interested in seeing what they could climb on, across, or through.



Consulting the map to plan their next "adventure." We had to do this often, always keeping track of where we were on the map as we traveled through the zoo.



There is a wolf back in that picture somewhere. Not that they were that interested, what with those logs to climb around on.



Hey, animals they liked! Frogs, lizards, and snakes. Go figure. Or maybe it was the fact that you had to climb the wall in order to see the top cages.



Wandering off in search of their next discovery...



Which was a scary cave.



There was one kid wandering around going "oooooooohhhhhhh" like a ghost and trying to scare all the other kids. One giant scary dad in the cave made short work of that kid (and even snapped a picture of it...)



Does this even need an explanation?



And finally, as we were walking out over the bridge, Ella discovered this.



Lost it eating cotton candy! How on earth do you lose your fourth tooth eating fluffy melt-in-your-mouth sugar?


Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be... roller coaster operators

Deep discussion around the dinner table the other night...

Noah: I'm just going to be Noah. Not a train park man or plumber, just Noah. Maybe a dad too.

Levi: I am going to be a subway driver.

Ella: Do they have subways in Arizona?

Paige: No, only in New York and Washington DC. And probably other places.

Ella: Are those close to Arizona?

Paige: No, on the other side of the US and very far from Arizona.

Levi, pondering a move to the other side of the US away from his mama...

Levi: Well, then I am not going to be a subway driver anymore. I'm going to be a roller coaster man. And I can build it in the backyard!


This after Paige told me the previous day that Levi would be perfectly happy never leaving the house, and living with us until he was 44.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Sunday, November 1, 2009

A sad weiner, two little squirts, and a princess

Friday night was pumpkin carving night.



They actually didn't do much carving. Instead we had these kits with a bunch of what looked like colored golf tees. You push them into the pumpkin, put a battery powered light inside, and the "golf tees" light up in whatever pattern you chose.

Way less stressful than watching kids poke a giant melon with kitchen knives or miniature saw blades, and then attempt to light it on fire.

After being pestered all day Saturday about "how many more hours until Halloween?" we got them all dressed and headed out around the neighborhood.

Luke was terrified of his costume every time Paige tried it on him. On the big night however, it didn't even phase him. Somehow he knew candy was close at hand...



Literally the only picture we got of all four of them sitting in one spot. And Ella hadn't even had any sugar yet...



That would be ketchup, a hot dog, a princess, and mustard, in case you can't tell.

And off we went in the yearly attempt to teach our kids to say "thank you", to not complain about what people give them, and to not tromp through other people's yards...

For whatever reason, the hot dog got pretty much all the camera action going from house to house.





He was, however, very upset when ketchup, mustard, and princess got to go around a second block, and he had to hang out at the house with dad and hand out candy.



And finally, pictures of the loot...





(She could survive on only peanut butter cups if we let her)


Aaaaaand, probably more of the loot than you really wanted to see...


Happy Halloween!