Good Sabbath Morning!

Hi there, and welcome to a very cool day. Six years ago J and I married in the Jordan River Temple.

Then we played a little while on the lawn in front of the temple.

See.Thanks J, for six years of fun, and I love you very much.

Are You Really Posting At 5:45 am?

Yes.

Because the two older Mini Holdinators decided they were either getting up with daddy or waking up the youngest Holdinator in the process of trying to talk sense into them.

So, for some early morning merriment, I present you with Porky Pig singing "Blue Christmas."

MT's Log: 12-15 later that same day

I have heretofore failed to mention one of the biggest perks of my new job.

A gigantic roll of bubble wrap.

MT's Log: Bookdate 12-15

So on Saturday a gentleman came into the store and told me he needed two pieces of framed art. After showing him what we had available in each of the works he wanted, he made it clear that he expected an additional discount because he was buying two relatively expensive items.

"I want you to make me a deal," he said.

"I'll get you 50% off this one," I told him as I pointed to one of the works he wanted.

"That's already 50% off," he said.

"That's right, I cut you an amazing deal before you even walked in the door," I answered.

He was not impressed. But the store manager was.

I learned that line at Saturn: the no haggle/no hassle car dealership.

And it was the truth, dangit. 50% off a work of art is an amazing deal. It exceeds my employee discount of 30% (i.e. I couldn't get it for any less being an employee), and anyone would be more than happy to buy something at half off.

But I've discovered that some people don't care if they are indeed getting something at the best possible price, they just want to feel like they are getting a better deal than someone else.

I didn't realize that this attitude even applied to shopping at LDS bookstores. But apparently to the haggler, it doesn't matter where they shop, they just want to feel like they accomplished something by getting themselves a better deal than others could get.

That's some serious competitive spirit, dude.

But then another day a man tipped me five dollars for helping him get his piece of framed art, and concealing it in a box so his wife (who was in the car outside) wouldn't see what it was.

I could do it

Remember a while ago, when I blogged about developing a phobia?

Well, I've decided that instead of developing a phobia, I should just focus on becoming obsessive compulsive about something.

I think it would be pretty easy to obsess about brushing my teeth. It's so satisfying to brush them, maybe I could always carry around a little toothbrush and some toothpaste wherever I go, and any time I eat, even if it's just a little snack or something, I could then run to a bathroom and brush my teeth.

What On Earth is a Twenty-eight year old Man Doing Reading Anita Stansfield?

Getting to know the products we sell, that's what.

When I interviewed for the job at Seagull, the district manager asked me about my product knowledge (you know, of the products that Seagull carries), and I told him honestly that I knew quite a lot about books written by general authorities and religion professors from BYU, but that was about it. I had never read much (i.e. any) LDS fiction. 

Well, now I have read some LDS fiction.

Perhaps I'll get to that another time.

But yesterday I did change up our "Inspirational" section. I made a section specifically for books written by general authorities and took them out of the section where they would sit next to books about people's visits to the spirit world by pre and post-mortality.

It just felt right.

I Had a Dream I Was a Vigilante Sidekick

My name was not Tim, but I'm pretty sure I was a lesser known character.

One Handed

I am currently blogging using only my right hand.

SeeThis is a common thing in our home--one-handed stuff.

In fact J was commenting on a blog a few moments ago while I was holding Jack, but she was only using one hand to type. She stopped when I pointed the fact out to her.

Token

The other day I found the missing keys to my Chevy Lumina.

You may all stop praying for their safe return.

Thank you.

That was a terrible Game

Or you could say it was a great, and really exciting game. But that last push-off shot of Jordan's just wasn't very cool at all.

But all that aside, I was thinking yesterday how I missed the NBA on NBC theme music when watching a basketball game on TV. So I looked it up on youtube, and dude, I'm not the only one who feels that way. Most the comments for this video say the same thing.

So here it is:



Also, I've been missing in blogger action lately. My new job is very cool, but I don't ever use the internet there, and when I get home I want to see my family, so pardon my absence. I'll check back every once in a while.

Alive and Well

Yes it is. Most certainly it is.

Sexism, that is.

Did you know that there are public places that discriminate, BLATANTLY discriminate, against one of the sexes?

These places are probably more prevalent than you'd think.

This is the unthinkably sexist situation that I found myself in earlier today:

I went to change Jack's diaper in a public restroom, and of course I went in the Men's room, since I am a man after all. And in this restroom there was no changing table. Not in the main part of the restroom, not in one of the stalls (as is sometimes the case), not anywhere!

So I made the most of the situation, and changed him as best as I could without a changing table. When I came out with him I asked J, who had been in the Women's room not long before, whether there was a changing table in the Women's room or not. She told me there was.

Can you believe it?

The nerve! The outrage! The unspeakable DISCRIMINATION!

Eyes of Pink

I don't think you can see it that well, but I caught some pink eye from one of the kids. It's in the eye that is half shut. 

Anyway, this is a good shot of Jack's bulldog cheeks.

Oh yeah, and I chose the Seagull Book job. It pays slightly less (in the short term, but that will change when I become a store manager), but has much more affordable health insurance. It's a smaller company than the bank, but that means much less bureaucracy. The potential for growth in the company exists with both, but is more certain with Seagull. The schedules are comparable. The US Bank was an in-store branch, which means it is open extended hours and open most federal holidays, and there was a requirement of all bankers to hand out at least 100 fliers to in-store shoppers each week. 

And then there was this factor: When I got offered the job with the bank, I was extremely excited ... because someone offered me a job. When I got offered the job with Seagull I was really excited too ... because it was a job that I really wanted and know I would enjoy.

So, yeah. I start Monday. 

And I finished another book by A J Jacobs, this called The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World. He accomplished this feat by reading the entire Encyclopedia Britannica. I recommend it.

Whoops

Remember that last post? The one about my getting a job at US Bank? I was slated to start on Monday, and was pretty excited about it.

But then I got another job offer today. This one as a manager in training with Seagull Book.

Two job offers in one week.

I honestly didn't know what to do with myself. I was so used to not hearing anything from places I applied/interviewed, or getting this phone call, "We've decided to go another direction."

So this was unusual to say the least. The ball was in my court. The decision became mine.

I've decided, but I won't say just now which I chose, because I want to find out your opinion. Which job should I have accepted?

Miracles Do Happen

Not quite like the pioneers, but close.

It started on a day when I decided to attend a job fair that was held at Energy Solutions Arena. KJZZ had been advertising this job fair during the pre-season Jazz games (go Jazz! yeah!), and I thought it would behoove me to give it a go.

I'd been to one other job/career fair, and it was not the most positive experience (thanks to my own negative attitude that developed after being snickered at when I told these prospective employers what my degree was in: "Really? You studied that? Why? What did you expect to do with that?"). But I thought that I should try again, and this time go with some more optimism. 

So I drove up to the Sandy Trax Station (thought I'd avoid looking for parking around the arena) and parked my 1995 Chevy Lumina (white, as if they made them in any other color that year), locked the doors and made my way toward the platform.

Then I remembered I didn't have a key to the door of the Lumina.

A couple weeks before through a set of strange circumstances, the one copy of the door key to my car was mysteriously misplaced (it still hasn't been found). I was realizing this predicament as I approached the ticket machine. Did you know (yes, you probably did) that the Trax ticket dispensers only take cash. I didn't have any cash.

And essentially, I didn't have a car. I walked back to the car and checked each of the doors multiple times. They were all very securely locked. 

So I made a bold decision. I would ride Trax without a ticket, but once I got to downtown I would find an ATM (none of those available at the Trax platform either) and buy an all day ticket to cover my heretofore unpaid ride.

While on the train I remembered that my parents were driving up to Salt Lake to take my sister to the dentist, so I called them and asked if they would be willing to give me a ride home after the job fair. They agreed.

But then I changed my plans, because the job fair had less than twenty companies represented, and most of those were telemarketing places. Though I did have one good conversation with a representative of US Bank.

So I was done long before my parents were. So I hopped back on Trax with a plan in my brain. I would walk to the South Town GM dealership and order a new door key for the Lumina. 

But first I had to get off the University Trax Line and back onto the regular southbound line (a mistake I seem to make every time I ride the dang thing).

The dealership did cut me a new key, but it took J faxing them a copy of the car title to prove that we actually own the thing and aren't just trying to steal it. 

The point is, US Bank hired me. I start there on Monday. The ordeal (a lot of fun, actually) was worth it.

Jack's first Laugh

Oh, by the way, that's mini #3's actual name for those who didn't know.

Presenting his first ever laugh at ten weeks and caught on film:

Do You Need Apples?

We've got some fruit trees in our backyard. There's an apricot tree that drops all its fruit just before it goes ripe, a peach tree that produces two good peaches a year and 500 rotten ones, a pear tree (or maybe two I forget), and two apple trees. This year one of the apple trees did really well (no thanks to me, I only watered the lawn half the summer as J will tell you).

But anyway, we've got an abundance of apples. So the other night I thought I would use some of these apples to add a little crunch to one of my favorite things.I give you the apple quesadilla.This guy approved.
J had me make her a quesadilla with peanut butter and bananas. But without the cheese maybe it's not so much a quesadilla as a pbbdilla.
How did I not know about this? For most of my life I had no idea that such a beautiful and wonderful thing existed. I somehow survived two years as a missionary eating melted cheese on a tortilla done in the microwave... without anything else. All I had to do to make it a million times better was mix some salsa and sour cream together.
This guy opted for something entirely different. Pasta Alfredo with broccoli. He mostly likes that broccoli.
The point is, we have lots and lots of apples if you're hungering for some.

An Old One

This happened a couple years ago when Mini #1 was two years old. 

More Like...

Here are pictures of Mini's #1 and #2 when they were about the same age as Mini #3 is now.

Who is he going to look like? Mini #1

Mini #2

Mini #3

Another Friday

Lately I've been spending a lot of time online. But not reading blogs or anything important like that. No no, I've been submitting job applications and resumes.

I haven't been finding a whole lot of success (as evidenced by my still unemployed status), and I'm thinking it might be due to my not-so-impressive resume.

I need to spice it up.

So here's my idea (and thanks to Avram for the inspiration).

I have this book that is chalk full of ancient texts that make the Old Testament look both tame (see Judges) and nail-bitingly thrilling (much of Numbers).  These texts are mostly related to the monarchies of the Ancient Near East, and these old school kings knew how to embellish their qualifications.

For example, one text begins, "the treaty of Esarhaddon, king of the world, king of Assyria, son of Sennacherib, likewise king of the world ... etc."

Or there's the prologue to the Code of good ol' Hammurabi in which the king says that he was chosen to rule at the creation of the world:

"me, Hammurabi, the devout, god-fearing prince, 

to cause justice to prevail in the land,

to destroy the wicked and the evil,

that the strong might not oppress the weak,

to rise like the sun ...

and to light up the land.

Hammurabi, the shepherd, called by Enlil, am I;

the one who makes affluence and plenty abound, etc"

I just have my name listed on my resume. I need to add a title or list of my accomplishments like these guys.

Like

Brian, son of Richard, defender of the mini Holdinators, sent to eliminate all unhappiness and sorrow through my (whatever the job responsibilities of the particular business), wielder of the sword of foam (courtesy of Nerf) to lead out in the fight against shag carpet cruelty and eating of stale bread, etc...

Mightn't it work? Would you hire me?

What if I looked like this?

Mr. Hammurabi himself.

Luke warm

This is my Jerry Sloan face. It needs some work, but I think it's pretty good.

I shaved three days in a row this last week. It had something to do with job interviews. I may still get offered one of those jobs, but the other one won't work out because I failed a sales proficiency test that asked questions such as, "Do you like to force people into decisions they may not want to make?"

At least 20 questions were very similar to that, and I answered no when if I wanted the job I should have said yes.

Just before getting the phone call informing me that I didn't get said job, we went to this place with big inflatable toys that even I was allowed to play on. It was awesome, and totally exhausting. 
This is me and Mini #1 after playing at this place. 

Then this morning it was 59 degrees in our house because someone, probably a very small someone, shut off the furnace. There's a switch on the furnace unit in our bedroom closet/utility closet, and Mini #2 really likes to play with that switch.

Incidentally, he also likes to play with the thermostat on the water heater which is also in the same closet (we try to keep him out of there, but sometimes he sneaks in quickly and does his business before we realize what happened). Thanks to his interest in the water heater this morning, after trying to warm up a little in our chilly house, I took a very chilly shower because the water heater was turned all the way down past the "vacation" setting.

Dude Just wants One

Mini #1 likes to pick seeded dandy lions and make wishes as he blows the seeds off:

"I wish for a powerful mask."

And tonight after praying that my phone would work (it's not been having problems, but I guess it's a good precautionary measure), he prayed, "And bless that we can go to the store and get stuff... for me. Bless that I can get a powerful mask."

The problem is, though, that we're not sure what he means by "powerful mask." What do you think this powerful mask is?

Well, You Know

Which is better? 

Mushroom & swiss or spicy black bean?

This is a veggie burger we're talking about by the way.

Spicy black bean wins by a long shot.

In Case You Were Wondering

You can get $2000 off the purchase of a new Saturn Astra and get the Saturn Sky and the Saturn Outlook (all '08 models) at invoice price.

How do I know this, you ask.

I still get texts from the management team at Saturn. It's only been seven weeks or so. I haven't been gone that long.

J is Pretty and Awesome

Things that J is better than me at:

• hearing
• helping the kids brush their teeth
• bringing home the vegetarian bacon (if there was such a thing)
• discipline
• consistency
• folding clothes
• completely cleaning the kitchen
• remembering lines from books and movies
• routines
• listening
• empathizing
• faith
• clean hands and pure heart
• making pizza crust
• majoring in something useful
• stick-to-it-iveness
• reading people
• caring
• keeping her blood pressure low
• just about everything else
• actually not "just about everything"

Setting For Lack of

First, I thought I'd check out the BCS standings out new today, so I googled "bcs standings" and the first hit was this article. What the...? The LA Times? 

Dude, that beating BYU gave UCLA must really have affected the psyches of the sports writers in Southern California if they're writing things like this.

Anyway.

profundity, in spite of its absurd sound and silly look, is in fact a word that denotes something full of deep meaning. Even if Microsoft Word or an English grad student doesn't recognize it (I have no idea if Word does or not).

But blogger (and wordpress for that matter) do not recognize this word:

dialogue

And why the heck not?

Hang on. Blogger's not putting little red dots under it. Time to investigate. 

brb

They both recognize it now. I have nothing to complain about.

They came around.

Good job blogging forces. Wait to recognize a key term in your existence.

And now for a cute picture:

This more than makes up for this post, doesn't it?

Sniff

A little while ago Mini #2 was eating his breakfast in his high chair.

Golden Grahams (tm or whatever).

He was toward the end of enjoying this bowl full of enriched sugary goodness, and I noticed something.

Golden Grahams milk has a very particular smell. It smells different than any other kind of milk.

I think it's probably the same for any cereal. They each have their own milk smell.

And flavor.

Which made me think, what's my favorite flavor of cereal milk? Certainly Lucky Charms makes really delicious milk, as does Cookie Crisp.

I can't decide.

What's your favorite flavor of cereal milk? I think I know Gatsby's (Reeses Cereal), but I don't know about the rest of you.

Huh!

I probably wanted to do it mostly because I thought it would be a lot of fun. But I think there was a little selflessness involved too.

About a year ago we bought bunk beds for Mini's 1 and 2. But we didn't have the beds on top of each other because the one used as a top bunk made a great toddler bed for Mini 2, what with the side rails and all. But the other day I decided it would be fun, and both boys were probably big enough respectively to use it (Mini 1 to use the top bunk and Mini 2 to use the bottom one without falling out), so with the help of J's sister, we got the beds together.

But there is one challenge involved now.

You see, both boys go to sleep at night in our bed. Then we carry them into their room and put them in their own beds and (ideally) that's where they stay for the rest of the night.

So this requires me to heft Mini 1 up and over the rails of the top bunk, a height of more than six feet I'm sure. Now, I've been known for my extremely buff thumbs (just ask J), but this is requiring me to work on my, um, lats or something.

But it's tough, you see.

I'm a manly man.

Even if I did shave that goatee thing off.

HUH!!

Literally

I just finished a book. This is a big deal for me. I don't read very well or very quickly, but once in a while I'll find a book that I really like, and this one is definitely in my top three.

The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible by A. J. Jacobs.

First of all, I love Jacobs' writing style. And the subject of the book is fascinating to me, primarily because of my degree from BYU. I spent years studying these bizarre Biblical laws and the culture of the Bible, and to read about this not-so-religious guy attempt to live by every law in the Bible... well, it was entertaining to say the least.

I really just wanted to blog about this so I could quote my favorite part of the book:

When he obeyed the commandment to stone certain sinners.

My plan had been to walk nonchalantly past the Sabbath violator and chuck the pebbles at the small of his back. But after a couple of failed passes, I realized it was a bad idea. A chucked pebble, no matter how small, does not go unnoticed.
My revised plan: I would pretend to be clumsy and drop the pebble on his shoe. So I did.
And in this way I stoned. But it was probably the most polite stoning in history--I said, "I'm sorry," and then leaned down to pick up the pebble. And he leaned down at the same time, and we almost butted heads, and then he apologized, then I apologized again.
Highly unsatisfying.
Today I get another chance. I am resting in a small public park on the Upper West Side, the kind where you see retirees eating tuna sandwiches on benches.
"Hey, you're dressed queer."
I look over. The speaker is an elderly man, mid-seventies, I'd guess. He is tall and thin and is wearing one of those caps that cabbies wore in movies from the forties.
"You're dressed queer," he snarls. "Why you dressed so queer?"
I have on my usual tassels, and, for good measure, have worn some sandals and am carrying a knotty maple stick I'd bought on the internet for twenty-five dollars.
"I'm trying to live by the rules of the Bible. The Ten Commandments, stoning adulterers . . . "
"You're stoning adulterers?"
"Yeah, I'm stoning adulterers."
"I'm an adulterer."
"You're currently an adulterer?"
"Yeah. Tonight, tomorrow, yesterday, two weeks from now. You gonna stone me?"
"If I could, yes, that'd be great."
"I'll punch you in the face. I'll send you to the cemetery."
He is serious. This isn't a cutesy grumpy old man. This is an angry old man. This is a man with seven decades of hostility behind him.
I fish out my pebbles from my back pocket.
"I wouldn't stone you with big stones," I say. "Just these little guys."
I open my palm to show him the pebbles. He lunges at me, grabbing one out of my hand, then flinging it at my face. It whizzes by my cheek.
I am stunned for a second. I hadn't expected this grizzled old man to make the first move. But now there is nothing stopping me from retaliating. An eye for an eye.
I take one of the remaining pebbles and whip it at his chest. It bounces off.
"I'll punch you right in the kisser," he says.
We stare at each other. My pulse has doubled.
Yes, he is a septuagenarian. Yes, he had just threatened me using corning Honeymooners dialogue. But you could tell: This man has a strong dark side.
Our glaring contest lasts ten seconds, then he walks away, brushing by me as he leaves (pp 92-93).

I really recommend you read this book.

My Dad Did It

So why shouldn't I? Right? 

Wrong.

Now When I Said No...

So four weeks ago I quit my job at Saturn. 

It was official when Mini #3 was born. You see, I'm not very good at sales. As the general manager said, "You're too nice. People know they can tell you no."

I tend to give people an out; I'm not pushy; etc.

But man, now that I'm not there selling Saturns, let me tell you, they are wonderful cars and the service that you will get, especially at Saturn of Orem, is unmatched in the car industry. The people there are sincere and actually care about their guests. Even if you are not interested in the Saturn brand (which you should be, by the way), go there to see what they have and receive a little education on car buying.

Oh, for those who may be interested in the Toyota Highlander, a really nice crossover no doubt, don't make any decisions until you've checked out the Saturn Outlook. 

You know who you are.

For the past four weeks, then, I've been "in school." At least, that's what it sounds like to people, and I'm often asked how school is going.

But really, I'm just taking this one class, eight weeks in all, to get my nurse assistant certification. So saying that I'm in school right now is like saying UCLA played a football game today. It's not exactly like what you may be thinking.

Oh, and class was cancelled three out of four days this past week.

But I did apply for a job. I should have known better. It's become very clear that I am not supposed to work for the Church or any of the ancillary branches of the Church. Even if I get an interview and feel like I'm extremely qualified... nah. It doesn't happen.

It was for a job at the MTC. One that I've been watching to see if it would open for more than a year. It did; I applied, I interviewed, and they hired someone else.

But I think I'll like wearing scrubs to work better than a suit anyway.

Insight

Mini #1 loves to play online games on pbskids.org. All the games are associated with a TV show on PBS. For the most part, these TV shows are educational and really good. 

But then there's this one:

I don't think he's ever watched the show on television, so he has no idea what it's all about. But he clicked on the game this morning and played one where he was supposed to give each of the characters an object, and then they would say thank you.

After giving the last object to the last ... whatever ... and it said thank you, he looked at me and said, "They sound sick."

I always knew Mini #1 was intuitive.

Minis Skip to the Lu

We've considered getting some of these for Mini #3. They're supposed to protect you during diaper changes.
They're called "pee pee tee pees".

The other night Mini #2 woke up and had no diaper on. I clearly remembered girding his loins with one the evening before (in spite of what J may say). He was wearing one of those one piece pajama things that zip up the front, so losing a diaper would seem impossible. I then remembered that the night before, after getting Mini #2 ready for bed he had gone upstairs and enjoyed some gold fish crackers in the kitchen. When I went up to get him and bring him downstairs there was an unused, yet open, diaper of his on the kitchen floor. I assumed he had got it from the living room and been playing with it, but on further consideration I figured he must have unzipped his pajamas, taken the thing off, and zipped them back up while he was upstairs alone.

Or maybe I just forgot to gird him. That could be too.

The other morning Mini #1 came running downstairs very excited about showing me something. "Come see my poopoo, Daddy! It's so big!!" I ran with him upstairs while he told me about how "huuuuge" his poop was and observed the work in the toilet. Sure enough, he had pooped a very big poop.

Later I found out from J's sister, whose bedroom is next to the upstairs bathroom, that he had called for me for about five minutes thusly, "DADDY! COME LOOK AT MY POOPOO! DADDY! IT'S SO BIG! COME ON DADDY!!" before she got up and suggested that he come find me and tell me.

10 is Not Really That Big

Three times today.

Twice at the  pediatrician's office and once at Shopko.

(Oh, that reminds me, Mini #3 is growing a lot and has gained a whole pound and stretched an inch in his two weeks of living.)

J was wearing sandals, and I stepped on her toe once, then as I was handing Mini#3 to her I rammed my shoe into her other foot catching her big toenail and bending it back a little, then I ran over one of her feet with a shopping cart.

What's wrong with me?

And on another note, I have a quiz for you:

Why would Mini #2 use the first person possessive pronoun ("my") to say that he's done doing something (eg. "My all done" instead of "I'm all done")?

I will answer this, if no one figures it out before hand, in a few days.

Long Night

Last night when we went to bed, this is who was in our bed:This dude (yours truly, Holdinator himself)

And this really cute girl

But when we woke up this morning (you know, to get up and start the day, not just to get up for a minute or two to change diapers and/or feed a baby), a few others had joined us, including:

Mini #3, who is still learning the value of sleeping without direct contact with his mommy

Mini #2, who likes to turn so his body is stretched between us with his head by my head and his feet by J's headMini #1, who crawled into the bed sometime between 4 and 6 this morning; I'm really not sureThis guy. He purrs so loud he could wake the deadAnd then this guy, who is only comfortable when he is laying on top of someone's chest, and he's a really fat cat

If you haven't been keeping score, that's two people in bed to begin the night, and seven in bed in the morning.

A Square is Also a Parallelagram

So said Mini #1 when looking at shapes with J tonight.

And then the Amazing happened.

Have you ever tried to put the bottom sheet on a large bed (queen or bigger)? Does it happen that every time you do it, you get it wrong first? You start putting on one corner and when you get to the next one you figure out that you've got the top/bottom on the sides, and so you have to rotate the thing 45 degrees?

Now, you're disqualified from this contest if your sheets are patterned in a way that you can tell just by looking at them which way is up. You know, like if your sheets are Batman and you know that Alfred needs to be right-side-up at the top so you never have that problem. I'm not talking to you.

I'm talking to those who have plain sheets, or sheets with an indistinguishable pattern on them. That dang bottom sheet is never, and I mean never, on right the first time.

That is until tonight.

Yes, I went to make the bed and fully expected the bottom sheet to pull the same trick it does every time, and was shocked and completely in awe when it fit on my first try.

I can hear you gasping. I know; I know! It's impossible, you say. But no, I'm telling the truth.

Oh, and the reason for changing the sheets. Mini #3 peed on the bed.

And about Mini #1. He started preschool today. We wanted to send him to the same preschool TJ sent her daughter, but the half hour drive for two and a half hours of school wasn't justifiable. So, we went with a place very near our place; and he blew up. The sweet people at the school said he was probably just dealing with the anxiety of this new experience, and whereas most kids just cry, he expressed his distaste for the situation with words, and they were all amazed at the vastness of his vocabulary and sentence structure, even if he was telling them that they had broken his heart and he would like to scratch them until they bleed.

Anyway, after a discussion with J and a very heartfelt prayer, he got the broken pieces of his heart back together and braved the school again, and absolutely loved it.

Here's to hoping he loves it again on Thursday.

The Magic Number

You know how your parents would call you by your siblings' names. How sometimes they would go through all the names of their kids before they got to yours.

I wasn't that parent.

I never mixed up my Mini 1 with my Mini 2. I was pretty proud of that.

But then we had Mini 3 a week ago, and I've been all fouled up since.
So I've come up with a theory: The magic number for messing up your children's names is 3. With two it's pretty easy to differentiate, but with 3... it's hopeless. I will now forever be calling Mini 3 Mini 2 and Mini 2 Mini 1 and Mini 1 Mini 3 and ...
Now, I'm not completely sure about my theory, because I think it may be gender specific. If you have three children, but they're not all the same gender you may not mess up their names. But if you have three of all the same gender, that's when it starts for sure.

I Wonder if Bill Nye Knows

What happens if you put a refrigerator magnet in the microwave for two seconds?

It gets really hot.

What happens if you put a refrigerator magnet in the microwave for thirty seconds?

I have no idea, but if Mini#2 would have had his way earlier, instead of me stopping the microwave after two seconds, we would have found out.

If you're really curious about what would happen for thirty seconds, then why don't you try it in your microwave and let me know?

Mini Holdinator #3

2:35 am (today, August 16), 6 pounds 14 ounces, 19 inches.

Cool, huh?

Essay in Photos

Mini #1 is a budding photographer. We'll begin with a few from his latest conceptual project, entitled "Feed Frenzy" (and I'm not joking. I just asked him what he wants to call his photo essay project and that's what he said. He's a brilliant artist already!).

"Thirsty Conversations"

"Diffused Identities"

"Dog"

This ends Mini #1's portion of the essay. Now for two from a collection I call, "Wha..?"

"Untitled" you'd think an audiology college wouldn't make the mistake of misspelling "ear"

"3Less Auto Sales?"

Now for a collection that J and I both contribute to called "From the Land of Liberty"

"Anticipation" how silly of us to believe the hours of operation listed online. We've seen this before with these places. "Oh, we don't open until 11:00." "But the website said 10:00." "Yeah, actually it's 11:00. But you guys can feel free to walk around the park for 15 minutes."

"#2's Popcicle"

"#1's Popcicle" wait a second, why isn't he wearing a shirt?

"Retribution" it's a big word for a four year-old to learn, but an important one nonetheless. When you get your Mom wet, be prepared for Daddy to meet out payback

"Half-nude Basking"

"Feet of Summer"

Another One of These

J's sister took these.And we're having another one any day now. I don't know how we're going to be able to keep from squeezing the guts out of them.