Okay, so I wake up this morning to find egg on my face. Clueless me running on less than optimal sleep made a serious blogger faux pax yesterday. While trying to be efficient, I thoughtlessly linked a new follower to a post involving a particularly unsavory topic. So, in an effort to uncompound my error, I have edited yesterday's post to expunge my new followers information and am placing it here as a stand alone welcome.
So, without further adieu, I would like to extend a slightly embarrassed but very warm and much more appropriate welcome to follower number 61 (according to Blogger at least). Russell J. Collier, Jr. felt compelled to publicly shame himself by throwing his lot in with the rest of us here. Russell, thank you for your comment with your blog information. Russell writes the blog Ungrateful and Insolent and Exhausted. Go give him some love. He was very gracious in pointing out my error.
Russell, again, my humblest apologies.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Another Thing I Will Never Understand
[Insert Name Here] (who I have decided to rename as Wicket...he is the hairiest little tricycle motor I've ever seen) will be going back to his original foster family on Tuesday. As much as it shames me to admit this, neither The Queen nor I can wait for him to go back. While he can be a very sweet little boy, his behavioral issues and our being prevented from properly training him have us pulling our hair out. The only thing that has saved him from having his hide tanned is that it would end any chance we have of getting M&M.
Anybeating, this is about stuff I will never understand not how to retrain a four year old in two weeks or less (note to those interested...it can't be done without means to instill fear of imminent bodily harm).
I have commented here before about my complete lack of understanding when it comes to subjects like homosexuality (I don't condemn those that practice it...I just have no grasp on why it is attractive to some people), the blind optimism of people who think that a politician will keep a promise and why people abuse children.
We can now add child pornography to the list of things I will never comprehend.
Not that I ever considered it appropriate before. Quite the opposite. I would gladly take any opportunity to arrange a meeting between God and a child pornographer. They would have so much to discuss.
Here's the deal. When Wicket came to us 12 days ago, he had a raging rash on his butt. You've heard the phrase "that really chaps my a**." Well, I can tell you what that looks like. As a result of said condition, we have been forced to let Wicket run amok au natural in the castle to allow his butt to heal. After what seems like the four hundredth time of saying, "Cover your penis. No one wants to see it." as Wicket sits on the couch or a chair at the dinner table with his legs spread wide for all heaven and earth to see the glory of his little pee shooter, I can honestly say I will NEVER understand what would possess some demented pervert to WANT to look at that for giggles, grins and sexual gratification.
I'm still looking for suitable brain bleach. I'll take suggestions.
Anybeating, this is about stuff I will never understand not how to retrain a four year old in two weeks or less (note to those interested...it can't be done without means to instill fear of imminent bodily harm).
I have commented here before about my complete lack of understanding when it comes to subjects like homosexuality (I don't condemn those that practice it...I just have no grasp on why it is attractive to some people), the blind optimism of people who think that a politician will keep a promise and why people abuse children.
We can now add child pornography to the list of things I will never comprehend.
Not that I ever considered it appropriate before. Quite the opposite. I would gladly take any opportunity to arrange a meeting between God and a child pornographer. They would have so much to discuss.
Here's the deal. When Wicket came to us 12 days ago, he had a raging rash on his butt. You've heard the phrase "that really chaps my a**." Well, I can tell you what that looks like. As a result of said condition, we have been forced to let Wicket run amok au natural in the castle to allow his butt to heal. After what seems like the four hundredth time of saying, "Cover your penis. No one wants to see it." as Wicket sits on the couch or a chair at the dinner table with his legs spread wide for all heaven and earth to see the glory of his little pee shooter, I can honestly say I will NEVER understand what would possess some demented pervert to WANT to look at that for giggles, grins and sexual gratification.
I'm still looking for suitable brain bleach. I'll take suggestions.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Burning Candles and Other Stuff
...Not necessarily burning other stuff. I just mean that this post will cover other stuff besides burning candles. Sort of. You'll get the idea.
Three years ago yesterday, this little corner of the blogger world was turned loose on an unsuspecting and largely non-existent audience for the first time. Not unlike a blind man tossing a hand grenade, but it was a start. In the three years since, the blind man got a pair of eye glasses, dropped his cane a few times, had Lasix surgery and then stared at the sun too long. Now, he's busy looking for the pin to the live grenade in his hand and wondering if the counting has already gone past three.
I don't have anything special prepared to help celebrate my little blogiversary other than another whirlwind round up of stuff that's happened since last we spoke.
First up, I've been traveling more lately. Like a lot more. I get to spend next week in town all week which will be a refreshing change. The Queen is kinda partial to the idea of me being home for a change too. Seems she wants help with the kids or something. Having my smiling face nearby is a secondary bonus apparently.
On a recent business trip to lovely San Antonio, I had a couple of firsts. On the flight there from Dallas, I had my first experience with "new plane" smell. Southwest Airlines rolled out a brand, spanking new airplane for us. It was literally the first fare carrying flight for this bird which was one of their new WIFI equipped Boeing 737-800s. All that plastic, leather and adhesives off gassing together is pretty intoxicating...in a "when do we land so my headache will go away?" sort of way. Nonetheless, it was a nice plane and felt a who heck of a lot more comfortable than the little American Eagle regional jet that I was shoe horned into earlier in the week.
The next little story comes from the return leg of the San Antonio checking in for my return flight. I was talking with my business associate when a whiff of Hoppe's No. 9 reached out and rudely assaulted my hind brain. A quick search of the area spotted a Glock in a well cared for tan leather holster. The gun and holster were attached to a gentleman in line ahead of us to check in for our flights. Further examination revealed that the gun and holster were attached to a man in his mid to late 50s wearing brown cowboy boots, pressed tan colored denim pants, brown belt, earth toned button down shirt with a black ribbon string tie, a white cookie duster mustache and a huge straw cowboy hat. Did I forget to mention the Texas Ranger badge and handcuffs?
Why do I mention this? Well, for starters, it's rare enough to see a Texas Ranger out in the wild so to speak much less checking in for a flight at the airport since there are only 216 of them by statute. Second, Ranger rocked his Glock with a very tasteful miniature Ranger badge on the magazine floor plate. I'd be willing to give 50/50 odds that his duty issue hollow points have little Ranger badges on them too. You know...so that the bad guys will know that they've been put down hard by a real American bad ass.
I'd also give 100% odds that no one even thought about jacking with his flight. Because he didn't have to check that heater at the counter and wore it proudly through security.
Now, on to the kid update.
First, a little vignette from a phone conversation between The Queen and I five minutes before I had to start a conference call.
Me: Hello?
The Queen: Hi honey. How is your day going?
[lots of pleasantries, idle talk and lead up later]
The Queen: How do you feel about respiting a four year old boy for two weeks?
Me: It's probably not the best idea we've had lately.
The Queen: But he would give Mini Me someone to play with and make things easier on me.
Me: It's your call. You have to decide if you are up to handling another kiddo. I've got to go for my call now.
The Queen: Okay, see you later.
Five Hours Later...walking in the door at Castle Erickson.
The Queen: It's Daddy. Daddy meet [Insert Name Here].
Me: Hi [Insert Name Here].
[Insert Name Here] has a few issues not the least of which is an incomplete grasp on toilet training. He knows how. He just chooses not to. Perhaps more frustrating than that is trying to communicate with him. I am not sure how best to describe it. There really is no frame of reference. If I didn't know better, I'd say hallucinogenic drugs were involved.
So, to recap. Four kids. Two four year old boys. Two infant girls. No sanity.
Mini Me and The Banshee are still here. The Banshee is still a Banshee. Mini Me has had a few adjustment issues with the new boy in the house. Otherwise, situation normal. Their bio momma is continuing her efforts to get her kids back. She just started a new job. She is getting some out patient help for certain issues. All in all, she is working hard. We are guesstimating she will get her kids back sometime in November. Maybe.
That leaves M&M's situation. We are back in limbo waiting on word for the state where bio mom's mom lives to get the home study back to Texas CPS. We did get word that grandma either has or had brain cancer recently. This may or may not be an issue with respect to her home study depending what kind of drugs she is on and what her treatment status and prognosis are.
Last we heard, the next hearing is still set in mid October. Until we hear different, we continue to treat M&M like our own.
Hope all is well with you all. More to follow when I can.
Three years ago yesterday, this little corner of the blogger world was turned loose on an unsuspecting and largely non-existent audience for the first time. Not unlike a blind man tossing a hand grenade, but it was a start. In the three years since, the blind man got a pair of eye glasses, dropped his cane a few times, had Lasix surgery and then stared at the sun too long. Now, he's busy looking for the pin to the live grenade in his hand and wondering if the counting has already gone past three.
I don't have anything special prepared to help celebrate my little blogiversary other than another whirlwind round up of stuff that's happened since last we spoke.
First up, I've been traveling more lately. Like a lot more. I get to spend next week in town all week which will be a refreshing change. The Queen is kinda partial to the idea of me being home for a change too. Seems she wants help with the kids or something. Having my smiling face nearby is a secondary bonus apparently.
On a recent business trip to lovely San Antonio, I had a couple of firsts. On the flight there from Dallas, I had my first experience with "new plane" smell. Southwest Airlines rolled out a brand, spanking new airplane for us. It was literally the first fare carrying flight for this bird which was one of their new WIFI equipped Boeing 737-800s. All that plastic, leather and adhesives off gassing together is pretty intoxicating...in a "when do we land so my headache will go away?" sort of way. Nonetheless, it was a nice plane and felt a who heck of a lot more comfortable than the little American Eagle regional jet that I was shoe horned into earlier in the week.
The next little story comes from the return leg of the San Antonio checking in for my return flight. I was talking with my business associate when a whiff of Hoppe's No. 9 reached out and rudely assaulted my hind brain. A quick search of the area spotted a Glock in a well cared for tan leather holster. The gun and holster were attached to a gentleman in line ahead of us to check in for our flights. Further examination revealed that the gun and holster were attached to a man in his mid to late 50s wearing brown cowboy boots, pressed tan colored denim pants, brown belt, earth toned button down shirt with a black ribbon string tie, a white cookie duster mustache and a huge straw cowboy hat. Did I forget to mention the Texas Ranger badge and handcuffs?
Why do I mention this? Well, for starters, it's rare enough to see a Texas Ranger out in the wild so to speak much less checking in for a flight at the airport since there are only 216 of them by statute. Second, Ranger rocked his Glock with a very tasteful miniature Ranger badge on the magazine floor plate. I'd be willing to give 50/50 odds that his duty issue hollow points have little Ranger badges on them too. You know...so that the bad guys will know that they've been put down hard by a real American bad ass.
I'd also give 100% odds that no one even thought about jacking with his flight. Because he didn't have to check that heater at the counter and wore it proudly through security.
Now, on to the kid update.
First, a little vignette from a phone conversation between The Queen and I five minutes before I had to start a conference call.
Me: Hello?
The Queen: Hi honey. How is your day going?
[lots of pleasantries, idle talk and lead up later]
The Queen: How do you feel about respiting a four year old boy for two weeks?
Me: It's probably not the best idea we've had lately.
The Queen: But he would give Mini Me someone to play with and make things easier on me.
Me: It's your call. You have to decide if you are up to handling another kiddo. I've got to go for my call now.
The Queen: Okay, see you later.
Five Hours Later...walking in the door at Castle Erickson.
The Queen: It's Daddy. Daddy meet [Insert Name Here].
Me: Hi [Insert Name Here].
[Insert Name Here] has a few issues not the least of which is an incomplete grasp on toilet training. He knows how. He just chooses not to. Perhaps more frustrating than that is trying to communicate with him. I am not sure how best to describe it. There really is no frame of reference. If I didn't know better, I'd say hallucinogenic drugs were involved.
So, to recap. Four kids. Two four year old boys. Two infant girls. No sanity.
Mini Me and The Banshee are still here. The Banshee is still a Banshee. Mini Me has had a few adjustment issues with the new boy in the house. Otherwise, situation normal. Their bio momma is continuing her efforts to get her kids back. She just started a new job. She is getting some out patient help for certain issues. All in all, she is working hard. We are guesstimating she will get her kids back sometime in November. Maybe.
That leaves M&M's situation. We are back in limbo waiting on word for the state where bio mom's mom lives to get the home study back to Texas CPS. We did get word that grandma either has or had brain cancer recently. This may or may not be an issue with respect to her home study depending what kind of drugs she is on and what her treatment status and prognosis are.
Last we heard, the next hearing is still set in mid October. Until we hear different, we continue to treat M&M like our own.
Hope all is well with you all. More to follow when I can.
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