Fez

While I was in Iraq, I got the hare-brained scheme to design a distinctive Fez for the Plans Directorate (CJ5) I worked for while assigned to Multi-National Force - Iraq (MNF-I). My co-workers thought I was odd for suggesting this but I kept insisting that the Fez was a distinguished Middle-Eastern symbol of excellence. (I subsequently found out that the Fez actually is Greek in origin but lots of people in the Middle East wore them courtesy of the Ottoman Empire.)

Nevertheless, the idea of sporting distinctive head wear slowly caught on in our office. My boss, a Marine Corps lieutenant colonel, found an outfit based out of Orange County that makes custom fezzes, Fez-O-Rama. We then designed a fez based on our directorate's fascination with the movie, Ben Hur, and the famous line spoken by Quintus Arrius on the slave ship, "Now listen to me, all of you. You are all condemned men. We keep you alive to serve this ship. So row well, and live." The phrase, "Row well and live," became our motto due to the insane working hours (and conditions) in the headquarters for MNF-I.

After some design fluctuations, we decided on a Viking Ship concept for the front of the fez and the motto on the back. We had a spirited (and entertaining) email exchange with the Fez Mongers of Fez-O-Rama.com. The process took longer than anyone thought and I ended up completing my tour before they were ready. Just after Christmas, a package arrived from my former boss with two fezzes enclosed. This custom order, the first of its kind, recently was featured on the Fez-O-Rama blog.

Jack likes it, as you can see.

Light Swaber

While down in Los Angeles visiting my parents for Christmas, Jack found a purple retractable light saber that used to belong to one of his cousins from Colorado when they were younger. He loves it, especially when viewing an episode of Star Wars: The Clone Wars on Cartoon Network. He even says, "Starwarsclonewars," or a good approximation of it. To him, it's not the sprawling, serialized swashbuckling adventure George Lucas envisioned; it's where General Grievous lives.


While watching, Jack holds his light saber retracted and expertly unleashes it every time a Jedi Knight (Master Kit Fisto is his current favorite) ignites his light saber. He jumps off the chair and assumes a fighting stance in front of the TV when there is a light saber duel. There are a couple of female Jedi Knights featured in a few episodes (Padawan Ashoka Tano and Master Luminara Unduli) whom he refers to as "the ladies."

Jack refers to his own weapon as a "light swaber". It's very cute.

Fiesta de Navidad

After the taco eating, we got down to some serious partying. As the meal ended my aunt made me stand up in front of the group while she read a small tribute. (I should say this is the same aunt who, when my cousins and I were little, would organize the annual Christmas "show" where we would dress up as elves and sing songs. Thankfully, video technology didn't exist and no one was into 16mm film so there's no real evidence, aside from some non-digitized photos.)

Yes, she made me wear a crown.

When I left for Iraq, my attractive wife, aunt and mother all had bracelets made with my name on it. My aunt didn't take it off for the entire time I was over there. After her small speech I ceremonially took it off her wrist. I was very, very touched. Then I took off my mother's bracelet. My attractive wife had already taken her own bracelet off previously.

Then we went inside for a chaotic family picture. When my authoritative grandfather ran the show prior to his passing away in 1987, we all posed for a very formal picture after dinner but before opening the presents. Back then, we fit into roughly three rows: fathers standing, mothers sitting, and grandchildren sitting on the floor. With the family now spanning four generations, we just try to get in the same picture frame. We decided to try standing in my aunt's staircase. I didn't think it would work but was I ever wrong.

Photo courtesy of the Taco Man!

Then we started our family's infamous gag gift exchange. Back in the day, we actually gave gifts to each other but, as the family kept growing, this became increasing difficult to do, not to mention costly. For a while, we had a cousin-only gift exchange where we would buy one gift for another cousin based on a random draw. At some point, we gave up on that and just went to a gag gift exchange which is much more entertaining.

The prize gift in our family is the Boxing Nun. She made her first appearance several years ago and was an instant hit with three generations of Catholic-educated people in the audience. There's something about the maniacal expression on her face combined with the articulated boxing gloves that move in and out menacingly when she's held. I wrote in my Iraq blog how the cousin in Mexico who took her home last year, sent it to my aunt who then sent it to me in Iraq. She stayed most of 2008 with me there. Everyone in my family looked forward to her return from abroad.

This year's gift exchange actually featured two nuns. One was from a previous year and had a little damage to one of the arms. This was referred to as, "the Domestic Nun." My nun was, "the Iraqi Nun." Unfortunately, due to a packing error, my nun remained at home so I had to make a valuable coupon that the winner would exchange for the actual nun at a later date. The coupon was wrapped in a box.

Like all gag gift exchanges, gifts can be "stolen" a number of times (we decided on five times for this year's exchange) and that a gift could be stolen twice during a round. There were some good ones this year, as you can see below. Both nuns were stolen five times each and two lucky cousins went home with them: my cousin, Edith went home with the Iraqi Nun, and my cousin Beto went home with the Domestic Nun.

Beto Takes Her Home!

Cleaning Slippers -- Convenient!

The Mexican Version of "The Clapper"

...And the Perennial Favorite, "Meat Stick!"

Amidst the gift exchange chaos, Jack found some time to be ultra-cute with his Bisabuela (Great Grandmother).

After the gift exchange, my aunt asked each of us to say something that we were thankful for in the past year. I said I was thankful for being home.

Christmas Taco Miracle

My aunt Marta, who traditionally hosts my extended family's Christmas party in San Diego, asked me what I wanted this year in honor of my return from Iraq. I told her, "tacos." When my cousins and I were little, we often went to taco stands in Tijuana, where my grandparents lived. We had a nickname for these stands, "Tacos Parados" (lit. Standing Tacos) because few of the stands back then had seats. They were the best damn tacos you've ever had (trust me). A few years ago, my aunt hired a taco guy to come to her house for a party in honor of my grandmother's ninetieth birthday. It was delicious.

I figured my request was in vain since we would be holding the party on Christmas Day. No so; my aunt guilted a trusted Taco Purveyor into coming over after telling him I had served a year in Iraq and that my only Christmas Wish was a good taco.

My parents, attractive wife, Jack and myself drove down to San Diego on Christmas Day. We arrived early since I was informed I would be a guest of honor, side by side with the matriarch of the family, my ninety-three year-old grandmother (or, as we've always referred to her, "abuelita"). When we arrived the Taco Man already was set up and cooking. I introduced myself and personally thanked him for sharing our Christmas. For all Mexican families, the big night is actually Christams Eve so he told me it wasn't all that much of a sacrifice. For years, especially when my grandfather was alive, Christmas Eve was our family's big party night too and included a huge dinner, visits from an especially Hispanic looking Santa, and opening presents.

Upon arriving, I greeted my abuelita and thanked for all the rosaries she said on my behalf when I was in Iraq. It was great to see her (at ninety-three, there was no guarantee she would have survivied for another year for me to see her). When I saw her, such fears evaporated; although sitting, for the most part in a wheel chair, she was a spry, alert and focused as ever.

The forecast called for sporatic rain so we set up folding tables and chairs under the awning and close to the side of the house. We ran out of suitable table cloths so we ended up using Sesame Street bedsheets. My cousins had a blast "laying" it out, as you can see.

After a suitable amount of greeting each other (I hadn't seen most of them all in over two years), my aunt announced it was time to eat. I was asked to go first and I served up three carne asadas with everything (cilantro, onions, guacamole, and salsa). For the non-Mexicans out there, these tacos are not the Gringo hard shell type. They are served on small corn tortillas, which more or less, hold together an over-stuffed taco well. It. Was. Delicious. The perfect chaser for a year of institutional food in Iraq. I ended up eating five in all. I paced myself.

Oh yeah, Jack enjoyed the tacos too. But not as much as me.

Christmas Train

We drove down to Los Angeles to visit my parents for Christmas this year. I won't bore you with the details of the drive down from Northern California. It was about what you would expect with a three year old boy trapped in a car seat for eight hours.

On Christmas Eve, we walked down the street to visit my parent's neighbors who had a remarkable electric Christmas train set up around their Christmas Tree. Jack rode in a red wagon that my father keeps at the house for him and Jack's twin cousin boys who visit from Denver.

The train had five cars (including the cabose) all of which featured moving parts. It was like the "It's a Small World" ride at Disneyland. Elves popped out of coal tender, danced around a Christmas Tree, and ice skated on a small frozen pond. The train controls had buttons for a whistle, bell, and Santa yelling, "Ho, ho, ho!"

Jack loved it. It was the perfect sort of thing to see and play with at someone else's house; Jack is a little bit too young to fully appreciate something like this without ultimately destroying it.

Rocket Ship

My good friend Herschel gave Jack an awesome gift: a hyper accurate toy of a Saturn V rocket. It breaks apart into the three stages of the original rocket and has a removable Lunar Excursion Module (LEM) and Command and Service Module (CSM). It comes with a launching pad and a small lunar landscape to place the LEM on. The first stage has a button that, when pushed, makes a realistic countdown followed by vibration and the sound of real Saturn V taking off. It's awesome. And you know from reading earlier posts that Jack loves rocket ships, both real and imagined.

The funny thing is that Jack is enamored with Stages Two and Three of the rocket and doesn't seem all that interested in the LEM or CSM. The top of Stage 3 has four panels that feather outward when a collar is twisted. Normally, this part of the rocket stores the LEM but I have placed it -- mostly for safe keeping -- on the lunar landscape on one of our surround speakers.

The other night, Jack was watching post-bath TV when an episode of Star Wars: The Clone Wars came on. Watching Jedi Master Kit Fisto fight General Grievous Jack started waving around his rocket as a "life saver" (i.e., light sabre). He danced around and contorted himself in imitation of the light sabre duel between Fisto and Grievous.

(By the way, the photos of Jack in his room show the wonderful aquatic themed artwork created by my attractive wife's mother, whom Jack calls, "Nana." When we were getting ready for Jack's arrival, Nana and her husband asked if they could prepare Jack's room. Lacking any sense of 1) creativity and 2) design sense, my attractive wife and I said, "Sure!" We left for work one morning and when we came back the entire room was two shades of complimentary blue, and had a number of fishes, ducks, star fish and other marine life painted. It's wonderful. Thanks again, Nana!)

Santa at Sizzler

Tonight we went to the local Sizzler's with our neighbors. Call it a pre-Christmas get together without all the cooking fuss. It was quite the bargain; dinner for my attractive wife, Jack, and myself for under $40.

We arrived just before five p.m., after the senior crush (which Sizzler's refers to as "Honored Guests" on their menu) and ahead of the regular Sunday night dinner crowd.

The food was good and the salad bar "endless." As we were finishing up, an African American man walked by with his family dressed in a red sweat pants, a red San Francisco 49ers sweatshirt, and a matching 49ers Santa hat. Jack said, "It's Santa!" as he walked past.

Jack wanted to meet him so we walked over to his table where he was eating with his wife and son, who was sporting an authentic elf hat. I said, "Excuse me, sir. My son wants to meet you because he thinks you're Santa."


He said, in a booming voice, "Well, well, well, does he?" and put him on his lap and asked what Jack wanted for Christmas. Jack became a little shy, but with some coaxing, said he wanted a light saber (although he pronounced it, "life saver") and offered, "General Grievous is a bad guy."

"Santa" asked if we wanted a picture and I snapped one after we walked back to our table. As we finished the photo, his son came over wearing his elf hat and we snapped another. It was a pleasant addition to our bargain dinner.

Pithy Responses

Jack has said some amusing things over the past few days. He's seen some commercials for kid's toys on the Cartoon Network and immediately responds with, "I want that!" Madison Avenue definitely speaks Three Year Old, I'm afraid. I'm impressed the way these commercials make some of these toys appear like the Funnest Thing Ever. One day, he saw back-to-back toy commercials and got overwhelmed; "I want that. I want that." Then he paused, looked at me and said, "I want everything."

Today, we told Jack that he was going to get a new baby brother or sister in June. My attractive wife asked him, "Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?" Jack replied, "It will be orange."

Jack Turns Three!

Jack turned three last weekend! I was especially happy to share it with him since I was in Iraq last year when he turned two and had to miss his first birthday due to an emergency at work. Granted, his first and second birthdays were pretty sedate affairs (only our neighbors participated). So my attractive wife and I decided to pull out the stops for birthday number three and initiate Jack (and ourselves) to the wonders of Chuck E. Cheese's.

We invited Jack's cousins and his day care playmate, Jay who is a couple of months younger than Jack. Plus some adult friends who we knew could handle it including neighbors Dewey and Day-Day, some friends from work and friends from my bachelor days.

Everything was highly scripted. We got to have "playtime" for forty-five minutes, each child getting a number of complimentary tokens for the numerous games. After playtime, were called back to the birthday table where we ate pizza. Then, Mr. Cheese made a special appearance for our party (and four other simultaneous celebrations) amongst much singing and dancing.

Jack got his very own chocolate cake with three candles. It was very festive. After singing "Happy Birthday" Jack bent over to blow out the candles and ended up slobbering all over the cake. (I don't think anyone but me saw that.)

Next, we cut up the cake and folks dug in. It was very entertaining watching Jack and Jay dissecting their respective pieces of cake. They both were the model of determination.


Next, Jack began opening presents. He made out like a bandit. The most entertaining gift bag, from Victoria's Secret, came from two friends from work.

We were having a ball when my attractive wife grabbed my attention and said, "We have six minutes to clear the tables." Huh? Apparently, our festive celebration had run its (paid) course and we were being shuffled off to a booth in the play area where we could continue our party. Where did the time go?

Jack and Jay took the opportunity to burn off their respective sugar highs in the playground area. In addition to slides, this venue featured "tubes" which spanned the whole play area. Jack disappeared into them and I watched him from the ground level. He went all the way around but came down crying after some kid apparently hit his face with their shoes. After a big hug and some kissing on the forehead, he was back at it. Still, that episodes seems to lends some credence to the fact that the police often are called to these establishments to break up fights between grown ups.

Jack and Jay next tried out some of the more terrestrial slides over and over again.

Flush with tokens, Jack got to try a number of the attractions like the "Jett Rider" which simulates riding a roller coaster. The ride features a video monitor for other kids to see who's riding.

Jack reacquainted himself with an ersatz Mr. Cheese on a car ride. Jack seemed to enjoy putting the tokens in the respective slots of the various rides than the rides themselves. Jack would periodically turn to me and say, "money?" Somehow, I don't think rewarding this type of activity bodes well for the future.

The party started at 1100 and we didn't' end up leaving until well after 1400. Jack had a blast.

Chasing Girls and How to Say Thank You

I took Jack to the park this morning. He quickly latched onto a cute older Asian girl who was running around the playground. Maybe it was her speed or the fact she was making funny noises but he wanted to chase her. He announced provocatively, "I'm gonna get you!" and proceeded to chase her around. She was about six or seven, long legged, and way out of his league. Still, it was fun to watch. She would let him get just in reach and then sprint off again. She would lead him to a park bench, sit and wait for him to get there before vaulting off again. Jack didn't seem to tire of the game which, I suppose, bodes well for his future social life in this department.

As I was walking around, I noticed something dark and plastic half buried in the wood shavings near one of the slides. I bent over to pick it up and saw that it was a car key fob, distinctly German in nature (either for a Volkswagen or Audi). It was just the fob and not attached to any other type of key chain. It looked old so I wondered if some parent had given it to their child as a toy.

I asked the first guy I saw if he had his car keys. He said yes and offered, "Wow, someone's gonna need that." I then re-acquired Jack, still in hot pursuit of the Asian girl. She was in the company of her younger sister, who was younger than Jack, and her father.

I walked up to him and asked if he had his car keys. He patted his sweat pants and said no, accompanied by a mild spasm of panic, as I offered him the fob. He took it, said a perfunctory thanks and walked away. It was like I had held the door open for him at the post office and not like I just saved his ass. Granted, he was trying to keep an eye on his younger kid but it doesn't take much to say a more genuine thank you. Some people.

Day-Day's Flashlights

Our neighbor, whom Jack calls, "Day-Day," loves to buy Jack flashlights. He finds them all over but mostly at a weekly flea market (Jack calls it the "free market"). They are very cool. In fact, I took two of them to Iraq with me. One was a small general purpose flashlight that used a series of small LEDs bulbs and the other was a small finger light with a Velcro strap that I attached to my body armor. Both came in very handy in numerous situations.

Lately, after his bath and final episode of The Pink Panther, Jack seems to have this burst of energy every night before actual bed time. The last few weeks, I've given up trying to wind him down and instead let him burn off this final energy of the day. Tonight, he had two of Day-Day's finger lights, one red and one blue, and was dancing around the room. My attractive wife turned off the light to heighten the effect. I thought this would make a good picture...

... but of course the flash on the camera kind of ruined the look I was trying to get. Next, I turned off the flash on the camera and got much better results!

Same maniacal smile but cooler light effects. :-)

The Pink One

For a while, Jack was mad about the show, Pinky Dinky Doo. Now, Jack is mad about The Pink Panther, the animated cartoon series which ran from 1969-1979. I vaguely remember watching these cartoons when I was a kid but it's been fun watching them with Jack. The Tivo is busy recording episodes on Cartoon Network's Boomerang channel. When allowed to watch television, Jack always asks for it.

At first, Jack couldn't say the word, panther, so he referred to the title character as, "the Pink One." There's also an unamed male character in many of the episodes who Jack refers to as "the White One," since he's colored white. I think Jack likes the show due to it's simplicity; there is little to no dialogue between characters in the episodes. While I suppose that's not the best for developmental purposes Jack nevertheless really enjoys it.

The White One and the Pink One
(Click to see the animation)

The half hour show sometimes features just Pink Panther episodes but sometimes they include episodes of The Inspector and The Ant and the Aardvark (part of the original series). The Inspector features a French police (okay, Sûreté ) detective who resembles Peter Sellars' Inspector Clouseau from the (original) Pink Panther movies and his inexplicably Spanish assistant. Jack doesn't hang so much with The Inspector. He's okay with The Ant and Aardvark though.

Tanny

I just finished my first week back at work which means Jack is back at Day Care for full days. I feel like a bad parent. Before Jack could talk, taking him to Day Care didn't seem all that bad; tending to him back then meant he was fed, properly clothed and kept close. Now that he's a small person, I feel bad that he spends all day away from my attractive wife and me. But it's the only way, I'm afraid, as we both need to keep our full time jobs.

We're lucky though because we have an excellent Day Care provider, Tanny, who runs her service out of her house. She chooses to care for only a few children even though her license allows for more. She and her husband never had children of their own so she became a provider fifteen years ago, first as a hobby and now as a passion. The many children she has helped raised over the years are her children as well. And her love for them is readily apparent. When Jack was less than a year old, I was amazed when I picked him up in the afternoons to find him quietly playing and happy. Tanny is a certified Baby Whisperer.

One of the reasons Jack likes going to Tanny's is his playmate, Jay. He's about four months younger than Jack but masses about the same weight (Jay's father is a big man). Jay and Jack love each other's company truly. When I drop him off in the mornings, Jay comes running into Tanny's living room and together they run to and from the next room. When I tell Jack we're going to Tanny's he says, "I'll see Jay!"

Now that Jack and Jay are nearly three, Tanny has introduced arts and crafts into their daily routine. Every other day or so, Jack comes home with some artwork he created using glue, scissors, cardboard paper and decorations. A picture of Jack's Thanksgiving Wreath was featured on a recent post.