Olives

Jack has a fondness for olives. His favorite trick is putting an olive on each finger and then eating each one. Our neighbor, Dewey, provided the yummy olives for this go around.

Goatee and Tats

This evening when I got home from work, I found Jack running around the house without a shirt on. He quickly found some of his washable markers and started drawing on himself. When he started drawing around his mouth, I picked up another marker and drew a goatee on him as well as an anchor tattoo on left arm. It all came off the bath.

While you were out...

For my seven readers, yes, the posting has been woefully inadequate these past few weeks. In the middle of March I had to go away on a business trip for two weeks. Upon my return, I got caught up in -- well, catching up and the blog suffered. There's a lot of Jack-related news to get caught up on so here we go.

Pretty Lady

So we went to church today. I must admit we haven't been going regularly since my return from Iraq, mostly because Jack is in a continual state of hyperness and talkativeness and the prospect of him sitting still and quiet doesn't bode well. While I was away in Iraq, my attractive wife largely opted out of taking Jack to church (and I don't blame her; two parents vs. one three year old is much better odds than one parent vs. one two year old).

Given the rain today, we opted to try and get out of the house. We were a little apprehensive but he was pretty good. We sat up front, near the choir hoping it would entertain him. My attractive wife presciently decided to pack a coloring book, washable crayons, a couple of hot wheels, an empty tennis ball plastic container, and a ball. All of that kept him pretty busy in the pews. After communion he got a little uppity and we discreetly went to the back of the church near an alcove that has a three-quarter scale color statue of Saint Teresa.

When Jack was six months old, he was baptized in the same church and he had a keen interest in this statue which is very life like. I remember Jack reaching out wanting to touch the statue which my father, who was holding him, thought very cute. That day Jack wore the same baptismal gown I wore when I was a baby. Jack's yet-to-be-born baby sister also will wear it (although with pink ribbons).

Photo taken on June 26, 2006

Today, when we passed by the same statute Jack once again expressed interest exclaiming, "Look! A pretty lady."

Light Swaber (Redux)

Last month, my attractive wife and I bought iPhones. Jack loves them and seems a natural at playing with the touch screen. He zeroed in on my attractive wife's iPhone because she has a hot pink case for it. I also loaded some games on it I thought she would like (Spider Solitaire, Brick Breaker). Jack likes them better but is not that good at actually playing them.

This afternoon after arriving back home from Day Care I made the mistake of showing Jack my iPhone which has the Star Wars Light Saber application on it. It's just a glorified ad for a video game, "Star Wars: The Force Unleashed", but does feature five Star Wars characters and their light sabers. Once activated, you can move the iPhone around and it will make appropriate sound effects. To Jack, who is a fan of the animated series, Star Wars: Clone Wars, this is pure gold. He wanted to play with it all night. I let him play until it was time for dinner and then again after his bath. I fear I won't be able to take out my iPhone if he's in sight. He can ask, "Light Swaber game on your iPhone?" It's cute up until the tantrum starts when I say he can't have my iPhone. Oh boy.

The Force is strong with this one.

Lost and Found

First off, let me offer a lame excuse about the dearth of postings recently: I finally registered for Facebook and spent several days finding both my current set of friends and a fair amount of people I had lost track of long ago. It's been great getting back in touch but it does sap a lot of time as those of you with Facebook pages know all too well.

Lately, my attractive wife has been suffering from punishing insomnia. She's constantly tired due in large part to her being the second trimester of pregnancy. Paradoxically, she often wakes up in the middle or late part of the night and is unable to get back to sleep. Her doctor said she could take Tylenol PM to help but that didn't work well a few nights ago when a passing fire truck work her up around 10PM (she stayed up until 2AM before fitfully falling back asleep). More frustrating for me is that there is little I can do about it.

My wife elected to take a late shift at work today, partly to increase the chances of getting a better night's sleep tonight. She stayed late this morning with Jack at home. At one point, she put Jack in his glider chair in his room watching a favorite show and went to take a shower. As she was getting out of the shower, she heard Jack wailing and crying in the upstairs hall outside his room, "I want my Mama!" He had "lost" her and couldn't find her. My attractive wife consoled him and reminded she had been in the shower all the time. Poor guy.

Gana

This evening while carousing in our bedroom, ostensibly to say good night to my attractive wife, we overheard Jack saying, "Come on Gana."

"Who's Gana?" my attractive wife asks from the bed.

"Gana," Jack answers, "is a very beautiful lady and she's orange."

Driving the Car and Pushing Buttons

Jack has shown a keen interest in pushing buttons on stuff that he knows he shouldn't mess with. According to my parents, this is an hereditary trait as I did the same when I was a little boy (more on that later). It would appear he's figured out that the buttons on his toys don't compare with what the buttons do on "real" stuff like our alarm system, key switches and knobs in the car, laptop computers, the dishwasher, and the microwave.

His latest button craze is combined with "driving the car," which he likes to do after I pick him from day care or after we return to the house from an errand. This involves him climbing into the driver's seat of the car and pretending to drive. Normally, this this is harmless when the car is shut down although some buttons will remain switched on even if the car is turned off (e.g., the seat warmers which can be a little bit of a surprise if you're not expecting it).

Jack (in May, 2008) pushing buttons.

A couple of times, I've arrived home in my work car as my attractive wife and Jack are returning from day care. Jack loves to get into the passenger seat of my work car as I drive it into our two-car garage. In the couple of times he's done this, he's managed to reset my satellite radio, erase one or more presets on my car radio, and and creatively reposition my rear view and side mirrors.

Jack in February, 2009 still pushing buttons.

Jack will try to "drive the car" for as long as possible. He loves it. When finally persuaded to come into the house, he'll delight in pausing live or recorded TV on our Tivos in the living room and his bedroom. He can even turn on and off the TVs using the Tivo remotes (which refers to as 'motes').

In many ways, I can empathize with Jack; I loved pushing buttons on gadgets when I was little. I remember one night, my father took the family to a friend's house for dinner. The house was very fancy and ornate. As my parents talked in the living room, I wandered down a hallway and saw the Mother of All Control Panels, complete with glowing buttons. Ooooooh, I thought. I shouldn't mess with it but, well, I was nine or ten and couldn't resist it. I pressed one button, or maybe it was two and then heard the loudest sound in my life (I had activated the burglar alarm). I remember sympathetically backing into the opposite wall. My father was furious. Our host was magnanimous, I remembered. I felt like Mickey Mouse in Disney's version of "The Sorcerer's Apprentice".

Obamicon

No matter where you stand on the political spectrum, Tuesday's inauguration of Barack Obama was momentous and historic. On the right is Shepard Fairey's now very famous poster of then-candidate Obama.

By way of Habesha Child (one of the blogs I follow), I found a website that can create your very own Obamicon.

It's all about the future after all.

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.

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.

P-Wow

Tonight just before story time, Jack announced he had a friend name P-Wow who lives in outer space. According to Jack's description, P-Wow is red and green and is big. He lives waaaay up in the sky in a rocket ship. (Jack pointed up in the air for emphasis.) Jack said he stays with P-Wow on his trips to outer space because "P-Wow is mine friend." (Jack often uses the word "mine" instead of "my.")

P-Wow (Artist's Impression)

Tools

We are in the middle of a big house remodel. My attractive wife project managed most of it while I was away in Iraq and did a great job. The main effort was a complete re-do of our two upstairs bathrooms. They now feature beige colored 12 x 12 Travertine floor tiles, similarly colored 2 x 2 stone tiles in the showers and a brown and white Romanesque design tile mosaic running horizontally two thirds up the way of the shower wall. We had the granite sink counters installed earlier in the week and my contractor, Don, and I have been busy adding plumbing (faucets and toilets). We're in the process of finishing (and restoring functionality to) my attractive wife's bathroom. Until this project started I had never the term, "high performance toilet," before.

Jack has his own set of play tools which look and function quite realistically and he's been imitating all the activity around the house. He even wears eye protection. Jack knows our contractor, who he calls "Friend Don."

Gas!

It is a truism that all boys and men think passing gas is inherently funny. When Jack does it, he says, "Gas!" and then proceeds to laugh hysterically. Maybe it's because he's eating grown up food exclusively now, I don't know, but he's got a lot of gas lately. And yes, it's stinky. He doesn't appear to be bothered by it, though.

ETA: Tonight (14 Nov) Jack passed gas in the bath and discovered a whole new way to laugh about this process. He was so amused by the first instance that I caught him several times try to do it again but his little colon was empty.