Daylight Stupid Time (BURN!)
2007-11-05 09:44:34
In the classic irresponsible fashion of youth, Hazel forgot that we turn the clocks back over the weekend because Daylight
Savings Time ended or began – I can never remember which is which. So on Sunday, she was up and ready for action at six AM sharp. Megan and I weren’t as peppy, but so it goes with a human alarm clock.
The simple, arbitrary change to our timepieces pretty much bamboozled Hazel for the rest of the day. All the consistency we’ve meticulously built for her over the past six months was wrenched apart and strewn about the place like a scarecrow in a hurricane. Yes, Daylight Savings Time (DST [Not to be confused with WDST]) is truly an evil, winged monkey, with Hazel’s daily routine in its poop-flinging mitts. “My naptime is over there! And some of my afternoon walk is over there! And they took my bath time and threw it over there!”
I offer my deepest apologies for that quagmire of ill-worded imagery.
Back on task, I’d like to take a moment to cast a
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Happy Hazel-ween!
2007-11-01 10:10:24
Back in Vermont, we would typically get about 100 or so kids during prime trick-or-treating time. Our first Halloween there, we ran out of candy very early and I had to make an emergency supply run, getting caught in the town Halloween parade on my way back home. The next year, we stocked up on extra sweets and made it through…barely.
Now that we live on a cozy Maine cul-de-sac, we figured on a slew of candy grabbers for Hazel’s first Halloween. We decorated, dusted off Megan’s gorilla suit (sized for a fifth grader but fitting so nicely), and readied ourselves for a costumed onslaught. We ended up getting one group of four teenagers in quasi-costumes whose attitudes ranged from politely snarky to downright surly. The example of the latter is a boy - about two weeks away from needing to shave daily - wearing a Superman t-shirt and jeans. Megan the Gorilla asks, “And what are you dressed up as?” to which he responds, “I don’t know.” I would have almost preferred a s
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All Hallows Eve Eve
2007-10-30 12:45:18
Having been born in November of 1978, I had to wait a long time for several of my first holiday experiences. Independence Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving – I didn’t get to them until 1979, which is a real shame. Hazel’s lucky in that she was born before the boatload of important annual festivities. All she really missed out on were Groundhog’s Day, Cinco de Mayo, and Valentine’s Day; all acceptable losses though missing Henry Rollins’s Birthday was a bit of a kicker.
So, in preparation for her first Halloween, we had a pumpkin carving party over the weekend. Hazel was more of an observer than actual participant, as giving a five-and-a-half-month-old a large knife would probably wind up badly for all concerned. Megan went for a nature scene on her pumpkin and cut out some gently falling leaves. To juxtapose Megan’s tranquil scene, I freehanded an evil, uni-browed reptilian demon pun’kin – complete with forked tongue, protruding lower fangs, and a general bad attitud
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Base-a-Ball
2007-10-29 08:46:51
And with the mighty whiff of Seth Smith, the Red Sox have won their second World Series ring in less than half a decade. Boston fans (including in their ranks an overwhelming percentage of Mainers) can now breathe a sign of relief, a yip of hooray, and a snore of sleep – staying up well past midnight has definitely taken its toll on us Eastern Standard Timers.
Does this victory mean that the Red Sox are the new Yankees? I certainly hope not – although with talk of A-Rod dyeing his stockings red, could a ban on facial hair and Coco Crisp’s ‘fro be far off? Their performance in the Series gives me hope though, some of Lugo’s fielding almost derailed Boston and the bullpen definitely needs a couple of months off to rest. Still, like a pissing contest gone horribly awry, any mistake the Sox made was trumped by the Rockies. You could just about hear the collective hearts of Colorado’s longtime and brand new fans shatter when Holliday misplayed that mid-game shot to left fie
The Tousled Post
2007-10-26 07:59:27
A fear that all dads must share is knowing that, before they know it, their kid will bring home that first boyfriend or girlfriend. Growing up is an odd time that dirves us to make similarly odd choices – in the bands we like, the clothes we wear, the things we will or will not eat, and the people we choose to enter with into social relationships. I still get a chill running down my spine when my mind wanders to Kris Kross, Zubaz pants, tubes of cookie dough, or any of the girls I dated in high school. And I know that eventually, Hazel will start hanging out with some “friend” in as little as a dozen years; a person that I am going to have to be nice to while knowing full well what teenagers do with each other. Yuck.
Hopefully, regardless of Hazel’s future sexual orientation, she never brings home anyone like Eric Byrnes. Last night, the Arizona D’backs left fielder provided what can be loosely categorized as commentary before Game 2 of the World Series. To be fair, he may ha
Sox It to ‘Em
2007-10-22 11:53:50
Thanks to Hazel’s rabid support, Boston is on their way to their second World Series in this century. While their “meh” attitude mid-ALCS left me cold, last night saw the heart come back into the Red Sox ball club. Dustin Pedroia especially stood out - his 3 RBI double came immediately after I dismissingly said, “Pedroia never does anything; I’m going to bed.” Not only was I proven wrong, but I also wound up staying awake for the whole game. Similarly, when they put Coco “My Nickname is Better Than Yours” Crisp in right field, I spoke nothing but doom and gloom. Not only did he produce two of the three final outs of the game, but the last was an over-the-shoulder, smash-into-the-wall catch. My apathy was put at bay.
Not to say that I am a Boston Booster through and through. Like I have said in the past, I’m not a sports fan. I watch the Championship and World Series each year not out of a love for a team or the game of baseball. Watching all those people experience hi
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An Inconvenient Tooth
2007-10-19 09:13:39
I’m sad to report that Hazel still has nary a tooth to chomp with. I’m also sad about that last sentence’s poor grammatical structure, yet I digress. We’re over five months into her life and she still is just a Gummy Gus. I’m sure she’s right on the dental developmental track, but she goes through periodic teething flare-ups that really crankify her craw. Despite her gnawing on anything within her reach with all the wild abandon of a hamster with a cardboard tube, not a single white molar, incisor, or the like interrupts her gaping smile of throaty black. She’s very frustrated by this delay. When her first tooth does finally break through, her relief will surely be palatable palpable.
Thinking back, I obviously cannot remember my baby teeth coming in, but I do vividly recall their exit. It must have been around second grade or so when my milk teeth popped out. I can almost hear the cha-ching each made once they were released; my tooth fairy was very giving without spoilin
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Take a Lap
2007-10-17 07:48:03
Megan would make an excellent MLB coach. While watching the NLCS with me this past week, whenever a hit is not immediately caught or secured for a tag out by the professional baseballers, Megan would comment, “Those guys should try harder; it’s their job.” Likewise, if an at-bat did not result in a homerun (or at the very least a double), Megan would again chastise the player, stating that, instead of getting out, he should hit better and not do so since he’s paid to win at baseball. In short, I feel that Megan could quickly whip any team, even the Shelbyville Shelbyvillians, into World Series winners through concise tips like these.
During last night’s game, Megan quickly lost interest due to the 0-0 score. But, when she came back out and saw the Indians were winning 7-0 about halfway through the game, she rolled up her sleeves to craft the perfect game plan for Boston’s comeback. You could almost see the beaming light bulb ignite above her head as she said, “What t
Wine, Wine, Wine
2007-10-15 03:30:08
After getting waterlogged last week, a sunny Saturday over the weekend begged for outdoor adventure. Since Hazel was on the cusp of breaking the five-month mark, we thought she was old enough for her first winery visit. And, despite her not having any wine to speak of, she still managed to vomit on their very nice balcony overlooking the vineyard.
Having worked at a winery during and after college and being a borderline teetotaler, most visits to such an establishment bore me a bit. But, this being Maine, the vino purveyors really put out a fun time complete with hay rides, barbeque, hot apple cider, and live music – all of it outdoors and absolutely free. It was really an excellent way to spend a fall day, stomping around in the mud with wonderful autumnal smells in the air and everyone being generally jubilant. It is a strange thing bringing your baby out in public. I never know what to say when strangers, after staring at you for a while, come up to you and say, “What a beautifu
Lumberjackery
2007-10-11 07:48:46
So here we are, over a third of the way through National Facial Hair Month. Not only is NFHM a celebration of slovenly follicular upkeep, but it’s also a testament to all things manly. Being that this is my first NFHM as a dad, I feel especially tapped into that testosterone spirit which grants me profuse body hair and enough daily flatulence to keep a dirigible afloat across several time zones. Upon moving to Maine, I was struck at how damned macho the local guys are here1 (or at least in my blue collar town). Pickup trucks abound, filled to the rusted brim with swarthy men off to build houses, do landscaping, or brave the Gulf of Maine in search of briny lobsters. Not wanting Hazel to realize that her dad is a dandy puff, I know I needed to step up my machismo game.
To keep up appearances, over the Columbus Day holiday, my father-in-law and I cut down some troublesome trees in my yard. You see, fathers care about their yards and manly fathers do so in gas-powered operandi. The main
Gone Daddy Gone
2007-11-09 09:40:09
Carving one more notch into my Stereotypical Dad belt, I have been away all week on a business trip. These business trips may become more of a regular thing as I pick up new responsibilities at work, which is a real mixed bag. One the one hand, earning more for performing more interesting work is a great opportunity. On the other hand, I don’t want to miss out on too much Hazel time. Luckily, it appears that she still remembers me, so I think we can make this work.
My final destination was Austin, TX, but flying out of the Portland Jetport necessitates connections if you want to travel more than 33% across the country. So to get to Texas, I needed to change flights in Atlanta. My seatmate was on his way down to Georgia for the National Convenience Store Convention. Yes, they have a convention for everything. It’s reminiscent of Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes fame) and his favorite niche publication, Chewing, the magazine for gum enthusiasts. If you have an interest or profes
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It’s All Downhill From Here
2007-11-15 08:38:22
Today Hazel turns six-months-old. It’s hard to believe that just a few months ago, she was nothing more than a grainy ultrasound blip that occasionally kicked the inside of Megan’s belly. To say that our lives have been different this past half year would be a bit of an understatement.
But at the same time, things have been fairly consistent for us. Megan can still crack me up like nobody else. I still sing every day, except now I have a fairly captive audience. Oddly, I watch less cartoons than I did before becoming a dad, but that’s mostly a time management issue. When I look back at the years and years I’ve been an adult, it boggles me how much time I wasted. This is not to say that I’m mister efficiency now, but I do have a higher sense of urgency when free time crops up. To think of all the times Non-dad John could have been doing laundry – what the hell did I do all day before Hazel showed up?
The past few weeks especially have witnessed a transformation in Ha
Know Where I Can Score a Blue Blanket?
2007-11-13 09:17:32
Yesterday, I had the day off from work. I haven’t had Veterans Day off since high school, and even that is a historical assumption on my part. I spent the morning raking leaves (I’m behind – again!) and then came in to watch Hazel while Megan showered. Hazel had just finished her bottle and was sleeping on my chest when my cell phone rang. Of course, I didn’t lunge up to answer it, spilling my daughter to the floor. That’s what voicemail is for.
I consider myself an optimist, but every time I get a phone call at an odd time – during the workday, very early in the morning, etc. – I think the worst. Having a slew of older relatives and a father who not only travels hundreds of miles each week by car but also has a heart condition, whenever I hear that telephonic tone outside the ordinary Sunday Mom Call or Midday Wife Check-in, I can’t help but cringe a bit at the expected bad news.
But yesterday’s call was of the best variety. It was my sister, fresh from her 20-week u
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, Blanket
Walk It Off
2007-11-19 08:10:09
Last Friday, Hazel had her six month check-up. And while she passed the battery of tests (such as getting weighed and peeing on the examination table) with relative ease, she did have to endure a few vaccination shots. Heroically, she barely made a peep or a grimace during the injections, but for the entire weekend following, she was affected in unpleasant ways. Said effects varied from being just a little out of it to screaming in pain and confusion. The latter built to a dramatic crescendo last night.
Hazel’s bed time is between 7:30 and 8 at night depending on her (and our) energy level. Sunday evening went as usual: I bathed Hazel while Megan prepared to give her a final feeding before slumber. Things went well and Megan and I were relaxing on the couch by 8:15. Around 10, the wails began. Now this could have been the final effects of the vaccinations, but the evidence isn’t definitive. Whether we should blame modern medicine, the Tex-Mex dinner we ate, or my guffawing at Famil
Self-Promotion
2007-11-16 08:02:45
In case you were wondering, last week I sold my Taurus and bought another Taurus. This isn’t brand loyalty; it’s just another example of my innate spendthrift. So this morning I dropped off my ride to get an inspection sticker. The garage I use is run by the most honest man in the world, whose name also happens to be John and whose garage is on John Street (how can you ignore the signs?!), so I don’t mind walking the mile or so to my office – even in this morning’s cold New England rain.
As I ambled past a gas station on my way in, I saw a Saab owner gassing up his shiny foreign auto. Glancing at his license plate, which is the vanity variety, I chuckled. Surely promoting his own or his business’s initials, his personalized plate read: PBFT. Much like how “achoo” represents the sound of a sneeze and “ack-ack” stands in for the sound of a machine gun repeat, “pbft” is most assuredly how one represents a fart in print. If this isn’t a comic strip staple, it darn
Holidays Embiggen the Soul
2007-11-26 08:00:32
When I look back at old pictures of myself, I don’t see much change. 18-year-old John is often indistinguishable from Current John save a few fashion cues (or miscues as the case may be). But with a baby, every few days, she gains enough experience point to evolve to her next form. So, when you look back at a few months of leveling up, the results can be astounding. Plus, with a surviving bib for a reference point, you do get the feeling that you are succeeding as a parent, at least on the nutritional front.
Hazel is kind of like those “just add water” toy sponges from the ‘80s. Sure it’s a pink capsule now, but drop it in some H2O and it puffs into a very impressive camel or dinosaur. Of course, leave it in the water too long, and the sponge gets too soppy and starts to smell a bit – yet another similarity with a baby. In fact, Hazel has grown so much that we took advantage of the rolled-back Thanksgiving prices and bought her a new car seat. It’s huge, padded, and rese
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We’re No. Two!
2007-11-21 08:25:16
Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays. I attribute this to my love of mashed potatoes, a few days off from school/work, holiday television specials, and leftovers. Plus, this is a great lead-in to my birthday (November 30th for all you last minute shoppers). Though I don’t really care for football, sitting around on comfy couches with family will most assuredly distract me from any substantial updates until next week. Plus, with freelance writing gigs coming in from Colorado James, I’ll have more than enough going on to keep myself busy.
But before any of the fun can begin, I need to make my grandmother’s recipe for stuffing. I’ve been coming to Megan’s family’s Thanksgiving meals since the turn of the century and I always weep inside because I won’t eat their stuffing. They put raisins in it for some wicked (meaning bad not good in this instance) reason. And as we can all agree, a Thanksgiving without stuffing is like a Christmas sp
Deco Rations
2007-11-29 07:58:33
With Thanksgiving gobbled up by 2007, we find ourselves in the mittened grasp of the holiday season and Hazel’s first Christmas. As parents, this will most likely be the easiest (and least expensive) Christmas for us, as Hazel is too young to know what’s going on and is also the only baby on many people’s gift list. Plus, with no siblings around, we have it pretty sweet this year. Heck, her favorite toy as of late is an empty tissue box. Together, I’m sure we’ll have a very empty milk carton Christmas.
As much as people feel jolly this time of year, there is always that nasty undercurrent of cynicism. I try and just go with the flow in my house; Megan loves Christmas fanatically, so attempts to tune in the all holiday music radio station starting just after Halloween. I do try and hold her off from decorating the house until December 1
st
, but not out of spite. It’s the same rationale I rely upon when delaying our jack-o-lantern pumpkin purchases. I just like to limit the
PBFT!
2007-11-28 07:26:37
This flash in the pan(ts) pretty much sums up Hazel’s relationship to her dear ol’ Dad.
This Otter Be a Great Christmas!
2007-12-04 09:19:46
The first time my parents came up to see Hazel, she was just one-week-old and was stuck in the hospital with a bad case of jaundice. The second time my parents came up to see Hazel, she was seven-weeks-old and back in the hospital for hernia surgery. The third time my parents ventured north to see Hazel, it was this weekend and the state of Maine got socked with a pretty ample snow storm. The white stuff is still falling today and is collected on the ground in one- or three-foot drifts. In short, grandparents should have it easier.
Luckily, with being snowed in all yesterday, Hazel enjoyed tons of Gramma and Papa time. They may have
said
they were coming up for my and Megan’s birthdays, but once my 29 candles were blown out, I may as well have been a houseplant. This of course is fine by me, me being Dad John. It may have taken a little punching down upon my inner Young John to step aside here, but my birthday gift copy of
Emmett Otter
’s Jug-band Christmas
certainly helped s
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Will Blog for Content
2007-12-19 14:47:29
With computer troubles at home and work, my Wit-o-meter has cranked down to [insert something bland and unfunny here]. The very fact that I have to rely on bracketed content in my opening sentences should indicate how strapped I am humorously.
So, if you can spare any comedic change, please drop any surplus in the comments.
Read more: Content
Holly Days
2007-12-17 11:48:51
Last week we braved the wilderness of the Hannaford parking lot to bring home our Christmas tree. We settled on a seven-foot conifer trucked down from Aroostook County, the northern bulk of Maine. The money we paid went to
Kiwanis International
– an admirable organization dedicated to serving and strengthening local communities through goodwill and volunteerism. I initially thought the Kiwanis were dedicated to funding genetic research to finally fuse an iguana and a kiwi, but the Internet has proven me wrong once more.
After a week in our living room, I don’t have to fill the tree stand with water three times a day; we have reached stasis. Despite trimming the tree carefully—adding our bobbins, lights, and Spider-Man collector ornaments delicately—we still vacuumed up enough pine needles to build a quite decent scale model of Oregon. Neither Hazel nor the cats have managed to bring down crushing, festive injury upon themselves. With the gifts now wrapped and
Read more: Holly
Theories, Postulates, and Explanations
2007-12-12 11:52:04
After a cold and snowy start to the week, the view out my office window has blue skies, calm seas, and roofs dripping with melting snow and ice. In short, it’s warm in Maine and I am happy for this. Shortly after Hazel’s 30-hour sickness last week, both Megan and I caught strains of it. Since we’re older and frailer than our daughter, both of us have been sneezing, coughing, and (belly)aching ever since. Megan is about a day ahead of me in symptoms and recovery, so I should be out of the woods soon. Yesterday I was running a fever and was all loopy; I’m no microbiologist, but that high internal body temperature must be how my system destroys the virus or whatever much how napalm fire strikes can destroy people who live in a country we decide to muck up. This gives a whole new dimension to the term “germ warfare”.
While being sick at work is no fun, my sore throat and cough have given me a gruff, gravelly voice. With each phone call that I answer, I know that I am terrifyin
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Inn the Future
2007-12-10 09:20:55
Megan and her mother went down to Portland for a day of chain store shopping on Saturday, so Hazel and I had a whole day to ourselves. In between naps (hers, not mine), we read books, played with plush animals, and even took in “The New Yankee Workshop”
AND
“This Old House”. If there is a better formula for weekend fun, I have yet to pluck it from the ether.
Just after dusk, I packed up the daughter and headed north to my in-laws’ for pizza and to pick up Megan. As Hazel snoozed in her car seat, I was left alone with my thoughts on the 45-minute drive. Most of the trip takes place on Route One. Instead of the Boston-Post Road of my youth with its movie theaters, mall, and Milford Amusement Center (we’ve got the fun!), this stretch on the First Highway of America has woods, trees, forests, and a few stands of pine and spruce. During the brief mile or so through downtown Camden, I was treated to many houses and B&Bs aglow with the holiday spirit. Megan loves Christmas
Read more: Future
The One-Lung’er*
2007-12-21 08:00:44
Before Maine, Megan and I lived in Vermont. For much of my Connecticut family, moving to these northern reaches of New England is tantamount to moving to Siberia or the Himalayas. Some ask us if we had snow in August. Others maintain the belief that I commute to work via dog sled. But with global warming, winters up here are like the CT winters of my youth. In other words, they've gotten kind of soft. Case in point, our first winter in Vermont, we received next to nothing for snow all winter. In fact, we got so little snow I never once had to drag my snow blower out from the shed to clear a path. Often a broom would do the trick on our deck and walkway.
The snow blower was a gift from my great-uncle Lew (not to be confused with the term "great uncle" - he is one of these as well). My Uncle Lew lives next-door to my folks and used to run a hardware store. When the store finally closed, he brought all the stock home with him so if you needed any tool, he was guaranteed to have thr
I Demand a Recount!
2008-03-07 09:31:11
Whether the Weather Be Cold
2008-03-05 09:20:37
Some seasons get along very well. I imagine that summer and autumn are very congenial, the former being a life-of-the-party type while the latter its stalwart companion and designated driver. After several months of long, raucous days and temperate nights, summer is all too happy to be tucked into bed by easy-going autumn, a glass [...]
The Best Part of Waking Up
2008-03-02 20:22:50
If Nutt equals Nut, ‘N equals And, and But equals Butt, then:
a) Valentine’s Day equals Very One-sided.
b) Boston’s Best Marketing Personnel equal Larry Flint and Ron Jeremy.
c) Cup o’ Joe equals Whole New Euphemism.
d) Yours Truly equals Massive Perv.
Leap Day / Creep Day
2008-02-29 09:06:19
Last night, Hazel decided it would be a hoot to cry uncontrollably from 1 a.m. until about 3:30 or so. The most likely culprit is teething, which I see as more of a red herring for parents to rely upon during ambiguous caterwauling spells than a consistent tear bringer. She also might have been really [...]
Read more: Creep
Ode to a Long Winter
2008-02-27 09:52:30
Dense snows big on sop but short on stature
coat the world like a sweatpanted loafer
who is no more than a belly scratcher
sagging jobless on his parents’ sofa.
(That last line rhymes when read by a Mainer.
People here play Three Card Monte with Rs;
removing some to make words sound plainer
and suping up others like pimped out cars.)
Winter [...]
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