learning… all the wrong things

Happy Tuesday morning folks, just one day closer to a change of venue for us as we're headed up north to visit the grandparents (my folks) after work on Wednesday. I'm ready, if I haven't mentioned that already. I love days when I can utilize my time to the fullest. Today, I came home for lunch and pre-edged the lawn for the mowing I knew I’d be doing after work. Not that it saves a whole heck a lot of time, but any little bit helps.
I'm gonna jump around a bunch today. Yeah, try to hold in your shock.
Today, Keaton demonstrated two new skills she's picked up somewhere along the way. Both of them are pretty good, so I figured I'd write about them. First up, unlocking the front door. She's been tall enough now for a while to reach the lock, but, until recently, she's been a fairly cautious baby (I mean, she's still on the cautious side, but she's beginning to take a few more risks). Today, however, as I was out mowing the lawn, I made one pass, turned around, and there she was standing right in my line - smiling and waving silently thanks to the tunes in my noise-blocking earbuds. I looked around for Sharaun but she was nowhere to be found. So, I cut the mower, paused the iPod, and bent down to talk to her. Just then, Sharaun came from the front door shaking her head. "She can unlock it now," she said. Awwww stank. Now she can come and go as she pleases, I suppose. For now, Sharaun actually put an 'X' of masking tape over the lock mechanism, and I assume will investigate a more sound, for-purchase, solution shortly.
Next, and this one is my personal favorite just for the ingenuity and craftiness it shows, her new "Mommy said yes" thing. Just today while I was home for lunch I caught her "swinging" from the gate we have to block off access to the kitchen (hanging like a monkey is a more accurate description). I told her, as I have before, "Keaton, we don't swing on the gate." To which she replied, "Mommy said it's OK to swing, Daddy." Confused, I asked Sharaun, "Did you tell her it's OK to swing on the gate?" "No," she replied, having not heard Keaton, "Why?" "She just said you did," I replied. "Keaton did I tell you it was OK to swing on the gate?," she asked. "No, it's not OK," replied Keaton. Busted; cold-busted. At the time, I wrote it off as a fluke, but then...
When Sharaun had to leave for a meeting and I was wrapping up my yardwork by putting away the edger, she brought Keaton out to the garage so I could watch her. While we were in the garage putting things away, she saw her new bike-trailer and said, "Can I go for a bike-ride Daddy?" "No, not right now baby, it's getting late and Daddy has to take a shower." "Oh," she says, "Mommy says yeah." Turning to look at her, I ask, "Mommy said it was OK for you to go on a bike-ride?" "Yeah, Mommy said it was OK."
This kid, she's already playing us. I love it. She must think she's so slick. But, I'm onto her games. As a kid, I used to pride myself on techniques I used to "work" my folks (even though I'm realizing now they likely saw right through most of them), so she's gonna have to work harder to pull one over on me! Sharaun, on the other hand, may be low-hanging fruit. We'll see...
Well, folks, after much brain-wracking and flip-flopping on position, I think I’ve finally settled on a course of action, or, more accurately in this case, course of inaction, regarding the TV-upgrade situation. I’ve decided to put my purported minimalist ideals where my mouth is, so to speak, and delay indefinitely the purchase of a bigger, flatter, sexier and higher-definition television. Yup. I'm for real.
At the least I’ve decided that I won’t purchase a new TV at all until our old one gives up the ghost, and right now my intended course of action when that happens is to simply reevaluate the cost-efficiency of a newer model. Meaning, if there is no price-based reason not to chose a sweet, awesome, HDTV over another “regular” model – I’ll make the purchase. If we’re still talking thousands of dollars in premiums, I think I’ll continue to pass. (I could be wrong here though, those TVs are pretty flat and rectangular and sweet, after all.)
Yes, people will make fun of my small boxy television, I know this. But, for reasons I’ve laid out here on the blog recently, I honestly think this may be the best solution for our family right now. And, besides, it kinda makes me feel all snarky-good and "above" materialism (says the guy with two cars, five iPods, etc., etc.).
Before I go, wanted to do some link-sharing... check it out:
Similar to the fascination I’ve expressed several times here on this blog with the Edgewood Hospital website, I became enthralled this week when I discovered several websites and forums dedicated to the modern-day activity called “urbex,” or urban-exploration. Urban explorers are a group of folks who share a common love of exploration, armchair archeology, architecture and building design, and, often, photography – not to mention a healthy fear-fetish, it would seem.
Think about it, what guy can say he doesn’t get a little excited being somewhere he’s not supposed to be? I mean, looking at the back of the “Danger - No Admittance” sign from the “wrong end” is one of the central sources of entertainment for teenage males, why should we expect that to change as grow into respectable adults? We shouldn’t, and that’s why this whole “urbex” thing was so immediately attractive to me. I spent about an hour paging through this guy’s page, following his exploits into ghost towns, rundown factories, condemned mental facilities, and the like. I particularly like his trip into a forgotten Detroit police station, complete with mug shots, a stocked evidence room, and riot gear.
G'night people. Hope you're as warm and comfy as I am.
slumbered away the sweet-spot

Happy Monday folks. Gonna be a busy three days, both at work and home, before we fly up to Oregon to hang out with Grammy and Grampa for Mother's Day.
And me? I'm still groggy from a doozy of a Sunday afternoon nap. Went into the city last night with Anthony to see Rogue Wave in concert, didn't get back home until 3am. The late night, combined with the somewhat early rise for church made for serious case of the post-lunch sleepies. So, I deferred the tons of yardwork I had planned and settled down shirtless on the couch for a "short" nap soundtracked by XM's "Deep Cuts" station. Three hours later, I awoke in one of those well-rested states of ultimate satisfaction. Yes, I slumbered away the sweet-spot of the day, but man was it some kinda rewarding in it's own special way. So, setting the tone, I'm still here reveling a little bit in waking rested and happy.
Saturday this weekend I wanted to take Keaton out for a bike ride (or, bike tow, to be more precise). We got on the road around 9:30am, after a breakfast of pancakes and eggs (I rarely ever eat breakfast, but sometimes Saturday affords me the time and/or motivation). I packed her into the carrier with some juice and a baggie of Goldfish, and threw a blanket in the back just in case she got cold when we got going. We were on a short timeline, since we were due at a two-year-old birthday party at a park across town by 11am. I opted for a ride to the park, a quick romp on the playground, and a ride back. It was a good time, and I'm hoping it helped at beginning to acclimate her for longer trips. Even by the end of the short ride to the park, she was asking to get out and walk, so I still have some more breaking-in to do. Was a good time though, peep the pictures:
And I'll leave you at that. Tomorrow I'm going to try to cram in a lawn mowing, prep for big-trash day on Tuesday, and a bunch of lunchtime errands - I'm giving 3:1 odds.
'Night.
fear me, air-breathing planetwalkers
Today I wore a new shirt (well, new for me, I actually got it for Christmas last year from Sharaun's family in Florida). It has "pronounced" collars. So pronounced, in fact, that my shadow in the parking lot while walking to my car for lunch made me laugh.

To me, it looked like the kind of ornate future-space uniform an intergalactic planetary overlord might wear.
Fear me, air-breathing planetwalkers; fear me.
bring on the boo-boos

Wednesday, and the remainder of this week can't go fast enough. I'm just ready to get to the weekend, work's just not doing it for me lately. Luckily, a week from today we fly to Oregon to stay for a while with Grammy and Grampa. While there, I'll go into the local sawmill so I'm not AWOL. Should be a good long-weekend and at least give me something of a "break" from the regular here-and-now grind.
Let's go ahead and do this blog thing then, not much in the way of continuity though, I'm afraid.
While I was out in the yard the other evening putting in some new plants, I stopped by the recently-planted garden to see if anything had began to push through the dirt. Sure enough, a couple of the cucumbers and most all of the beans have already sprouted and are making a charge for their share of sunlight. I was happy to see it, as I’d used year-old seeds I had leftover from last Spring’s sowing and wasn’t sure they’d be good to go, especially since I hadn’t taken any particular care in storing them. Hopefully the quick sprout is a good sign, and the garden will come in full and healthy again this year.
Sharaun called me at work today to tell me a funny story. I guess Keaton took a spill today walking out to the car, and skinned up her knees to the point of bloodying them both a bit. Sharaun wiped them off enough to put her in the carseat and clean her up a little better when they got home, but halfway there more blood had appeared. Keaton looked down at her bloody knees and said, “Hey look I have some jelly on there Mommy!” I don’t think she’s ever really drawn blood before, so why not think it’s jelly? Suppose we should get used to bloody knees and scrapes and scratches, huh? The real fun of childhood begins.
May sound silly, but I say bring on the boo-boos. I'm ready to nurse more skinned knees from climbing trees and removing training wheels and playing soccer and gymnastics - or whatever kinda things girls skin knees doing. I'm ready to swoop in for a reassuring rescue, so let's do it.
Goodnight.